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.
Raining At 3 am
Its 3:19am, I'm drunk and out of cigarettes.
I was off work and my dad western unioned me a $20, so I bought a couple packs of cigs and a bottle of bourbon.
Its been a weird day, ducky my 16 year old adopted baby brother pulled on my sideburns with a pair of pliers so I split his head open. Our other home stole from my tattoo artist so i busted his nose.
On my way home from kicking it with this sexy punker chick I work with some dipshit with a baseball bat mistook me for someone else over by my Buddy's crib. I saw the house they came out of and I intend to pay them a...
I was off work and my dad western unioned me a $20, so I bought a couple packs of cigs and a bottle of bourbon.
Its been a weird day, ducky my 16 year old adopted baby brother pulled on my sideburns with a pair of pliers so I split his head open. Our other home stole from my tattoo artist so i busted his nose.
On my way home from kicking it with this sexy punker chick I work with some dipshit with a baseball bat mistook me for someone else over by my Buddy's crib. I saw the house they came out of and I intend to pay them a...
52 reads
1 Comment
let go
Wake up
Light a cigarette
Inhale deeply
Splash cold water
on your face
And look appraisingly
At your reflection
Hungover
Unshaven
You look like shit
Almost two months since she left
Almost a month since she lost your child
She still says she loves you
Misses you
She texts you everyday
But says
She doesn't have "time"
To come for a visit
And every day you wonder
Why you can't just
Let
Go
Light a cigarette
Inhale deeply
Splash cold water
on your face
And look appraisingly
At your reflection
Hungover
Unshaven
You look like shit
Almost two months since she left
Almost a month since she lost your child
She still says she loves you
Misses you
She texts you everyday
But says
She doesn't have "time"
To come for a visit
And every day you wonder
Why you can't just
Let
Go
79 reads
3 Comments
A Work in Progress
When I came to goodland Kansas six months ago, after my now ex girlfriend Megan kicked me out of the one bedroom apartment we lived in in Natoma, I was a strung out, junky speed freak, depressed, lost, and lonely.
My mom, also an addict, had a room here at the motel 7, so I came here, figuring I'd crash in her room for a week or so, fill out some job applications, and if I didn't have any luck I figured either I'd check myself into rehab, or spend the winter in jail.
Then Tess and Troy, the motel manager and the maintenance man offered me a room and board job helping Troy with...
My mom, also an addict, had a room here at the motel 7, so I came here, figuring I'd crash in her room for a week or so, fill out some job applications, and if I didn't have any luck I figured either I'd check myself into rehab, or spend the winter in jail.
Then Tess and Troy, the motel manager and the maintenance man offered me a room and board job helping Troy with...
42 reads
0 Comments
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...
61 reads
5 Comments
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...
186 reads
7 Comments
A Junkies Truth
The lowest moment in a junkies life
is the moment
he realizes that
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,
sober,
drunk,
it don't 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
Eat that fucking...
is the moment
he realizes that
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,
sober,
drunk,
it don't 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
Eat that fucking...
229 reads
7 Comments
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...
64 reads
4 Comments
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...
91 reads
2 Comments
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
99 reads
6 Comments
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...
57 reads
4 Comments
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"
69 reads
4 Comments
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
177 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by David_gessner