Somewhere east along Highway 37
A neon sign flashes intermittently vacancy
The Scarecrow Hotel remains alone
Stained threadbare carpets muffle TVs
And tearful phone conversations
Sixteen parking spaces yet only four filled
Warm shower and a sagging bed for the night

The ancient bricks lure the demented and sick
Vultures eying through the windows
Black and blue clouds crying endlessly
Wooden floors feeling troubled feet
Surrounded by ravens and blackbirds
Five miles east of the bloodhound river

She threw her suitcase on the queen
Predictably it flew wide open
The latches never held right, just like her heart
Two changes of clothing to cover her bruises
He’ll never touch her again but
Wrinkled clothing and a wad of cash
Don’t heal scarred faces

The letter “E” is barely visible in the sign
Voices humming a overture in the cellar
Last names engraved on walls by spirits
Doorknobs hanging by three threaded bolts
Driveway gravel is black as night
Welcome mat covered in red ants

He stares into the chipped mirror
Five o’clock shadow daily dulls razor blades
Just like the rings that dull his once bright eyes
The phone bill shows her increasing texts
Every time he travels to pay for her wants
More hours, more money, more fancy things
Less of him with less of her, he looks away

Dark stories unfolding in the rooms
Sheets covered in lies and betrayal
Cigarette smoke stirring up shadows
Tiny cracks in every bathroom’s mirror
Brown mustard dripping from faucets
Stained tears found in the corners of closets

She hears voices not her own
Listens every day upon a rented bed
One weekend she opened her eyes
Bloody hands and a very dull knife beside her
Finally a quiet clean house
Ever since then she lives with a smile
Mama taught her little girl don’t take no shit

Storytellers, dreamers, and howlers visit
Intending to sleep but fall in the depths
Replaying memories of the past
Cynics and liars raise a toast at the bar
Tipping the bartender bullets instead of dollars
Quarrels served at the table tops

He loosens a tie used as a tourniquet
Money well spent on the tricks of a whore
Last Friday he played two gigs stacked
Brain damage found in riding a white horse
Picks up his guitar and hums a few chords
Remembers the eyes of a lover
It’s another night, another hotel, another road

A neon sign flashes vacancy nonstop
Full of headaches, screams, and lost souls
Built on a cemetery of the Crowe family
Generations of terror between 6am and midnight
Sleep is just a word inside these haunted walls
Stories never die…


Braeden – non italic

Tara – Italics


This was a fun collaboration! I enjoyed it. Check out her blog if you haven’t.

Hunks of rubbish

Scattered bottle caps

Lumps of fast food containers

Dried up cheese stuck to a

week old pizza box

Sour milk and pickle juice

creating a horrid lake

Spread out diseases disperse

like ants and centipedes

Horrifying stenches linger

Ashes expanding miles and miles

Mountains of a monstrosity

Lingering funk travels like a turtle

Baking and sizzling in the sun

Like a junkyard in the desert

Rusty carburetors and mixed bolts

Tossed out old relationships like

last years self absorbed garbage


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Love my blackened scars

Love my lopsided flaws

Love my fatal quirks

Love my enigmatic perception

Love my complicated essence

Love my simple comforter

Love my undying will

Love my quivering fears

Love my shadow’s tears

Love my effervescent soul

Love my conflicted backbone

Love my distinctive complexion

Love my colors of my being

Promenading around the vintage square

Marching up and down like a soldier

Preserving the gloomy kingdom

The absolute and dreary monarch

Glancing up at the gnarling sultan

Toying with the saddened jesters

As they stare out the tear jerking windows

Mimes crawling outside the gates

in front of the gory and sopping river

Stumbling citizens speak like dragons

Clans of violence raid innocent homes

Barking dogs howling at the dying moon

Chopped off heads laying in ditches

Limbs shambling to the sunrise

A division between absurdity and insanity

Born in the thick of Chardonnay

Sweetness is just a flavor in a fifty mile radius

Dingy peasants begging for a light instead of bread

Inhaling the essence of bloodstains

Waking up in a bath of blush

Stuck in misery and fallen pieces

Like a dream shivering in maroon

Caves of turmoil splatter illness

An unknown species walks in the dark

Spewing words like tall weeds

Cutting through rocks with a monotone voice

Using only four syllable words

Monsters tall as skyscrapers touching

the tip of cerulean clouds

Gripping winds with hands as large as boulders

Roaming wicked jungles and grudged mountains

Over twenty thousand characters gliding on soiled clay

Surrounded by a lightning cage

Seeking a path to return their lost world

Unknown to how they arrived in Herston

Waffle always ran in a circle in my room

Waffle always dashed down the steps for the bouncing ball

Waffle always wagged his tail rapidly when he heard my voice

Waffle always sprinted down the hall

Waffle always gave me goosebumps when he barked

Waffle always jumped on me with delight

Waffle always woke me up in the morning

Waffle always kissed me goodnight

Waffle always made me laugh when he ran for the stick

Waffle always made me smile when he laid beside my head

Waffle always gobbled up his food really fast

Waffle always slept on the end of the bed

Waffle always knew his place

Waffle always carried his bone

Waffle always loved his dog house

Waffle always knew his home

She called me the extravaganza

She referred me as the ladykiller of the sunset

She pronounced me as the wind maker

She drank me like a fifth of whiskey

She buttered me up like southern shrimp

She screamed my name at 2:30 in the morning

She labeled me as the greatest in Ariel black

She pegged me as the arrogant smoke in the air

She suggested I was a landmark and a land mine

She appointed me as the certified one

She nominated me as the silk machine

She declared me as the ten foot beast

She called me hard as a rock

Never will I forget your palm

Never will I forget your kiss in the wind

Never will I forget your precious star

Never will I forget the crack in the pavement

Never will I forget the sparkling memories

Never will I forget your endless passion

Never will I forget the missing number from your mailbox

Never will I forget the calm sea in your eyes

Never will I forget the color of your door

Never will I forget the letter I read before you left

Never will I forget your wings of freedom

Never will I forget the faded sign

She slips on theological rhetoric

She hides behind the voodoo stuck to her silent tongue

Wearing her vixen like dress

She acquired accolades and accommodations from the saliva of the burnt orange wolf

