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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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.

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!”

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!

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.

Floating in the ocean of love,

Not knowing what darkness lurks outside.

A tiny world, all for me.

A little reminder that humans can actually do magic.

A place I’ve been once and wish to go back.

Mother’s womb.

“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”

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

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.