Buried History

by ~ArtisanGareth, Oct 25, 2012, 9:16:48 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Urban & Spoken Word

My phone lights up with a call at 2 AM.

Hello?

A drunken voice drifts though the phone,

and the nights tone is set.

the social formalities ensue in an awkward embrace of familiarity,

muddled over the unusual circumstances.

A steady stream of slurred words filter through the speaker,

a family's history divulged in one long string of

tainted childhoods, broken people, and perverted ideals.

I put the phone on speaker and lay down,

the voice steadily filling my head like an ocean.

I try to absorb the swell of emotions,

but in crashing waves,

it breaks through my longest standing levees.

I cry.

Wracking tides that I suppress with all my worth.

I wonder if they can hear me.

Dawn grips at my window sill,

and I wonder how long its been listening.

"I need to sleep... I have work in a few hours."

"... love you."

"I love you too."

*Click*

Newest Deviations

Young and oldIts strange to think,

that they were young once.
At some point in the past,
they sat in similar places,
one way or another.

Yet,
while they walked similar paths,
they walked it in completely different shoes.
They felt all the
dirt,
rocks,
bumps,
cuts and bruises,
pleasures and pains,

different than we.

But they experienced it all none the less.

we treat them like they know nothing,
and they treat us like we haven't a clue.

Its one of the greatest crimes of humanity,
this perpetual misunderstanding,
and arrogance,
between the young and aged.Young and old by ~ArtisanGareth

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I awoke upon a beach, BlindingI awoke upon a beach,
Blinding white sand
everywhere.

I look to my right
and her hand is clasped in mine.

We lay there arms outstretched, hand in hand, looking at each other.

The tide laps at our feet, rising.
The sun is sinking over head.

Laying in the warm sand
I watch the sun set over the water.

I barely notice as a wave washes over us, enjoying the sensation.

I look over at her and try to squeeze her hand,

But,
It's not her anymore,
and I squeeze only sand.

She dissolves before my eyes as the water rolls over her,
imploding,
collapsing
into the beach below her.

And then,

I was Alone.I awoke upon a beach, Blinding by ~ArtisanGareth

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3 AM Blue EyesIts early, early morning, and I cant think of anything but her.

All I see is her Blue Eyes. The blonde eyelashes above them. How they turn slightly gold near the iris.

I’ve spent a lot of time looking into those eyes.

Then again, not nearly enough.

And it's strange, really, how in some ways, while not seeing something for a while lets the memory fade, but some details sharpen. Perhaps its just my imagination, and me clinging to something.

But I swear I can see her eyes as clearly as if we were staring at each other.

What could I say about Blue Eyes, that someone hasn’t already said eons before me? I could go on and on abou3 AM Blue Eyes by ~ArtisanGareth

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Pit and the PendulumI feel like a man trapped,

as if I was in The Pit and the Pendulum.

The future uncertain,

Time,

Is my torturer.

As the days go by,

the pendulum slides ever nearer,

the Walls,

ever closing in.

I grope in the darkness for something to hold on to,

anything to provide certainty,

to provide some sense of security.

But the Walls press in,

the ground gives no quarter,

the Pit, leering, ever present.

I scrabble in silence fervently,

against these cold Walls,

like a rat in the last moments of life.

where is my savior to catch me from this blackness,

this ever consuming darkness?

Where are the arms to catch me,

as I stand,

on thPit and the Pendulum by ~ArtisanGareth

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Browse Gallery

Back on the wagon

by ~ArtisanGareth, Apr 7, 2013, 5:08:09 AM
Journals / Personal

Mood: Depressed
Listening to: Iron and Wine
Reading: Forever Peace, by Joe Haldeman
Watching: Californication
Playing: Starcraft 2
Eating: Not much, nowadays

Welp, I guess all it takes is a lot of stress to get me writing again lol. Guess im back on the wagon again.

Not necessarily a good thing, but Im writing, so I enjoy that. Just a lot of stuff happening, coming to a culmination I suppose, very soon, relatively.

Lot of new things happening, new job. So that will take up a lot of my time and give me other things to think about. Really looking forward to that.

Stressed over my relationship.

Seeing a therapist once a week. I wouldnt say I "enjoy" our talks, but I look forward to them. I get a lot of things off my chest, and we're digging some things up from the past that I kind of forgot about, that are affecting me. So its been interesting. After therapy, I get to have the rest of the day in downtown Portland, so its a good experience.

So yeah. Might be back on for a while. We'll see how things go.

audios, amigos.

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~ArtisanGareth

Garret Lukens
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied

United States

Hello folks.

Welcome to my page. I like to write to sooth my own thoughts, I work on computers for accomplishment, and i like to use my hands a lot. whether it be bucking hay, drawing,or punctuating my thoughts, I use my hands a lot.

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