My elevator rising

from urine-soaked streets

from crowds that don’t listen

from the lost

clinging to their mothers

asking, “why was I born?”

cables rusty,

splintering

threatening to drop

the next oversized ego

and there is only enough space

for one wanting

promotion

willing

to suffocate

to see the skyline

wanting to know

penthouse platitudes

of supermen

My elevator rising

grinding steel against steel

resisting the weight

of my fragile ego

threatening to break

Most who take this suicide ride

get stuck

between 3 and 4

as the melancholy mechanisms tighten

friends, disbelief and empathy

parked in the basement

as the sky lift stops

regrets set in

I could have been walking in the streets, among people, sharing penthouse dreams

but I got into this box

where I can’t breathe

no servicemen

no one listening

just a skeleton in a sauna

praying…

for My Elevator Rising

CLUNKING

squealing,

pealing sounds of cable

as my momentum breaks the trap of mediocrity

like lightening thundering up from the depths of nowhere

charging to heaven

without breaks

leaving my heart behind

feelings that made me human

now I’m screaming and I can’t hear

because of my elevator rising

like a jet engine

burning

as I reach the top

seeing the people and the places down there

friends I had and the many friendless faces

this view is something to see

the risen are dead

and I’m the only one here

while I write this poem from the penthouse

philosophizing.