Submissions by David_gessner
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
"Poet" hmm naw, sounds like somethin a pretentious hipster kid would say while drinking pabst blue ribbon and smoking a cigarette he bummed off somebody else.
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
10th May 2014 10:28am
10th May 2014 10:28am
change
Its three am. I've been clean for over three months. Im still at the same cheap motel. I got a couple roomates and a job at Dairy Queen. I moved into one of the kitchenettes back in January after I reconnected with an old girlfriend. She moved down here with me for a month...then shit changed. We broke up and she left. Four days ago she texted me and apologized for the way she treated me after she got here. Then she dropped the last thing I expected to here on me. She told me she's still mine...and that I'm going to be a father. I was over at a friends house drinking when she told me. I was...
744 reads
5 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
18th Dec 2013 6:06am
18th Dec 2013 6:06am
These Hopeless Feelings
I sit here
in my motel room
smoking cigarettes
just to pass the time
staring blankly
at pale blue walls
waiting for a phonecall
i know isn't coming
hopelessness and depression
are like crushing weights on my chest
there's a spoon
and three syringes
in my back pack
no dope to fill either them
or myself, no temporary escape
for me tonite
no way to quiet these razorblade
and kerosene blues
wailing from inside my soul
i dream of suicide
of the last poem i write
the...
in my motel room
smoking cigarettes
just to pass the time
staring blankly
at pale blue walls
waiting for a phonecall
i know isn't coming
hopelessness and depression
are like crushing weights on my chest
there's a spoon
and three syringes
in my back pack
no dope to fill either them
or myself, no temporary escape
for me tonite
no way to quiet these razorblade
and kerosene blues
wailing from inside my soul
i dream of suicide
of the last poem i write
the...
901 reads
7 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
16th Dec 2013 9:19pm
16th Dec 2013 9:19pm
A Junkies Truth
The lowest point in a junkies life
is wpointedhen he realizes
there's no point even getting high
because even dope wont let him out run his demons today.
Welcome to your own personal hell mother fucker.
High, drunk, or sober,
It doent change a thing,
Doesnt make a damn bit of difference,
no matter what you do
you find yourself
looking in the mirror
and its still you're reflection staring back at you,
still you're fucking skin you're wearing
Yea mother fucker, and its always gonna be ...
is wpointedhen he realizes
there's no point even getting high
because even dope wont let him out run his demons today.
Welcome to your own personal hell mother fucker.
High, drunk, or sober,
It doent change a thing,
Doesnt make a damn bit of difference,
no matter what you do
you find yourself
looking in the mirror
and its still you're reflection staring back at you,
still you're fucking skin you're wearing
Yea mother fucker, and its always gonna be ...
1050 reads
7 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
13th Dec 2013 11:19pm
13th Dec 2013 11:19pm
New Opportunity
Its been almost a month since my girlfriend kicked me out of our little apartment at the Paradise Valley Low Income Housing Authority and I found myself at a cheap roadside motel near the CO border.
An investor had just decided to buy this place and turn it over to two buisness partners, tessie, and troy when i showed up. troy offered me a free room in exchange for some labor, and now a few weeks later tessie asked me if I would stay on, help them with the tremendous task of repairing and maintaing the motel and the old restraunt nextdoor they bought as well. She told me that I don't need...
An investor had just decided to buy this place and turn it over to two buisness partners, tessie, and troy when i showed up. troy offered me a free room in exchange for some labor, and now a few weeks later tessie asked me if I would stay on, help them with the tremendous task of repairing and maintaing the motel and the old restraunt nextdoor they bought as well. She told me that I don't need...
717 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
27th Nov 2013 6:15pm
27th Nov 2013 6:15pm
the email from a chick who likes the way i bleed
Last night i got an email from a chick i know, another writer. She told me that. she thinks I'm "so fuckin sexy babe" and that "its the way you write, its so fucking raw and brutal, it makes me wanna pounce" Hearing my cathartic ramblings and rants that i long ago stopped pretending were art or poetry cause arousal in another human being shows me just how voyeristic a world we live in. our favorite form of entertainment is the people who live across the street, our coworkers , friends, anyone as long as its real and unscripted. we don't want acting we want suffering. shr...
