deepundergroundpoetry.com
Quiet Hotel Wait
Could it be this hotel room
has become a home,
that in its sparseness
and electrical hum,
a home,
that I could never be,
from this time on,
separated from?
and the chatter and laughter
of all their voices outside,
is as another species,
completely benign,
with no reason to encounter.
and the Spirit and matter
of all thought and experience
in this life of everyone,
is just as foreign and contained,
as all the traffic and building
all ceaselessly beyond the window.
here I am in slow survival,
a dormant expense;
yet always is there a revival,
and a return to the Expanse.
has become a home,
that in its sparseness
and electrical hum,
a home,
that I could never be,
from this time on,
separated from?
and the chatter and laughter
of all their voices outside,
is as another species,
completely benign,
with no reason to encounter.
and the Spirit and matter
of all thought and experience
in this life of everyone,
is just as foreign and contained,
as all the traffic and building
all ceaselessly beyond the window.
here I am in slow survival,
a dormant expense;
yet always is there a revival,
and a return to the Expanse.
Published 18th Mar 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 1
comments 6
reads 732
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
18th Mar 2014 9:55pm
19th Mar 2014 10:42am
Yeah, no doubt...
One of the jobs I work at requires me to travel and stay at second-rate hotels and motels across the lands. I was in the thick of a ten day stitch at a particular room, when I wrote this, along with various other pieces, such as the "KNOCK KNOCK..." piece I posted on the site yesterday, and the "I have decided..." piece posted after this - so in other words I was beginning to get a little loopy. The room was quiet and pleasant enough to shed and mold into, but outside in the halls... drunk industrial labourers passed out, and a cracked up woman of the night asking for food in the elevators, and on one night the cops busted a guy in an SUV in the parking lot with $80,000 of stolen jewelry - little things like that, it was a name brand chain hotel too.
I'm in a hotel room as I type this now, can't sleep, and will be in one for another week or so. As long as the room is a little peeled and worn, and doesn't have bedbugs, it's okay, it's like home, a place to let a few spills out from time to time. There can be nothing worse in the material universe than a super new, super clean hotel room!
But all in all, I fricking hate hotel rooms...
One of the jobs I work at requires me to travel and stay at second-rate hotels and motels across the lands. I was in the thick of a ten day stitch at a particular room, when I wrote this, along with various other pieces, such as the "KNOCK KNOCK..." piece I posted on the site yesterday, and the "I have decided..." piece posted after this - so in other words I was beginning to get a little loopy. The room was quiet and pleasant enough to shed and mold into, but outside in the halls... drunk industrial labourers passed out, and a cracked up woman of the night asking for food in the elevators, and on one night the cops busted a guy in an SUV in the parking lot with $80,000 of stolen jewelry - little things like that, it was a name brand chain hotel too.
I'm in a hotel room as I type this now, can't sleep, and will be in one for another week or so. As long as the room is a little peeled and worn, and doesn't have bedbugs, it's okay, it's like home, a place to let a few spills out from time to time. There can be nothing worse in the material universe than a super new, super clean hotel room!
But all in all, I fricking hate hotel rooms...
18th Mar 2014 10:18pm
I love this... the words really draws you in so you feel like you're right there. :-)
19th Mar 2014 10:52am
Thanks for the comment. I hope you DON"T read the reply I left above, as it might ruin any pleasant images of a hotel room you may have dreamed into. I suppose B&B rooms are nice, and rooms in a thatched ye olde building in some ancient village among the pleasant high pastures of the Alps. But in america...
I probably shouldn't talk too much, and wreck things even more for the dreamy reader...
Thanks again.
I probably shouldn't talk too much, and wreck things even more for the dreamy reader...
Thanks again.
20th Mar 2014 6:48am
You have painted a picture of historical value, at least to me. Of course, I try not to let any of my good memories be distorted by the facts.
I spent 40 years in those humble abodes and it was in some of those beds that I learned to appreciate a good hammock.
Here's to history
I spent 40 years in those humble abodes and it was in some of those beds that I learned to appreciate a good hammock.
Here's to history
21st Mar 2014 4:55am
