the Biltmore Hotel
appears through my car window
by my new office
two workplaces as bookends
to forty years and one life
Heartbreak Hotel
by JG
Those kind, heartfelt words he used...
His soft touch flowing through your hair.
That perfect kiss to seal a magical night,
His charming humor calming your mind.
An unforgettable smile that soothed your soul,
And the sound of that cherished L word beneath the stars.
But days pass
Without his sweet voice in your ear.
Your skin forgets his warming touch.
Her heart stops—eyes blinded.
Across the room,
His hands now move through another’s hair.
The same sweet lines
Persuading her home with him.
A single tear falls down her cheek.
Another room in the Heartbreak Hotel.
Do you remember when phones had a cord to the wall outlet?
Our son was about five years old.
We were in a hotel room and he wanted to call daddy.
He ran over to the phone and picked it up.
As he looked at me with a very puzzled look, he said it has no dial tone.
Yes, no dial tone because we are in a hotel room.
Beneath the leaves
One may find
Scribbles of another kind
Written there are hidden truths
Collated by collective roots
Stashed under a different roof
Stored next to a bed of bark
Are twisted tales from the dark
You’ll find something similar to
Gideon’s Bible soaking up the dew
Nuclear holocausts they will survive
Though, these Hotels take their lives
So, if you’re a cockroach checking in
You just may want to find a friend
In Jesus!
Heart ache, a road break off route sixty-six
Over each river and every state line
Tour bus travellers all finding their fix
Everyone hyphened is heightened this time
Lost luggage losing it's share of the light
American dreams with shutters pulled down
Memphis blues music feels alright tonight
Elvis themed runners surprising the town
Rocky road blue grass fades slowly away
In between cities and one horse places
Cocktail umbrellas recall brighter days
Appreciating these world weary faces
Neighbours, travellers, old lovers and friends
Ask for directions to where this tale ends.
Is Hotel Cecil cursed?
A portal to hell?
How many have died there?
Accidentally or by murder and suicide?
It is the most notoriously haunted hotel in America.
Associated with macabre incidents, serial killers.
Downtown Los Angeles is host to these seven hundred rooms.
Shall I book you a room? There is always a vacancy.
Diabolical laughter.
New Orleans’ 1962 ostentatious hotel lobby
extravagant crystal fluted chandeliers
highly polished walnut counter tops
opulent Italian marble floors
plush scarlet velvet cushioned couches
swankly brass and glass décor
luxury never seen after nineteen sixty-two
He lived in room 757
just like a haiku
thats what he said to me
just like a haiku
eesh
There’s a reason I avoid this part of town
if not for the psuedo intellectualism that spreads
faster than herpes at a swingers party
then for the cheap drinks for too much money
the door guy that thinks he deserves a tip
keeping out the ‘riffraff’ as they used to say
The Polo shirt with the Raybans over in the corner
makes eyes at the one girl his buddies brought to the bar
if he plays his cards right
he might just have a chance
and why not?
Did I walk into a bar
or some sort of reality show
where are the cameras and who’s
ing with me?
The carbon copy cut outs of people all staged around the place
talking about haikus
and their twitter account
and their many followers
not my scene as I head to the door
As a pick up from my coat from the check
the girl tells me to have a good night
I doubt it
no one writes Haiku’s anymore
in skimpy short shorts
she marches into breakfast
no eyes go up
I had forgotten
the immodesty of youth
for two seconds
it’s a public place
another wears pajamas
and bedroom slippers
view of rich soo locks
grand hotel that's aged well
among new venues
The birds are chirping
Better go into the shades
Someone is singing.
Outside,
footsteps in the corridor
grow nearer then pass,
only to stop and knock
on a door
further down
followed by voices, sobs
and muffled sounds
wheeled off into a silence
until sometime hence
when footsteps again
will tread the floor
and there will be
a knock
on a door.
Rooms with history
old pictures do the talking
memories of past
We stayed at a haunted hotel
Where the rooms were red as hell
Spooks walk through the door
So ugly and gore
Giving us a stink nasty smell
By his glad host loved more than the rest!
A guest himself tries to look his best:
In his host’s house free to wear his crest,
Host spending on him like on farm’s past…
No doubt to Guest: Host House a real nest:
Much like a suckling Host’s cares ‘A breast;
Fame one must have touched for ‘A Guest’
The wonders one had wrought in the East,
Some ‘can’t-forget’ one left in the West;
One’s brash conquest of unique test…
The hotels in towns declare one Guest,
Their suites ready where Sweet Guest may rest
But I guess this should be Business’ Test
While I could choose to act like a pest…
After service claim “Far from impressed”
And that next time charges shall be pressed!”
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