#elevator
I’ve begun recycling emotions
so they’ll last longer
and we can save the rat-bag planet.
Sometimes I jump in elevators
I did it this morning
on the third floor
this guy looked at me, askance.
“Do you think you’re going to live forever?” I demanded.
Sometimes I look at Peter and think
that he’s the sexiest guy on earth
I want to ravish him - and we’re at breakfast.
Can a boyfriend be TOO perfect?
“I could do better,” I tell him, out of the blue
- because you’ve got to keep them on their toes.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said, looking up
from his buttery-croissant, sympathetically.
“You’re doing your best,” he added.
“Wait,” I said, “what are we talking about?”
.
.
Songs for this:
What's going on (the Detriot mix) by Marvin Gaye
What's going on by Donny Hathaway
What's going on by Paul Carrack
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 1:41 PM UTC
I cough a little,
it sounds muffled, like a thump --
on a concrete wall.
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 4:47 AM UTC
Just watch the children run
Out of the lift (I've never
Experienced it but since when was tuition fun?)
One
After another
Parents searching amongst the crowd
To find their own amongst the others
And it's not like they're particularly loud
But I still can't tell who's who
And when they all make it to
Mummy and Daddy
Dashing past me
As I stand plastered to the wall
I'm just wondering how they're all
So happy
Now another group of adults now
Probably off work
Wondering how
To pay the bills, feed the family
These are the ones with the more
Relatable faces
Headspace
Only for
Work and stress
And honestly this change is happening far
Too early for the people in our
Age and now the question I'm asking is
“When will they grow out of this”
This naivety, this knowing
That growing
Up won't change a thing
Because that isn't what I've been seeing.
Jan 15, 2025
Jan 15, 2025 at 8:21 AM UTC
Fifteen years going on sixteen,
well recall many pinprick
moments of our combinatory
existentialism
But an early moment reappeared,
in a period of contemplation as I
this morn, wove my way thru Manhattan
city streets, during my diurnal walk of
composition, a tradition Walt Whitman
passed on to me, in Leaves of Grass, so
over my Manhattan journey~obstacle course,
now a three times weekly endeavor, of
a two and one quarter miles duration,
this came unto me
Very early on, in our ro~dance
we attended some cocktail/
business function, properly attired,
a first for us, and thus a tad exciting,
and in the elevation machine at the
Waldorf Astoria Tower sky bounding,
she stun gunned me with the simplest
of positories…
How shall you introduce me?.
this nimble tounge, so rarely at a loss,
gave an intuitive and simple answer:
You are my girl friend, no pretense,
I proffered and she thoughtfully
replied,
*While an absolute truth,
perhaps since I am a Nana,
over twice,
and you, a Grandfather
over thrice,
perhaps something less
juvenile is in order?*
Mmm, perhaps you are right, then
let me suggest boldly to name you
as my lover, none other and let
their mouths fall agape so full
of their crackered
canapés?
She paused a moment on our ascent,
replying,
*Undoubtedly true and such
a good lover are you, but the touch of ******
in many an impoverished mind, gives it a
tangy hint of the unseemly tho, b u t
if that’s your preference, lover will it be,
but perhaps wordsmith, you keep on trying?*
Ah I knew a rejection letter when I got one,
so cruising higher, proffered a ‘my best friend?’
but her glance clearly indicated that suggestion,
wholly unworthy of my skilled verbosity and
more appropriate to a dodgy dog, if such I did
possess
The elevators of NYC, are sure and swift in
elevating its population, and a growling
desperado emotive was taking me hostage,
I had what is now a “3S look,” an abbreviation
for when I wear my Simply Stupefied Smile
*Perhaps I may suggest that should the need
arise for you to introduce me in a phrase accurate
and simple, that might suffice?*
Smilingly weakly, I, poet, awaited what surely
was to be an obvious solution to my wordy
and worldly failure,
*Please introduce me as
Your Biggest Fan
and I shall, dear one,
if asked,
will offer you up as my
Only Love Poet*
And to this day, when introduction~making,
I feel the sweet smile of an invisible and
silent kick in my humbled and egotistical
****
Mar 9, 2024
Mar 9, 2024 at 7:13 AM UTC
Waiting on the elevator
For my day of labor
Instant gratification after
Days of waiting safer
Now we talk in secret
Spaces craving the others
Flavor of disgust leaving
Rust in my joints and bones
Masochistic I remember
Pain has always been my
Home.
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 8:35 AM UTC
I caught you smiling
Through our kiss
In the chaos of the elevator
Wishing we were taking our clothes off
To lay down next to each ones body
And stare the stars upon us
Dead lights but oh they shine so bright
I wish you could see
That you shine just the same
Inside my heart.
I'll go crazy for you if I have to
And I say it again
You don't have to do a blood pact with me
I'm already attached to you
Happy guy who still makes me shine along.
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC
the sun will die
but not for a long time
not before our own infinities
collapse into the absurdity and
the unimportance of it
all.
the sun will die
but not before goodwill
closes its doors one last time.
so long ****** $1 books and
memories of old people couches
that smelled like **** and beer and your great-grandfather's
apartment.
yeah, the sun will die
but not before those
kids who used to pick on you
and that ******* on the train
who got kicked in the ***** for making lewd comments in the quiet car
become worm food for
more decent creatures.
the sun will ******* die
so be glad.
everything ends including
all us ********
us heavy breathers and
old ladies and ex-cons and alcoholics and plain humans.
the sun will die
but we got other things to worry about
more relative than all the others
so we may as well
enjoy
the
wait.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC
Floating
Low
Enough
To
Press
The
Basement Floor.
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
my writing class is above the pharmacy.
an old elevator
still rising
when the doors open.
nothing poetic happened to me today
so why am i here
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
I'm stuck in an elevator
Between floors
I can't remember if it was going down,
Up,
Maybe sideways,
I guess it doesn't matter anymore.
I'm stuck in this lift,
Alone,
I've always been alone.
Ten years ago I thought I was,
You convinced me otherwise
Now you're gone,
Moving up,
Or down,
With somebody else.
And I'm stuck,
Between floors,
With myself.
You told me in the end I was terrible company,
Now I know,
It's true.
I don't know that person
Looking back at me
In that mirror
In a lift,
That is stuck
Between floors,
Maybe 9 and 10,
Both are my lucky numbers,
Not anymore.
I've been trapped in this cabin
For hours
Perhaps days,
I'm not sure
You took my watch.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 5:25 PM UTC
Just your regular Friday.
Trapped in a poorly lit elevator
with three other strangers.
The only things they have in common are that
they’re all wearing red shoes,
and that they’re all going up.
Everyone is listening to their own music -
a weird mix of
rap, rock, indie and folk
that sounds great played in the same time.
No one knows where they’ll get off the elevator,
at what storey, nor if they’ll take a left or right afterwards.
It’s all a mystery.
The first couple of floors pass easily,
maybe someone even cracks a joke
or makes a funny comment
and they all smile at their mirror reflection.
Suddenly, the elevator clutches between floors
and they get to see their faces for the first time.
They are mesmerized.
Although they have nothing in common besides the red shoes,
They feel as if they are doppelgangers on the inside;
They wake up in each-other’s heads
and it all feels comfortable for a while,
The chairs are cosy and the food is great!
The mirrors disappear and they start to see the world from above.
they realise that there’s no insurance,
and that they’re suspended in mid-air,
half way between the earth and the sky,
a band of unknown,
4 complete strangers,
everyone trying to act cool,
posing for an imaginary sub-genre cover album photo,
that no one will get to listen to.
Minutes pass and they become hours,
sky becomes sea
and clouds vanish.
They get tired of looking out the window
and all the windows look tired of looking out of them.
Someone finds a door and opens it.
He looks at the others, waves, then jumps.
They’ll never know if he drowned,
got burned in the atmosphere or
ended up on the good side
of the freshly buttered toast.
One of the remaining three starts taking selfies,
Smiling at his virtual image,
not being bothered at all
that the image doesn’t smile back,
being convinced that, in this way,
he’s slowly becoming part of a special form of theatre,
with a smiling/sad face construction,
a bipolar bear with
the heart of an eagle.
The second one starts writing nervously on the walls;
endless lines of pathetic reality;
a combination of feelings, lies,
email passwords,
social media security questions
and lots and lots of sophistry…
everything intended to serve as a rock-solid personal legacy
after the elevator’s presumed crash.
The third one gets locked in his own head,
carefully observing all of them,
gazing in the blank,
with his headphones still in his ears,
but with no music on,
no plan in his mind,
no clean underwear,
no purpose at the end of the journey,
no solution,
no answer for any of the police’s questions,
trapped in an elevator
like a great idea in somebody’s head,
in a brain crack situation.
He is all alone,
humming sad chick tunes,
slowly losing his wit and grit.
The elevator walls reappear,
and he is now going up again,
by himself,
slowly,
surrounded by three pairs of red shoes
that were made for walking,
but are now
floating around the universe,
half-way between God and Darwin.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ypofGDdHpo
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 6:43 AM UTC
in and out doors, i go
when the shadows show, i turn
stuck in an elevator, that keeps going up
let me out, bring it to a complete stop
the light seems to follow me
as i seek to find peace
crawling through the snow
rain falls upon my skin
here i go, here i will sleep
Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
Last night I had a hard time.
I was thinking of you before I fell asleep.
