This is just a reveal of poems that Lizzy named by their incoming order. There are poems up to 26. This post will only have 1 - 12 to make the size manageable. I will post 13 - 26 shortly. And will post a winners list separately later. The winners have been determined as i type. You can comment here if you wish, but it might be easier to wait for the winners threads to be posted. I will continue to refere to POEM #'s as seen here. Some poems have the same title, others no title at all. So 'naming' them a # is the best option.
Here is 1 through 12 as received by Lizz:
POEM #1
life in a seedy hotel
vicious circles of time
melt on the surface of a pool
whilst you're loafing here, on shore,
by the walls of a seedy hotel,
and raindrops are pattering, ruffling the water,
like sad lazy drumsticks of tired grasshoppers.
flashing round, indiscernible faces loom in the windows.
rum fellows, your guests, getting drunk, start to dance,
and you understand:
they're just little malicious devils of your recollections,
tattered puppets you tug by the cords,
amusing yourself with their fantastical pas.
mirrored faces, memories dancing, ripples of time in the water –
that's how the life passes by
POEM #2
Life in a Seedy Hotel
I wake, not with the sun
in my eyes
but slowly
coming to, slowly
knowing where I am
and that this is it
a book of poems
all sizes
lies on the nightstand
by the window
my suitcase
my life
the promise of the day
an echo
of
a dream
featureless as
your face now seems
I think I hear Raskolnikov
throwing a tantrum in the street
I think that was me
drifting off again
POEM #3
I did not realise
I didn't realise
that a room
could be so stained
and that a semi-naked bulb
could smear shadows.
I didn't suspect
that the price
would be high
and the service
would be shallow
and discourteous.
I should have seen
the faded neon
the falling paint
the splintered rails
persuading me otherwise.
I didn't balance
the hesitation
against the passion
that meandered
between lies
and deceit.
I didn't foresee
that the tariff
would obscure her beauty
and extinguish my desire.
I didn't realise
that this scene
was not mine
and that morality
would be higher
than the consequence.
I did not realise.
POEM #4
Life in a seedy hotel
The windows cracked and dappled with mildew on the sill.
The curtains rag like structures dripping Vaseline
An old decrepit rubber plant awash with dust and ash
This room is now my refuge and shelter from the world.
This hotel may be dingy it may be dank and bare
But here I live my life without a constant fear
You may all dream of riches you may all dream of gold
Until you find your peace of mind your life is put on hold.
Don’t pity me my refuge, don’t pity my despair.
For soon I will be strong again without eternal woe.
POEM #5
Shall I forget you so soon?
No, never for a moment.
We spoke no words
That summer day
On the river.
Shall I remember you now?
Yes, and for always.
We listened to silence
That autumn night
In the forrest.
I lie, of course.
In this seedy hotel
of my own choosing.
POEM #6
Broken Windows
broken windows
Wall paper in shreds
broken pipes
Tile in pieces
broken hearts
Littered glass
crying hotel
POEM #7
I Am A Hotel
I knocked on the door of the old hotel
Would anyone answer my call?
Was there anyone there at all?
The only answer rang like a bell.
Out rang the old story of love and woe,
Of wine, women, and song
I could not reply except to say No!
Not for me those comforts could throng.
Softly I walked away forlorn
The answer was not what I thought
It would be -- so cruel, joyless fraught
"These will not be seen again."
POEM #8
Vivavinyl For Our Time
Big Johnny, King of Vinyl
From the right side of the tracks
Took a revolutionary approach to music
“If it don’t go round
It don’t got no sound”
Big Johnny, King of Vinyl
used to say
“Cassettes are for squares”
and then he’d laugh at his nearly-joke
and ash would drop to the floor in respect
“The best of everything”
he boasted to his true love,
rented nightly to affirm his infidelity vows,
and Peggy-Sue said “yes, Big Johnny”
as she put his Little Richard on the deck
The Plaza, The Hilton, 5 Star life
He gave tips generously to Bell-Boys,
“always change the stylus every 6 months”
“Yes, Sir, Mr Big Johnny”
and Peggy-Sue sighed with pride by his side
December nights were warmed in his suite
by bee-bop 45s turning
and giant speakers stood in the corner,
Not because they were naughty
but because they were so damn good
Big Johnny’s heart was burning
Peggy-Sue refused a contact
denied they had a contract
defied him to sue Peggy-Sue
no Court would find for Johnny
she had the scars of his vinyl obsession
500 albums in his possession
“music comes from 33’s
and modern shit is first degree
murder of real sound”
and to emphasise his argument
sent Peggy-Sue on Heaven trail
a centre-hole his Holy Grail
but bad idea for this frail female
And now she’s more dead than frail
Big Johnny charged, no-bail
Jury took only as long as a double Presley
to nail his wooden heart
Judge searched for the right punishment
And sentenced Johnny, King of Vinyl
To Life in a CD Hotel
POEM #9
It Doesn't Matter Anymore
Jagged concrete, once pebbly smooth;
Broken pieces protrude
into the pathway all use.
