Quotes about motel, page 4
A Woman’s Dirty Hair
An old car
Moves slowly
Through cold rain;
A modern city
Grows ancient
In the sad fog
Of urban despair.
A woman’s dirty hair
Is pulled
By an oily hand
In a rat-infested
Motel room.
God ignores suffering
But also kindly turns his head
To the indiscriminate sex
That helps the hopeless
Alleviate poverty-born
Unrelenting stress.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Remove Her Necklace
City Park and a path of flowers at dusk,
The dream-inducing night;
I’m in love, I’m in love
With her Christmas heart
And wait for her to meet me
A quarter past midnight.
In a primitive motel,
We’ll rest from the highway,
I’ll remove her necklace
And kiss the nape of her neck;
I’ll remove her glasses
And kiss her delicate eyes
Of inner vision,
She is all I desire to see.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Arriving At An Age
when one does not recognize
anymore: is this night or day?
the 24th of May or the
1st day of July
when the sound of the rain
feels like a whirling electric fan
in a cheap motel
when the sea breeze feels like
another useless trip away from home
when every place looks like the same
like a road stretching far away from your car
one day on a glaring light
and you feel like you are arriving at nowhere
and yet you cannot say the word
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At 52
with all my shortcomings
what can i be when i am 52?
will my wife leave me?
will my paramour stick with me even if i have no job anymore?
i am supposed to have a date tonight
with a very young woman at her prime subliminal urge
somewhere in my
favorite motel,
but i am having doubts really
about fate
about my fear when i reach 52 when finally i become
a ruin of myself
betrayed, lost and
alone...
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Imposed Composure
Late at night...
As owls watch from perches high,
Rings worn are slipped off.
Mixed drinks in bars are sent,
With winks hinting...
A discreet private meeting meant,
Is suggested with consent.
Eyes connect...
When 'last call' is heard,
Without one word these 'cooing birds'
Lock motel doors behind them.
Welcoming a sunrise drive...
No mention of husbands or wives,
Or which lies to tell selling deception
Is revealed!
This is concealed,
Hoping spouses do not smell a rotten egg,
Scented with tuna munched before lunch leaks...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just a little girl
You subjected her to a night of hell
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl
You took her to a run down motel
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl
Now you hold her crying soul to sell
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl
When you forced her out of her shell
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl
Couldn’t you tell by her face?
She had the smile of an angel
A virgin waiting for wedding bells
[...] Read more
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Me and My Pony
Me and my pony hooked up on the Chicago Eastside and went for a ride,
we grabbed a corndog in Springfield and pulled our way on to Route 66.
In Oklahoma we sat with an Indian chief, watching movies while lovers kissed,
and turned a collar to a Cadillac ranch in Amarillo, blue lips and fresh Texas snow.
No Hot dog, jumping frog, Albuquerque passed in a desert Gallup through New Mexico,
how we grinned standing on a corner in Winslow Arizona, it was such a fine site to see.
A thousand stars shot ancient arrows, sleeping safe under the Joshua Tree,
a Sunset Motel, the story ends, me and my pony dream of doing it all again
poem by Alexander Downie
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Route 66
LA to Chicago
eight state snake
the road not traveled
any more
Wind Wing Widows
orphans to time
passing lanes
sights, sounds, signs
road, motels, cafes
lost to memory
cracked black asphalt
white flight concrete
ribboned heaves
heat wave weaves
lines ride white hot
Silver Shadow
Rolls no longer
[...] Read more
poem by Astral Shepherd
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This Is Not a Motel
The moment you said to me,
You needed more time to find yourself...
I didn't expect to see you back here so soon.
That's why I cleaned out your room.
And sold some things!
The rest,
As you can see...
I threw away.
Oh...
I'm sorry!
I don't mean to be rude.
This is my new lover.
And we are blessed,
Not to have a problem...
Knowing exactly where we are.
You're welcomed to come in...
If you would like to.
'Wow.
I didn't think you would change like this.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Mutuality....
the beggar of a relationship is not blind.
his eyes are sharp, keen as the eagle's.
he may be limping, but his legs are perfect
for the Olympic marathon
he is in a pitiful state, not able to understand
that mutuality is a requisite for true love
that in happiness, two must dance the tango
of give and take, like cars enjoying the luxuries
of two way traffic, wide highways, accurate directions
on proper speed limits, full gas tanks,
good brakes,
and on long journeys, the luxury of having to
stop and shop
and find the best motel in town
enjoying the scenery on top
under the fullness of the moon
and the twinkles of the stars
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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