Thursday, July 5, 2007


Midshadow in the overtones
The presence of my Escher
Broken dreams on stairwell seams
Holding up the pressure
I think of Plath and Sexton
Their minds and of Kay Sage
Tanguy travels my inner mind
Evading my own rage
Some where in there hides the rest
No need to mention more
I'm kind of jealous of my heroes
Of those that I adore
Written words upon walls
Paint may go where it falls
Pollock would have a fit
To know what still exsists
In a world that makes false claims
Upon stairwells I must resist
Walk amongst the rubble
Try to shift the puzzle
Best to make it anonymous
Lest they use the muzzle
Parables and allegories
Entangled within my words
Metaphors that confuse the whores
The ones who plagiarise my mind
What do they hope to find
Except that to quicken their own selves
They have conveniently become laid back
And placed their minds upon the shelves
In cupboards which are bare
All the way down to the bottom of the spine
However drunken on the finest of wine
In the catacombs that block their throats
Depriving them of original thoughts
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

No comments: