Misleading women were never here.
Their actions not for sure.
They're total cost of being great
a lack of loss concierge.
To fail them with a right or wrong
of others to conceal,
when all that love is passed on by
a hunger for the feel.
That even I can say I'm great
for others to be still
And only I can say to wait
for others to be real.
Categories:
concierge, analogy,
Form: Quatrain
Upon entering the hotel she felt a shiver go down her spine
the carpet seemed stained by something that looked like wine
He cleared his throat then with two spindly fingers passed her
an old rusted key that was attached to a long piece of twine ...
Sorry Ms Demise but Room 666 is all I have left for the night
she put the key in but noticed something didn't feel just right
there were many secrets in this old hotel and ghosts that burr
underneath the door a slimy ooze poured, she opened the light
Inside, the room was dimly lit with a red neon luminous bulb
she poured herself a stiff drink, but when she took a gulp
her vision turned blurry and her tongue swelled thick as fur
with each swish-goop she felt needle pricks inside her sculp
The next morning Ms. D. never left the hotel and never paid
a new guest arrived saw the blots but figured it was the maid
who dropped her dirty mop on the spot, Rm 666 your key Sir,
he too never left, a decrepit Concierge with eyes of cold Jade
never got tired of booking Rm 666. As he handed them the key
he told his victims, "tomorrow morning, your breakfast is free"
Categories:
concierge, scary,
Form: Rhyme
The sun split the day, that had started grey,
and turned it burnished blue.
The city haze soon banished the greys
and took on a pastel hue.
Tower blocks soared and traffic roared
and heat haze bent perspective,
Street cafés plied and vied for the trade of
the Ray-Banned, coffee collective.
Executive guys loosened their ties
and went jacket-less in the heat,
the smiles had returned as the hot sun burned
and melted the tar on the street.
A convivial day in every way for shoppers
and tourists alike,
the hotel concierge, the couple sat on the verge
and the old guy riding the bike.
The blast from the bomb shattered the calm
and darkened the rays of the sun,
in the afterglow, only broken shadow
and people starting to run.
Shattered windows, shattered lives,
shattered by a dream,
all that remains is bodies in pain
and a single, primal scream.
Categories:
concierge, imagery, violence, war,
Form: Rhyme
the edge of the universe, the milky way, the sun, the planet, the continent, the country, the city, the apartment building, the old concierge friendly face, the creaky elevator, nobody's home, the elevator, the friendly face, the building, the city, the country, the continent and so on.
going far away,
make sure you did not forget
documents and keys
Categories:
concierge, august,
Form: Haibun
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : XXXVII - XXXVIII
XXXVII
If ever I had a country
And if ever by some magic I were the Minister of Housing Development
I'd make it my life-long mission by swearing upon it as a Holy Sacrement
To rush to the rescue of every poor defenceless and distraught old tenant
At the mercy of villainous old women pests who run or administer housing tenements
With beaks claws sharp canines of vultures hyenas who suck vampirically emoluments
That is, if ever I were by some magic the Minister of Housing Development
And even if I never ever had in Gaie Paree no country
XXXVIII
If ever I had a country
And if ever by some magic I were the Housing Development Secretary
I'd ordain ripped from every thesaurus encyclopaedia and dictionary
Words which denote or connote that special breed of vilely hissing spying bodies
Concierge Housekeeper Portero Janitor and all such idiotic parasitic discrepancies
And free the sleepless care-worn tenement city populations from these harpies
That is, if ever by some magic I were the Housing Development Secretary
And even if in Gaie Paree I never ever had no country
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 26, 2018
Categories:
concierge, anti bullying, corruption, house,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
Lots of light, a comfy bed,
Quiet when you're sleeping;
Curtains blocking out the world
When morning rays come creeping.
Reading lamps, two cozy chairs,
Some drawers to do unpacking;
A fridge, tv and coffeemaker
(Which some rooms are lacking).
A nice hot shower where the water's
Strong yet gently flowing;
A concierge to help you
Figure out just where you're going.
