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See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her Periodic Table bonus poem Hydrogen Cyanide live 9/25/13 at the open mic the Café Gallery in Chicago (C)

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her Periodic Table bonus poem Hydrogen Cyanide live 9/25/13 at the open mic the Café Gallery in Chicago (S)

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her “Periodic Table of Poetry” poem Hydrogen Cyanide live in Chicago 10/31/13 at her Poe-Pourri mini-feature

See YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her “Periodic Table” poem Hydrogen Cyanide live in Chicago 10/31/13 at her Poe-Pourri mini-feature (w/ an older film age filter)

See YouTube video 6/24/16 of Janet Kuypers reading 3 Periodic Table poems (that somehow all incorporate the concept somehow of sin), Hydrogen Cyanide, White Phosphorus & Helium Addiction at Georgetown’s Poetry Plus open mic (w/ a Canon Power Shot).

See YouTube video 6/24/16 of Janet Kuypers reading 3 Periodic Table poems (that somehow all incorporate the concept somehow of sin), Hydrogen Cyanide, White Phosphorus & Helium Addiction at Georgetown’s Poetry Plus open mic (this video filmed w/ a Sony camera).

See this YouTube video (posted 7/6/22, a Wednesday like The Café open mic dates) of Janet Kuypers reading her Twitter Verse Periodic Table poems ““Hydrogen Three: Glow for Me”” and “Hydrogen laced with Pi”, then her Periodic Table bonus poem “Hydrogen Cyanide” from the v197 7/22 Down in the Dirt issue/book “History, Banners and Flags” when visiting Chicago 6/23/22 for The Café Gallery Book Reading series (this video was filmed from a Panasonic Lumix 2500 camera; posted on Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Pinterest, Instagram, and Tumblr). #janetkuypers #janetkuyperspoem #janetkuypersbookreading #janetkuypersperiodictablepoem #janetkuypersthecafegallery

See this YouTube video (posted 7/5/22, a Tuesday like The Café Gallery open mic dates) of Janet Kuypers reading her Twitter Verse Periodic Table poems ““Hydrogen Three: Glow for Me”” and “Hydrogen laced with Pi”, then her Periodic Table bonus poem “Hydrogen Cyanide” from the v197 7/22 Down in the Dirt issue/book “History, Banners and Flags” when visiting Chicago 6/23/22 for The Café Gallery Book Reading series (video from a Samsung S9 camera; posted on Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Pinterest, Instagram, and Tumblr). #janetkuypers #janetkuypersbookreading #janetkuyperspoetry #janetkuypersthecafegallery

Enjoy this YouTube video of Janet Kuypers reading her Twitter Verse Periodic Table poems “Hydrogen Three: Glow for Me” and “Hydrogen laced with Pi”, then her Periodic Table poems “Hydrogen Cyanide” and “From Hydrogen to Nothing” from the Down in the Dirt 5-8/22 issue collection book “The Final Frontier” (that also appear in the Janet Kuypers poetry books “Twitter Verse Periodic Table Poetry” and “Periodic Table Poetry”) on 11/2/22 on the 1st Wednesday of the month in honor of ‘Community Poetry’ (filmed from a Panasonic Lumix 2500 camera; on Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Pinterest, Instagram, and Tumblr). This was also filmed fro a Panasonic Lumix 2500 camera & given a Hue Cycling, which was posted on Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, Pinterest, Instagram, and Tumblr). #janetkuypers #janetkuyperspoetry #janetkuypersbookreading #janetkuypersperiodictablepoem #janetkuyperstwitterverseperiodictablepoem

Hydrogen Cyanide Janet Kuypers bonus poem from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#01, H) started 9/5/13, edited 9/19/13 and 9/21/13, finished 9/22/13 He was once a college chemistry professor, so he hoped he was a shoe-in to work with the Waffen-SS. He ended up working at the Rundfunkhaus — a Berlin radio station broadcasting Nazi propaganda. But after his university was bombed, he took what he could get and was grateful for work that didn’t require him to use a gun. But when the Science and Research Department at the Reich Main Security Office gave him orders to go to the Dachau camp to retrieve paperwork, he solemnly went home to pack for his two-day trip, driving there one day, returning home the next. # He’d seen the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, 35 kilometres north of Berlin, but Sachsenhausen was more of a training centre for Schutzstaffel officers before the SS men were sent to oversee other camps. And although Dachau was small, it was essentially the first, and set the standard for all of Hitler’s camps. He felt the tension knot in his stomach grow, even before saying goodbye his wife and two children. # Arriving at the camp the next afternoon, he learned the lieutenant general was away from his office, so he could only get the necessary paperwork the next morning. Which left him alone at the camp, in a stranger’s office. He paced. A part of him didn’t want to go out there, there was safety inside these office walls. Here he could remain separate from the war. # After nearly an hour of pacing, he decided to just go out there. Face it. Get it over with. And when he stepped outside the air felt heavy; he could feel the weight of the move he made, the weight of his legs grew heavier; he dragged his feet, making his way to the open walkway. Although there was that heavy haze in the air, he knew what chemical reactions had occurred to leave that distinct smell in the smoke and haze working it’s way through the air. He saw across the clearing the doors close to the “showers”, so he walked with a determination to bring himself to the hall. He could hear the sounds of people inside grow louder, but he then caught a glimpse of a guard that just made his way to the roof. As he got closer, he watched the soldier open what looked like a can, then shake it into the vent at the centre of the building, before closing the vent and walking across the roof before taking the ladder back down. From the moment anything from that can made it’s way into that building, with every subsequent step he took, he could hear the wails and screams get louder and louder from the Jews inside. He stopped for a moment. Look, he thought, he knew what this was, get used to this, was all he could think to himself to get his heavy feet moving again. He caught the soldier walking down the ladder from the building, and quickened his pace to catch him before he got far from the building. Not able to see the ranking on his uniform shirt, he quickened his pace to not yell for the soldier. With the soldier still holding the jar in his hand, he asked if he could see the can. Once he had it in his hands, he looked at all elements on the label. Zyklon B. Hydrogen Cyanide. He knew this poisonous liquid boiled just above room temperature, so he knew that all they had to do was drop some from a sealed can into the open hall, poisoning thousands in only twenty minutes. He knew the Germans first thought of using this Prussic acid against Napoleon in eighteen thirteen — and if they had, it would have been the first time Hydrogen Cyanide was used in warfare... But look at him now, the chemistry professor, reduced to thinking of how all the Jews inhaled the bitter almond smell of Hydrogen Cyanide, until it combined with their red blood cells, causing death from oxygen starvation. He suddenly felt he needed to take a deep breath, get in all the oxygen he could. He saw the blue stains on the concrete walls, then walked back to the soldier to give him the empty can, when the soldier, making small talk, said “one of the older Jews pleaded to me, ‘I’m a decorated vet from WWI, I was in an artillery battalion, we shot gas shells at the British and Americans, I shouldn’t be here, my paperwork’s with my luggage—’ And they just kept telling him to go into the showers...” And he knew in WWI we shot these shells into trenches in France, so he shrugged and gave a slight grin, to commiserate with the soldier, but he knew that everyone fights their own battles in this war. He was only a lieutenant, a lower-ranking attache than the colonel who sent him on this job, but he still held rank over this soldier, so he told the soldier that once there were no screams inside and they opened the doors to bring everyone to the crematoriums, he wanted to be notified. Then he walked away. At fifty metres he clutched at his pockets to find his cigarettes and lighter; he wanted anything to calm him down and help him focus on anything else until it was time. # He stood in the field, chain smoking, until he heard the running footsteps in the distance. He looked at his pocket watch. Twenty minutes had passed, as he saw a soldier running toward him. He looked at the gas chamber and saw they had opened the doors, so he started his methodical walk back to where he was destined to go. He acknowledged the soldier with a wave, and quickened his pace to the building. He saw a few different soldiers this time, all waiting until the cloud of gas was cleared from the chamber so tey could work. He walked to the doorway. It was dark, but he could make out a pyramid of people toward that small now closed centre vent. From what he could tell, it looked like the Jews tossed the babies and small children toward the top, in an effort to keep the children alive. One of the soldiers passed him as he stared, so he asked him how long he had been doing this. “Nearly a year,” he answered. So he had to ask if doing this, if seeing this, bothered him. The man only answered, “If you do something long enough, you get used to anything.” With that, he nodded slightly, and knew he saw enough. He walked away. # Early the next morning, he came back to the offices at the Dachau concentration camp, so he could get his paperwork as quickly as possible, so he could get out of there as quickly as possible. # The tension knot grew smaller in his stomach the closer he got to his home in that drive, but as he came to his home, he saw his wife sitting outside their home, with all the widows open. Once he got out of the car, he could hear her coughing, sounding more and more hoarse with each gasp. He only wanted to hold her, but concern overtook him as she explained that she just used a pesticide fumigant throughout the house, and she could no longer breathe while inside those walls. He looked to the second floor of the house for the children, and she told him they were each staying the night at friends homes. And suddenly he imagined that fumigant that’s killing the vermin inside their home — Hydrogen Cyanide was now in their home. A form of Zyklon B was now in their home. All she was trying to do was kill the vermin, and he thought of the propaganda ministry he now worked for, telling the nation to believe that the Jews are the rats, the Jews are the vermin. So he looked at their home, and told her they would get out of here tonight, as far as they possibly could. He then held her close before they walked away, holding hands.

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