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White walls
In a hotel room
Sharing everything
Blind faith
Collapsing in passion
Attempting to escape
Lies
Life
Finding our place
Between the shadows
Of inescapable disaster
Forbidden thoughts
Invade my present tense
As the weather changes
And the summer
Gives way to fall
I fall
Slipping back
Into a mindset
Where I feel you
Throughout my being
My better mind, fleeing
et allí Aug 24
Patas de perro con
mi primacho Miguel
en Pereira, buscando
un hotel pa pagar
la estancia de una cuartico
cerca al centro o
a poca distancia
del burdel.  

Nos tomamos uun jugo de caña
y como ya tengo la maldita maña, llamamos al toro porque
sin esa hierbita jamás
cerraría pestaña

Dándole vueltas al centro, esperándolo a él
Vi un lindo edificio
y le dije a Miguel:
"un segundo hermano que me
  gustó ese hotel, voy a entrar a
  ver si hay cupo"
y a cuánto estaba
una noche en aquél.

Me mira bien serio y
me deja pasar
quedándose afuera pa disimular.

"Buenas tardes caballero,
bien pueda...
¿En que le puedo servir?"

"Busco un cuartico que mi primo
  y yo pensamos quedarnos en
  Pereira esta noche, ¿a cuánto
  están?"

¿Cómo así? me contesta
y como creía que
no me había entendido...
repiti la encuesta.  
Otra vez ....¿Cómo así?

En eso momento,
que pendejo te cuento,
me di cuenta que
no era un hotel.
De un salón a la izquierda
salían los llantos
seguidos por un desfile
en negro de luto.....
y yo hijueputa ¡"que bruto"!

Volteaba a ver si el primo ya sabía que pasaba cuando
soltó la gran carcajada.  

Huí sin mu decir
buscando la risa de Miguel
que decía uy... ¿que pasó no es hotel?

Pero se la hice también
cuando nos recogió el torito
y comenzamos a fumar y fumar. Tantos baretos estilo Bob Marley que ya no nos podíamos ver.

Cuando se escapó todo el humo Miguel se detuvo
antes de casi caer.  
Con ojos cruzados y labios babeados empecé
a burlarme también.
Story bout my cousin letting me make a fool of myself in Pereira Colombia by asking the front desk at a funeral home if they had rooms for the night.  And how I got him back
Shadow Dragon Aug 20
You left me in the dark
just for me to know
I was in the shadow too.

After all I'm not surprised
I recognize
you must carry on.

Now that the thunder starts
I might let you know
that you could have done better.

I said things I shouldn't
and didn't say other things
that I should have.

I dont know if I feel relieved
or sad in a way that makes me
go to the heart break hotel.
Gray Jun 1
I climbed into my car and bid farewell,
For i was off to go to some old hotel.
After several hours of nonstop driving,
I became closer and closer to arriving.
Even though the trip fueled my boiling frustration,
I finally reached my desired destination.
I got into my room, and jumped into my freshly cleaned bed.
Yet for some reason my mind has some built up dread.
Deep deep down i know there’s something i simply cannot deny,
Which is at some point i’ll have to man up and say goodbye.
Mari May 28
We check
into a hotel room:
"Let's talk"

                     doesn't come into it
                when leaving work
           before the light does means:
      "Let's get out of here."  


Emerging
                             from The Underground

         buffing my fingertips along the red brick,
              I reflect: no wonder
                   we tear our clothes.

              The door clicks:
         "Come in."

     There were guns behind the curtains
          but I saw
               a chance at
                                                             fre­edom


so I ran.
I suppose it's about love at all costs. Love for yourself.
anya May 2
i sometimes wonder how many stories of love there are that are hidden behind locked doors.

behind locked doors, under blankets, above messy bed sheets,

or behind locked doors, alone on living rooms, bleeding through paper.
—it is all the same.
Stewie Apr 25
sometimes, it's ok to turn off all the lights in your hotel room. you draw the curtains open and allow the twinkling lights from the tall city buildings to sprinkle your skin. an overwhelming, yet familiar feeling creeps into your soul like a slow-moving fog. ah, this is called loneliness my dear. instead of being afraid, grab the hand that loneliness embraces you with and dance. allow the passerby's among the roads below to witness a beautiful being embracing the night and proving that sometimes, it's ok to be lonely.
You can be lonely.
Angel Turner Apr 23
We watched
With shells in our bags
Dominoes in boxes,
Marionette distractions
Letter passing
Pure manipulation
Colors of our childhoods
A brother through window pain
And learned to see beauty
Without having to understand
A poem I wrote after watching a beautiful play titled Hotel Cassiopeia.
If you ever get the chance to watch it
take it
xxx
sarah Apr 6
white hotel sheets
summer sun dancing on my skin
waking up while the rest of the world is
sound in sleep
hot cocoa inside on a snowy day
scented candles and soft light
streaming through half closed curtains
books filled with poetry that makes you
feel like you’re floating and
songs that hug you with their words
evening walks right by the lake
and you
your arms and you
you you you
Getting off the train
they walked down
to the cheap hotel.

She gave her name
as was his
a Mr & Mrs Coles.

The woman behind the desk
gave a look of suspicion
but handed them the key.

They climbed the stairs
to the room. A pokey hole
with an adjoining bathroom.

They unpacked their bags
then sat on the double bed.

She bounced up and down.
Should be o.k. she said.
He nodded and smiled.

She got up and drew
the curtains closed
shutting out
afternoon light.

Don't want those people
in the office opposite
gazing in she said.

He began to undress
and so did she.

It seemed odd doing it
in the afternoon.

He could hear the traffic
passing by.

Someone called
from the street.
A dog barked.

They climbed into bed
and snuggled down.

She was a decade or so
older than he and more
knowledgeable
of the sexual game.

He wondered why
the dame downstairs
gazed at him
and the scribbled name.
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