A great location so that you
Can walk to local places;
A staff whose smiles are welcoming
As breezes' warm embraces.
A hotel room like this will make
Your visit a delight
And if you guess I'm staying at one,*
You'd, of course, be right!
*Hotel Am Steinplatz, Berlin
Categories:
concierge, travel,
Form: Rhyme
my mind is else where
distracted
a misplaced focus.
this happens when you're plate is full.
when you care for someone who is ill
life stop's.
those individual things like future plans
goals
dreams
happiness
wishes
all change.
it's all about the person you are caring for.
also true is that caregiving comes with no handbook.
spendind time in the ER
intensive care
Dialysis
you name it I have been there,I could be my local Hospital's concierge I know it so well.
over time you become resilient and resourceful
and if it's not in you're nature to be extroverted too bad you will be,you have no choice,you learn to hustle to get support
the advocates
Doctors
Nurses
Medicad
medicare
healthcare
know the who's and the why's
it's not easy
would not wish it on my worst enemy.
I'm humbled
I have humility,but I also carry anger,it's hard not to take this personnel
but it's not about me
it is about the one you love.
Categories:
concierge, caregiving,
Form: Free verse
Evil’s Bookends
Sept 8, 2001, 7:30PM
The limo arrives
the concierge opens the doors
to a clear cool night in the city,
a first Broadway Play.
A cell phone call, a Playbill
tucked between a broken pencil
and a pair of bifocals.
Sept 12, 2001, 10:35AM
Sirens blare
amid grey-white ash.
A cell phone rings,
torn Playbill flaps.
Broken pencil,
sightless glasses,
crushed in the grip
of mindless madness.
9/30/2014
Submitted for Craig Cornish
Chopped – Poetry Contest
Categories:
concierge, peace, war,
Form: Free verse
“Hell is Empty”
As I peruse the nature of the news
the solutions that we will, and will not, choose,
I know that “hell is empty and the devils are all here”
clothed in regal garments sparkling with fear.
So does the touch of Satan reach us all
as we worship at his altar in the mall,
cajoling us with dreams he can’t fulfill
then sticking us with Karma’s unpaid bill.
Thus does Satan take lone pictures of his “self”
disguised in fin’ry pilfered from the shelf,
as we struggle to resist Satanic urge
we service all his needs as concierge.
Perhaps this Satan’s turned to doing good
and in the past was just misunderstood.
John G. Lawless
5/4/2014
//for Frank H.-- Shakespeare Contest//
“”hell is empty and the devils are all here”
Categories:
concierge, religion, society,
Form: Sonnet
I'll remember the museums
And the fine historic homes.
There's been mention of both music
And parade within my poems.
But it really is the people
That will stick inside my brain,
For connections, even brief ones,
Are the gems that I'll retain:
Chuck the artist, born in Kansas,
And his very lovely wife.
If we settled in Savannah,
They'd be friends of ours for life.
Southern Cecil, full of knowledge
Of his charming, tree-lined town,
Gave a walking tour quite wonderful,
While putting "Yankees" down.
Two young salesclerks selling honey
And a waitress from the west;
A museum guide in Clarksdale,
Whose collection so impressed.
John and Eileen from Virginia,
On the rooftop bar called Rocks
And the docent who directed us
To bagels and to lox!
Tim the piano man and Judy,
She a member of my tribe;
John the concierge, exuding
Such a quirky Southern vibe.
I could keep this up forever
But I'll tie it up, quite neat -
Yes, the greatest part of travel
Is the people that you meet.
Categories:
concierge, people,
Form: Rhyme
Where is that daunting monster
Boogie man in life’s shadow
Master mentor and concierge
Whose touch I’ve come to know
To you I’ll waste no breath
Beauty is not long and septic
My daunting docent of death
Midwife to misery, work quick
What small dignities remain
Strung of vomiting seconds
Cultures a pearl of great pain
To ferry a man of no direction
Categories:
concierge, death,
Form: Light Verse