She spoke the language of love in riddles and teenage rhymes

Wearing her Madusa like pearls

She mishandled truth and washed down a liter of half bitten lies

She threw away fortunes and laughed at others misfortunes

Wearing her witchcraft perfume

She roared liked the bitch she was and ignored the crowd who carried her on a Persian rug

Wearing her battle ax over her shoulder

I love it

when you sit on me

I love it

when you lay on me

I love it

when you sleep on me

I love it

when I see things I shouldn’t see

I love it

when I am decorated with pillows

I love it

when I feel your blanket

I love it

when you spend time with me

Unsettled ransom note

Detailed commands

Requirements in bold

A letter of disgust and greed

Jaw dropping and bewildered

Unbelievably open

Shyness hit the floor

Deep into the gutter

Reread multiple times

Filter out the window

I might have to do it

A part of me wants to do it

Create black and white copies

Outsmarted and in driver seat


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Monstrous white fangs

Chameleon like eyes

Leader of the Bitten Skulls

A behemoth ego among demons

Herculean strength and power

Raised by lions from the depths

of the pitch black mountains

Absorbs detail like a sponge

Cold and calculating

A nephew of the prince of darkness

Stir of screeching echoes

rise from his vampire like voice

Barking out commands

Inserting violent demands

Reading his name backwards

speaks volumes and sizable truth


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Deep seated in the gunk

Footprints in the murky ashes

Sinking into an underworld

Falling and mellowing

Landing in a glass castle

dipped in sautéed wishes

and a marshmallow incubus

Surrounded by endless prisms

Quills held by unicorns

Chapters of bliss overflowing

Watercolors of love hanging

from sycamore trees

A countryside of antiques

Restoring faith in humanity

Miles of a golden beach

Under a painted yellow sun

Hatred and greed disappeared

Positivity is embraced

Harmony is embodied

Engaging thoughts bloom

The hatful of soot deceived millions

Swinging side to side

Hopping smooth down Sinatra Lane

Inhaling and exhaling Ol’ Blue Eyes

Tracing the winding road of jazz

Crooning heartfelt melodies

Absorbing the bright crisp air

Hopscotch and miracles glisten

Feeling the polka dots and moonbeams

Dolores falling in love every day

Theatre’s full of baby angels

Lush string sounds vibrating on TV’s

Verses spoken with delight

A joyful never ending jukebox

of happiness in every home

Goddess of nasty

Overpowering tone

Awestruck from her essence

Dissolved purity

Stars bend from her toxic voice

Synchronized chants of darkness

Chimes shatter into pieces

Eyelashes made up of swarf

Rivers stop flowing

Mountains crumble before her feet

Demands and commands mesh

Sight of a dictator

A captivating tornado soul

Destroying all of humanity

I’ve walked in the house of 10,000 socks

Right in the center of the room was

a checkerboard clock

From zig zag, polka dots, solid and all the colors from the rainbow

I couldn’t believe what I saw and had no where to go

Piles and piles, stacked up next to the walls

Socks everywhere and down the hall

When the clock struck nine it made a rambunctious noise

From the very top bursted 10,000 tiny toys

The socks begin to move and out came the Zentals

I couldn’t believe what I saw, they seemed very kind and all very gentle

They played and played until it was dark

They were very nice and had big hearts

The Zentals were giving and very caring

They had wonderful manners and understood sharing

They crawled back into the socks and turned off the lights

You could hear 10,000 Zentals saying good night!

Smiles turn frail and sapphire

Grins carrying cobalt bullets

Wrestling with a pocket of change

Standing in front of a phone booth

Eight hundred miles away from truth

Love took a freight train to misery

No emergency brake on this passage

Faster than a speed of light

Lost in all of the choices and indecision

Eight hundred miles away from lies

Wearing a royal trench coat of pain

Feeling like a thousand pounds

Too frozen and solid to remove

Still standing in front of a phone booth

Eight hundred miles away from her

Debating and contemplating

Fumbling with the quarters

Should I call her from Indigo

Gliding into a smog

Pouring firewater into a shot glass

Exchanging gossip over

mixed drinks wrapped around

a mesmerizing saxophone

Overheating remarks on Socrates

Reciting lines from the book of Proverbs

Observing the couple in the

deep chocolate booth sipping

on luscious martinis and chain smoke

to the sound of the rhapsody

Entwined notes and soulful galore

Hypnotized to his shuffling feet

As he sways back and forth

Nicknaming him Jazz Brown

A entertainer in the center of the heart

Playing for thousands over decades

Married to his sweet saxophone

Colors of funk whip around the stop lights

Fumes travel like month old asparagus

Bleach and detergent don’t sit well

Dead bodies buried in ancient basements

Conversations stall in the damp corner

Book shelves wail in the dens

Rats scatter in the shape of the branch

A town polluted with synchronized lies

Smaller than a ball point pen

Memorized every decaying neighbor

The stench has dispersed for miles