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Nothing exists except for my eyes
I sit in the darkness of my soul
Nothing resembles the world I am in
This is the grand wormhole
Out in space where no direction exsists
Not even time resists
There are no words or spoken language
Detachment from even the stars
Where there is no body shackled to me
There can be no exsistence of scars
Pain can neither feel death
For there is no breath
I cannot cry or even die
It is the megadeath
The atomic chain reaction within my mind
Where the clucking is upon the cuckold stool
There can be no genius where there is no fool
Andromeda is far off in the distance
And I may not loose the bands of Orion
Or come to know the morning star
My heart hides in the cluster of Pleiades
I am the concealed one of the seventh star
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Ivory the rat isn't scared of the cat
She'll nip him on the nose
She sleeps in the quilt upon my bed
She is the white primrose
She nibbles on corn and pieces of cheese
If you listen closely she snores
I call her like a dog and she comes scampering
Across my wooden floors
Her sister Ebony hides in my quilt
Until I call her as well
Unless we decide to take a nap
She's the curious madamoiselle
Sometimes they yawn-sometimes they sleep
Both of them snore just a bit
They wait in their cage until I get home
And then it is lickety split
Into their house-they play hide and seek
Until it is time to come out
They want to play by the bars on their cage
And make funny faces with their snout
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
A single flower blooms for me
It tells me life is still worth living
Many roses never bloom
But come back in reliving
Their seed will spread to give instead
Another bulb will thrive
When life is devoid of energy
No hope of yet to revive
A single flower will reveal
Itself in all of life's own zeal
To gaze upon it's gentle petals
Revealing all its beauty
Tears shall flow for thee will know
Nature has its duty
The world turns in strange ways
In many times it brings sad days
Without the sadness there is no joy
And for this it must employ
The single flower shows its power
Upon its gentle gaze
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
He's a big dive bomber
Who flies through the air
Without a moments notice
He will dive
Sometimes you'll find him
Sitting on a pier
Better feed him some minnows
Or he'll give you some jive
Don't mess with that pelican
Old baldy will get you
Sooner or later in the air
Before you know it
He will baptise you properly
The evidence will be in your hair
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
This is death in solitude
Blowing winds by darkened skies
Against a wheat field which thrives
Death is quietly wise
Silent in its own exsistence
It comes not until the time
When it has been called
To mete out its purpose
In the unfamiliar paradigm
Doth it enter the intellect
To have a moment or two
It sits in the minds of all it takes
In retrospect of what it must do
Delivery of what it must
To know death you may trust
Is not a fearful thing to know
When the time has come to go
She will extend her hand so slightly
No spoken words as if to say
I will hold your hand in mine
This journey is my ballet
It merely is a migration
From womb to tomb in lands
Tombs unfold back into wombs
Life always commands
Reciprication of many sorts
Another day will come
A chapter ends-another begins
Rebirth is the total sum
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Even angels cried this day
For he was gifted to the people
Ebeneezer Baptist Church
The place without a steeple
Sweet Auburn where leaves on trees
Seemed to bend their way
Towards the place of the black race
Where the sun shined each day
Spoken words of eloquence
That fell upon deaf ears door
Until there were no more spoken
And then forever more
The dream was seen and realized
A helping hand he gave
Now we take for granted all
His words we do not save
It is merely just a day
In which some recieve their pay
For work that's done under the sun
While some will curse him under their breath
But still take payment in honor of his death
He was the man who had the plan
Bend a knee and bow your head
Is your mind really that dead
He still resides in the hearts of many
It's hard to forget a friend
Just a moment of your time
Of good thoughts you might send
People like that don't happen often
Get your mind on life and out of your coffin
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
"We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly."
The radiator clangs in the middle of the night
The refrigerator hums along
I'm writing words in lucid sleep
Listening to the combos song
Sweet moonlight enters in through the window
A cat meows loudly on the rooftop
At least there are no flies around today
Who try to eavesdrop
Papers on the table from a scribbling whim
Coffee stained a bit with the odor of tobacco
The radio plays stale music
In the middle of this metropolis burough
Sebastian Leone was a good man
Long gone from his place in power
He only appears as a name in memory
No less than a wallflower
A bird in a cage causes a ruckus
It is forgotten most of the day
Except for my voice through the walls
I have nothing else to say
I am the invisible friend of the bird
Who listens for my voice
To break the silence of monotony
There is no other choice
Everything is in a cage of sorts
Even the ideas on tables
Ideas grow stale-principles become frail
Inspiration to go on with the fables
Clattering fists pounding upon my mind
The crowds cannot resist temptation
It is kind of like masturbating buzzards at the door
Who demand that I spend the duration
Invoking spirits to enter my brain
To jump on and then off of the moving train
I want to become a bramblebush
That wanders the praries freely
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Arbeit Macht Frei
The gate with the lie
The place of hell
Where all will die
Whether in body or in mind
It shall claim all who enter
They tried to claim mens souls
The pileage of the great tormentor
The yellow star upon the arm
Until the tattoo ink shall flow
Numbers upon arms of flesh
The masses continue to grow
Decayed flesh that rots in ditches
The Yellow Star still remains
The reminder in times that are kinder
Denial of the truth runs aloof
It tells not of the pains
Destruction of souls in ovens
Shoveled bones in undertones
Silent buildings stand
Where was the killing hand
History tries to remove the scar
Yet remains the Yellow Star!
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Dustfilled shafts of sunlight
Penetrate the rails
In wait for the trains rolling motion
When all else fails
Roaring in the shadows
A recollection of thoughts
In silence upon the platform
Music from the calliope in the distance
It is only music that is meant for my ears
In my weeping of tears
Only I can see what is put before me
In silence I keep the images to myself
Then place them upon the shelf
Into the archives amidst the shafts of sunlight
That permeate the wooden platform
As I wait upon the beast of steel
To roll along the plains
I am destined to be like an uprooted tree
Spreading its branches for all to see
The seasons of my mind
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
