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the living with the living, the dead with the dead
The building had 60 stories
and he was 60 years old
Still cleaning it from bottom to top
for the past 35 years
one thing remained unchanged
as time passed
the coldness
Every surface he’d ever touch would
be as cold as the glass
of a window in the winter
And the people who
worked in the building were
pale and cold as vampires
He forgot how it was to be saluted
or how it was to salute
and get a reply
No one talked to the janitor
No one knew his name
No one cared
There were no souls in this isolated
monolith
that stood in the center
overlooking other monoliths
Hell is cold
and monotonous
and plays constant factory noises
or keyboard noises
and exudes smoke
Even the plants were made of
plastic and their flowers
and leaves had to be sprayed with alcohol
and wiped with a rag
Real plants wouldn’t
accept such treatment
They would punish you with their death
and that should be enough
But not for those pale vampires
The only thing alive
was him, the janitor
who imagined jazz music playing in
his mind as he scrubbed the tiles
and one mushroom that grew behind one of the
toilets in the women’s bathroom from
a used pad
He left it there for days
It was his little secret, his little friend
in this world of soulless beings
It was life sprouting against
impossible odds
Life in hell
It was something to look up to
every day
Something to kneel before and say
hello to and sing jazz to
and even pat gently with the finger
He promised himself that the day that
mushroom died
he would retire
So far it was still alive
Still sprouting spores that he
inhaled
and tasted with his tongue after
rubbing it gently with his finger
Living beings
stick together
regardless of species
Just like the dead do
***
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Vortex of Madness
Whirling, swirling, swiftly
Madness stranger creeps in
planting subliminal messages
of insanity into my mind
the voices, the voices
mindless masked intruder
digging graves of no meaning
finger hooked into my wall
in insane dots of fractured thought.
Whirling, swirling, swiftly
Stranger absorbs me, takes me away
caterwauling rhymes of madness
ebony rocks striking my face
unpredictable fire - sweet and sour
elevator erupting up but never stopping
dressing me with mad sparkled wreaths
blinks of delusion smite my eyes
spinning, spinning out of control.
Whirling, swirling, swiftly
Nonsense words scar my festering soul
moonlight falls out of loveless sky
collapsing into sunken eyes of mine.
dried up barren well, I lick my lips
feeling nothing, locked in darkness
heartbeat freezes, I don’t breathe
craziness prevails as I sigh softly
we are not so different at all.
Whirling, Swirling, Swiftly
Insanity is earth, twisted and fractured
marigolds marching, invading, closing ranks
madness is genius, kicking and screaming
bones jabbed with pain, without release
cemented feeling encasing my blackness
obsessed with death, don’t know where I am.
blooms of craziness hurled by stranger
infiltration of fogginess, flowing madness
mind wanderer lost in struggle evermore
out, out damned spot, blood on my hands.
Hunter
The hunter in the tangled thicket looked out through bloodshot eyes at the forest clearing before he ran toward his prey. He felt his anger boiling up from his cauldron of festering rage. Why did his father dislike him so much that his only childhood memories were of beatings and scathing remarks? He still had the scars that his father had inflicted. Even his mother hadn’t wanted him. Sometimes, she even sent him to bed without supper for no reason at all. Now that he was no longer a child, he could finally get back at all those who had caused him grief. His world was a dark, foreboding place as he tried to keep his escalating insanity in check.
A young woman was kneeling on the yellowed grass in the open space, picking wild strawberries and humming a little melody. Why should she be happy when he was so miserable? He took careful aim with his rifle, imagining she was a rabbit, and shot her in the back. She moaned as she flailed her limbs, trying to survive as she gasped her last breath.
The huntsman smiled to himself as he pondered his name, Chase. It was such an appropriate name for one who preyed on others. Running over to his young victim, he prodded her with his rifle but she didn’t budge. He wiped the saliva from his toothless mouth, slung her over his back, and headed back into the forest to the little dingy cabin where he lived.
“Ma! Pa!” he yelled, still trying to attain their approval after all this time. “Here’s another one for the barbie! Stoke up the grill!”
They Didn’t Believe Me
I hear his stomach growling so loudly it hurts my ears.
I run into my Mommy's and Daddy's room and tell them about the monster under my bed. "Go back to sleep, they mumble, "it was just a nightmare."
Now I am very mad. I look under my bed and see his glowing eyes.
"You sound very hungry," I say. "Go into Mommy's and Daddy's room and they will feed you.
So the monster does and they feed him.
"You were delicious," I hear him to say to my parents as he smacks his lips.
That's what they get for not believing me!
Hearing Your Name
Translucence of eyes
speaks to my soul,
a poem of light
curves of my need,
quiet grace
coy smiles and glances,
simmering lips
dew kissed morn.
Echoes
of butterscotch moon
I see you
dazzling star night.
Your flame kindles
my burning desire
intrigue arousing
strength of my loins.
Perfume engraved
permeating my mind,
gleaming ebony hair
your sensual disguise.
Drawn to your words,
hearing paradise,
needing to devour
splinters of time.
Soft caresses
lost in longing,
engraved in the heart
of deep shallow wells.
Quenching my thirst
pools of emotion,
cradled in enveloping peace,
overcome with shivers
when I hear your name.
Another Town, Another Train
“Day is dawning and I must go
You're asleep but still I'm sure, you'll know
Why it had to end this way
You and I had a groovy time”
We’ve had a nice time together
Talking and dancing, drinking in between
But when we went to bed
I realized I still wanted to be free.
I’m very sorry, I’m not ready yet
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready
Well, I’m now at the train station
Boarding a train to another town.
“Day is dawning and I must go
You're asleep but still I'm sure, you'll know
Why it had to end this way
You and I had a groovy time”
Magic Man in the Moon
Rakish man smiles
mercedes moon
spinning wheels
silvery waves
eyes dark
devious ebony skies
spirited lover
hovering in clouds.
Misted drapery opens
music plays
glistening petals drop
mouth of new moon
dancing in shadows
eyes on her.
Man paints moon onyx
with raspberry stars,
waltzing white swans
beckoning
in whispered secrets
magic potions.
White wine poured
cream crescent moon
he touches deep skin
with yearning light
opulence where
enchantment lies.
Kissing ocean’s reflection
entwining with sea
passionate alliance
with sun-glassed sun
moon holds sun
in egg cup of morning
spinning, spinning, spinning
Defrocking Miss Divine
Godly Miss Divine
Immaculate Conception
heavenly woman
beatific to all men
until she became defrocked
by Mr. B Devil
who came in darkness
in caped disguise
melodious words
purring from lips
hiding yellow teeth
and heart impure
seduced Miss Divine
blackout of light
disappeared in a pouf
leaving her in gloom
without her virginity
no longer divine.