885 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
24th Nov 2013 10:01am
24th Nov 2013 10:01am
A poem that wont save any of us
Years now since I dug up Juliets bones
and brought them to the altar
of the patron saint of broken hearted lovers
Years I've spent singing the razor blade
and kerosene blues
And still my wounds bleed
the cut refuses to heal
has become infected
I once drank Morrisons blood
from a cup made of part
of Cobains shotgun scattered skull
And still I don't know who God is
only who he isn't
Even after all these fucking years
I've found no truth
no great poem that will save
a single
fucking
person
and brought them to the altar
of the patron saint of broken hearted lovers
Years I've spent singing the razor blade
and kerosene blues
And still my wounds bleed
the cut refuses to heal
has become infected
I once drank Morrisons blood
from a cup made of part
of Cobains shotgun scattered skull
And still I don't know who God is
only who he isn't
Even after all these fucking years
I've found no truth
no great poem that will save
a single
fucking
person
820 reads
6 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
23rd Nov 2013 2:14pm
23rd Nov 2013 2:14pm
Another lonely night
Almost 7am as I lie awake in bed here in my motel room as I have all night, my mood switching from melancholy to angry to indifferent over and over all. night long as I think about her. I still can't figure out what the hell happenrd, we were both so happy and then just like that she flipped out and started goin off on me. Then she told
me to get out. So I@ did. And now she acts like i fucked her over. and i don't even know what the fuck happened in the first place. all i know is that last weekend i had a beautiful girl an apartment a fridge full of food and now I've got a room in a...
me to get out. So I@ did. And now she acts like i fucked her over. and i don't even know what the fuck happened in the first place. all i know is that last weekend i had a beautiful girl an apartment a fridge full of food and now I've got a room in a...
646 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
23rd Nov 2013 2:19am
23rd Nov 2013 2:19am
The Motel 7 blues
I sit in this cheap motel smokin cigarettes, staring at the walls with my head reeling from the sudden shock of. my girl goin crazy and flippin out over nothin but her own paranoid delusions and throwin me out of the home we so happily shared only the day prior. Its been five days since i arrived at the motel 7 in goodland. five fucking days wondering what happened and finally i decided that i don't even care why. After all this is the norm in my fucked off "life"
662 reads
4 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2013 3:39pm
22nd Nov 2013 3:39pm
poem for a prostitute from Ohio
cigarette scented kisses
beneath the amphetamine sky
i breathe in toxic clouds
of tainted air
we're caught
tangled in this web of self destruction
rotting in the ruins
of what i once called love
just a couple fucking junkies
beneath the amphetamine sky
i breathe in toxic clouds
of tainted air
we're caught
tangled in this web of self destruction
rotting in the ruins
of what i once called love
just a couple fucking junkies
780 reads
5 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
11th Nov 2013 9:03am
11th Nov 2013 9:03am
Late Night Musings
Its almost three o clock in the morning. I'm on my second day without sleep, sitting on the edge of my bed smoking cheap menthol cigarettes, wondering, Where in the fuck did I put that goddam joint?
My girlfriend is outside, smoking a cigarette on the front porch. We're both coming down, but it's rougher on her. She gets inside her head and makes herself depressed, thinking of all the things she wishes she'd done differently. I try to calm her but, she's confrontational when she's coming down, so I back off and let her have her space.
My ma's in the living room asleep on the...
My girlfriend is outside, smoking a cigarette on the front porch. We're both coming down, but it's rougher on her. She gets inside her head and makes herself depressed, thinking of all the things she wishes she'd done differently. I try to calm her but, she's confrontational when she's coming down, so I back off and let her have her space.
My ma's in the living room asleep on the...
693 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
8th Oct 2013 8:28pm
8th Oct 2013 8:28pm
Rebuilding The Life I Lost
After nearly a year of being a strung out homeless junkie, in and out of jail, I think things may mostly be starting to fall back into place for me. I may have a full time job, detailing cars at a used car lot by Friday and my buddy let me move into his apartment and crash on his floor till I get back on my feet. Plus the complex manager said she will most likely hire my girlfriend to clean the complex and get us moved into our own apartment.
Its been a long, lonely, and desperate journey back from the needles point, one I wasn't sure I'd survive. I've been kidnapped at gun point by...
Its been a long, lonely, and desperate journey back from the needles point, one I wasn't sure I'd survive. I've been kidnapped at gun point by...
722 reads
5 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
5th Aug 2013 6:44pm
5th Aug 2013 6:44pm
Born For Leavin
Dingy, possibly once white carpet,covered with cigarette burns and stains, half full Mcdonalds and Pizza Hut cups litter the table tops and the kitchen counter make up the decor of this apartment I find myself sitting in.
A guy I know, not a friend per say, named Layne lies on the dirty carpet playing on his phone, Courtney, his girlfriend is on the couch playing music on her Ipod, listening to a song until she becomes bored with it and finds another.
We're all jonesing for more dope. Layne got a thousand dollar check today, but my connect hasn't called me back yet. He told...
A guy I know, not a friend per say, named Layne lies on the dirty carpet playing on his phone, Courtney, his girlfriend is on the couch playing music on her Ipod, listening to a song until she becomes bored with it and finds another.
We're all jonesing for more dope. Layne got a thousand dollar check today, but my connect hasn't called me back yet. He told...
684 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by David_gessner