Missteps by newcomers
Punctuated by stumbles;
Must really pay attention,
The dangers lead the way.
First floor gets used
Only to pay the rents;
Toilet in hall closet there,
Closed to all those who do.
Wooden steps with indents
From years of others’ soles;
Bannister with no splinters,
Guides all to second floor.
The door ajar, just doesn’t matter.
No belongings there,
To care about,
To care about, anymore.
Silver on the mirror,
Now faded to dust and shadows.
Temporary filth, long ago,
Found its way
Deep inside.
Dresser with burned memories
Of cigarettes long forgotten;
The change amidst old papers,
Neither matter anymore.
The glass, half full
Of dirty water;
With wisps of blood,
Dilutes to cloudy gray.
Friends that come to visit
Share a needle, empty bottles;
Stories, long ago forgotten,
Never remembered to be told.
Single mattress,
Partly covered,
Brownish sheet that drags the floor.
Grope down, through stench-worn socks,
Grasp cracked saucer of stale filters,
And make room for just one more.
Amidst the ashes,
Try a cigarette;
Then, who knows, maybe some rest.
The daylight hours,
Bring sparse refuge;
Smoke-stained windows,
that don’t matter,
Just don't matter,
Anymore.
Bare, bruised, knotted arms,
Hands dirty, blacker nails;
Reach beneath to scratch in places,
Where underwear,
Ceased to be, long ago.
Visions of life,
Sought and lost in cloudy water;
Can only wonder now.
Will the rent this day,
this week, this month
Bring to close,
The lifetime that ended
In a seedy hotel.
It just doesn’t matter.
It really doesn’t matter,
It just doesn't matter,
Anymore.
POEM #10
"On Your Way, Poet"
Any seedy rooms
to evade Poetry Police?
Take a haiku, bud!
POEM #11
Welcome.
Welcome lies the doormat
To guests who are fallen
On hard times and thin walls.
Labelled, boxed and shelved
They pass the old concierge
Who files them away in his mind
And grim rooms.
What name(s) to record
In the unread log
As Life locks them in
To a tower of dust.
The only way up
Is denied by the stairs
That carried hope in their youth
To higher dreams
Now each step up
Takes them down to despair
Pay cash on the nail
For the shared toilet door
With rolls of loo-paper
Thicker than shared party walls
Light bulbs fight
With grime-smeared windows
To make lives dimmer
Welcome lies the doormat
To purgatorial souls............
POEM #12
Room For a Nobody
Ten blocks from safety
the dirt on the sign is hiding no stars
Heartbreak Hotel
no holds, no Bars.
Left in a wounded alley
and left alone by all except
the hardest working girls
the nearest highway decided to turn right
right out of town
and right out of fear.
Only fools and Johns come here
“$20 a room
plus 5 for each trick”
the desk clerk objects to your intrusion
and in collusion with a dangerous doorman
sniggers at the Little Dicks
desperate enough to arrive at Heartbreak.
She leaves sniggering and slams the door
leaves you wondering how life ever got this poor
and you resolve to turn over a clean sheet,
this one is bloody anyway,
and Marlon Brando on the cracked 16inch black and white
says “the Horror, the Horror”.
NOT a winners list, this is Lizzy's incoming# order 1-12
NOT a winners list, this is Lizzy's incoming# order 1-12
Last edited by LaurieAK on Thu Oct 28, 2004 8:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Stop that, Charles. There's no slinking away allowed here 
.
I agree that it's an AMAZING array of poems to have to choose from. It was a treat for me to have them turn up in my Inbox
!
.I agree that it's an AMAZING array of poems to have to choose from. It was a treat for me to have them turn up in my Inbox
!
Last edited by lizzytysh on Thu Oct 28, 2004 9:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I am hoping that the poems can remain anonymous for at least a day or so, to give folks time to comment without knowing who wrote what on the poems and also on my 'judgements' if they'd like.
Then, how do you want the names revealed??
regards,
Laurie p.s. for the record, i still do not know who wrote what. I will find out the same time the rest of yous do...
Then, how do you want the names revealed??
regards,
Laurie p.s. for the record, i still do not know who wrote what. I will find out the same time the rest of yous do...
He's very transparent. 