And while I was sleeping,
I was dreaming of you.
And in my dream,
We were together.
I held your hand,
You called me "Babe."
It was amazing.
It was a dream come true.
But then in my dream,
You got on an elevator.
So I followed you in,
And turned around.
And you pressed the bottom floor button,
And quickly ran out.
I was trapped in the elevator,
Plummeting to the bottom.
Just like I feared would happen
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
I waited for an elevator
It was an exceptionally long pause,
And there was a group of three arguing
Over the meaning of a clause.
I knew the answer to their query,
But questioned if I should reply.
Social stigmas can be strange
So I decided to be shy.
They searched their minds,
They racked their brains,
And I just stood there -
The answer boiling on my tongue.
My elevator arrived just then,
And I reluctantly stepped inside.
The doors closed slowly, slowly,
And I heard their voices die...
...So it is with my faith.
Many people are searching
And I have the answer,
But I am too afraid to speak.
So I step inside an elevator,
And lift myself above their problems
Pridefully rejecting the searching
Of those who need an answer.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 8:36 PM UTC
Much like being trapped in an elevator,
Awaiting your rescue,
Wondering if you should be the one to save yourself,
But you start panicking once the doors wont open,
You feel yourself shrinking,
Drowning in your thoughts,
Internally collapsing from the stress,
You begin to hyperventilate,
But not audibly, no, it's completely silent,
The utter silence itself is deafening,
You question the stability and structure
Of the suspended room that your life is being held in,
Back to the silence, was that a creaking sound
Or are you just starting to become paranoid now,
Is someone on the outside trying to pry the doors open
To help rescue you, and get you out,
Or is someone simply mindlessly hitting the elevator button
Waiting for it to come, though it never will,
Surely they'll become annoyed and just take the stairs,
But how are you supposed to get out of this situation,
This state of complete panic, you start to sob,
And that's when you realize that this is what anxiety feels like.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
I walk across the landing
and through the double doors
and aim towards the lift shaft,
that's where I'm going, of course.
It's as if it hears my footsteps
and needs no company
as that old elevator
shoots down to level 3.
Every single morning
as I approach its doors
it disappears pretty quick
down to those lower floors.
I swear it sees me coming
and doesn't like the look
so as I rush to hitch a ride
the **** thing slings its hook.
The doors are on a system,
computerised I read.
But whenever I get near them
they change the ****** speed.
I stand alone here waiting
and it just isn't fair
'cause I am stuck up here
when I want to be down there.
It speeds down to the bottom
and sits on the ground floor
you can here it taunting you
with the movements of the door.
Then after what seems ages
it gradually starts to rise
giving me some hope at last
as I can hear the noise.
Then it makes a pit stop
at another floor
and seems to take forever
to open and close its door.
Each and every level
seems to get a viewing
as if it wants to **** some time,
with my mind it is ********
And then it reaches the sixth floor
as if it is my saviour
and finally opens up the doors
as if it's doing a favour.
It seems as if this machine
requires me to stalk
so now I've found the stairwell
and instead I'm going to walk.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
Claustrophobia confines me
Noise is muted
Time slows down
The sound of my racing heart fills the air
The world turns like a haunted merry-go-round
And my sight blurs
I gulp in stale air
The smell of mass body odour stings my nose
My palms are sweating
Fellow humans beside me turn into snarling aliens
My body shrieks at me to run
But the ground grabs my feet with clawed fingers
Panic is overwhelming common sense
I am losing my mind
A scream slowly rises to my throat
DING
The doors open
One sigh of relief
And my body gratefully flies out into freedom
Never again
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 4:37 AM UTC
: LAST NIGHT—
I watched a ***** internet video;
a man getting halved by an Elevator.
It was a slow process.
— LISTEN:
I am not really sure if I want
to think about it at the moment— and
I certainly don't want to write it out. That would require me
a stretch of contemplation —AND
a reach to be descriptive on my part, or at least
not to be redundant.
No,
In order to tell you about it,
I would really need to Stress the details that
got me: That really human kind of **** you know? LIKE:
the expressions on his face, and how closely his step brought him to near freedom—just outside that metal box. Just before it came down hard, and took 50% of the **poor ******* with it.
It was the manner in which he got stuck that pushed me There, and
not traditionally.
Think long-ways.
The exact scenario from my nightmare so far back— with a single deviation. Setting.
Of course, inside my twisted anti-fantasy: it was the antagonist was suffering, also this character I had come to know by name and action.
...Anyway that segment shocked me.
And I don't get shocked that often.
It was a sort of fate that I never actually thought I would observe in person. There is always the stopping point when watching gore online and that was mine.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 2:17 AM UTC
The lift is a truly marvellous creation
It moves people via elevation.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC