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Vessels that glide are moored in rows;
Under the rainbow sky;
A majestic mountain blanketed;
Under pillowed clouds that fly;
Gusts of wind that rock the moor;
Over the whitecap waves;
Fresh odours of the sea breathing;
In what does a man's soul crave;
To ride upon the tops of sails;
Hunkered down in the crows nest;
The flight of the gulls crossing a path;
A blood red sun peering over the crest;
There is a rich flapping in the canvas;
The water and binding of ropes against wood;
I love to watch the block and tackle;
A reminder that life is good;
There are no words or description;
Replacement is an act in vain;
To need the sea is something natural;
As the moon will wax and wane;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Red walled cavern reflect your mind;
Reveal your total grace;
Lavender slopes that tug at the edges;
In this sacred and solemn place;
Eons went by without a whisper;
Not one mind did even dare to touch;
Your inner beauty that conceals itself;
Deepest thoughts that rely so much;
On pristine slopes and clear cold waters;
That reach beyond to places deep;
A solitary eagle's effortless flight;
It's secret I must keep;
To pass this way and ask myself;
Odd as it all may seem;
Is this real-what I feel;
Is this a hoped for dream;
A place as such-seems to much;
To ask for in a prayer;
It is surreal-what I feel;
And more than I would dare;
To hope for such a thing of beauty;
It brings me joyous tears;
In the bosom of this peace;
Until my ending years;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Childhood memories spent in the grove;
Under the boughs of trees;
Of days gone by where I would laugh;
And feel the touch of each breeze;
The branches seemed like fingers reaching;
Trying to touch my face;
Like they wanted to know how I felt;
O' gentle leaves of silken lace;
Your softness floats along the wind;
A sweet lulling as your branches;
Dancing to and fro;
Soon autumn will come and change it all;
For then shall come the winter snow;
Then there is the wait again;
Until the coming of a new spring;
Then your branches shall once again;
Hear the birds that sing;
I will once again be with you;
And sleep beneath your fingers;
We will watch the sun together;
Recollecing each day that lingers;
~
In the sweet memory:
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Sweet silent moon upon the water;
As I sit here upon the shore;
Are you here for just my pleasure;
It is you that I adore;
You never make the slightest protest;
And you've always let me be;
Whatever it was that I have wanted;
You never seemed displeased with me;
~
We never seem to stay in one place;
For much longer than I need;
Sweet silent moon who's always been there;
That's always been our secret creed;
We never knew eachother's sorrow;
For no words were ever spoke;
We just looked on at eachother;
And took the burdens from our yoke;
~
So down the road we go together;
There you are up in the sky;
You are my friend who's like no other;
In the sweetness of by and by;
Your twinkling crescent is like my mother;
You have that look within your eye;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Demons abound to the smattering of sound;
Hieronymus Bosch is all around;
They crawl in and out like worms in wood;
Habitual pranksters creeping like dogs;
No amount of shock therapy will deter them;
Flesh crawlers who invade thoughts and actions;
Into the frontal lobe until slobbering evil persists;
No matter how much one may resist;
Of every vice that is known to man;
No matter how hard he runs;
His insults to the Origins of Life;
Are minor concerns to the strife;
Actions are of no consequence;
Acceptance is merely a justification;
Responsibility has no ramification;
Stagnated water runs the river dry;
Nobody hears the sounds they cry;
Envy has become the regurgitation of the mind;
Individual forms of life seek out their own kind;
A rodent indeed is a rodent in need;
As life is sucked out of that which has been borne;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Oh, love, why do we argue like this?
I am tired of all your pious talk.
Also, I am tired of all the dead.
They refuse to listen,
so leave them alone.
Take your foot out of the graveyard,
they are busy being dead.
Everyone was always to blame:
the last empty fifth of booze,
the rusty nails and chicken feathers
that stuck in the mud on the back doorstep,
the worms that lived under the cat's ear
and the thin-lipped preacher
who refused to call
except once on a flea-ridden day
when he came scuffing in through the yard
looking for a scapegoat.
I hid in the kitchen under the ragbag.
I refuse to remember the dead.
And the dead are bored with the whole thing.
But you -- you go ahead,
go on, go on back down
into the graveyard,
lie down where you think their faces are;
talk back to your old bad dreams.
i have known love
love was ashes in my mouth
as i wept flame
love was the spear
pulsing down my side
love was the scream
ripping my throat
i have known love
i have known love
love was the sand in my mouth
as i drowned in the desert
love was the splinters
beneath my fingernails
love was the spiders
crawling on my teeth
i have known love
i have known love
love was unripened fruit
sticking to my tongue
love was cotton and silk
clinging to my legs
love was the unseen face
reaching down a hand into my hell
i have known love
People may come and people may go
They make an appearance for many a reason
To fill a need or offer assistance
And when their purpose has been fullfilled
Something is said or is done-
It was good while it lasted
They are no longer a godsend
But have become a burden like a millstone
Others may appear and they may teach
Some may even preach but when
they have done their work its time to go
To take the visions and what was learned
To apply them is the very purpose
And why people may come and go
They have come full circle and clearly
Understand the road is long and true
And there are things they must do
Another person has made request
Its energy has been set into motion
Do not bind them or muzzle them
like an ox that treads out corn
That is not the purpose of their birth
Or the reason why
They freely chose to mingle with the mirth
And know how to say goodbye
Why dont you also know the same-is this a game?
Instead you are laying upon the steps
With your hair in a frenzy
Over something that was not yours to have
A gourd has been placed upon your head
And you are angry for it
Until the worm smites the gourd
And causes it to wither in the wind
All for naught like Jonah concerning Ninevah
You have taken the giant flask
filled with sweet wine and given to you upon the steps
The gift at your request-you dont want it anymore
Now that its been given and its task performed
The flask of sweet wine has been emptied and replaced
You have filled the flask with bitter sorrows
This is the reaction to the requested gift
Now the critics appear to grade the performance
Of an act that is not their own
Thank you's go out to all those who bought a ticket
Please make any changes to the script
Until the fiber from my remaining soul has been stripped
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
My mask hides my face;
It cloaks my mind well;
Nobody can see my place in hell;
I was there but fled and am gone;
Down that old railroad track;
I'll never let my heart feel defeat;
I'm gone and I'll never look back;
People of flesh are like chapters in a book;
I observed the twisting of their minds;
Down in the delerium of a vortex in motion;
On a road that constantly winds;
The drama unfolds in a never ending story;
Where words begin sounding the same;
Manipulation if you let it in your soul;
In someone else's mind like a game;
What is trust but an image on a wall;
In likeness to an old castle painting;
A frontal lobe that encircles a globe;
Then comes a suggestion of the fear and the fainting;
Words that have fallen upon deaf ears and minds;
Like an animal I am cornered in a trap;
Their image in an eye makes you want to die;
Upon a windowsill comes a faint rap;
At an unrelenting pace-what they throw up in your face;
A slap is sent towards the mask;
That is the end result of their intended task;
Like a clay toy if you let them in;
They fondle your anatomy and try to make you part of their sin;
On the friendly face is the sign of disgrace;
I am are thrown to the side to drown in the tide;
As they move on to their next victim upon the wind;
To tell a story of how they sinned;
It is a story told many times;
Of envisioned crimes;
In the background is the cuckold's laugh;
And you are but a mark upon the graph;
The winds blow in many directions;javascript:void(0)
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But you can be sure to avoid their path;
In the light of their engulfing and sickening rath;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Call me for dinner when its ready
Did my son mow the lawn
I know you have a life of your own
But how long will you be gone
I'm busy now can't you see
What am I doing-I'm thinking
About my degree
I don't have to work-I got my degree
What I know is what I know
In theory I have it in my head
Wake me for dinner unless you are dead
If that is the case then you have my permission
To let someone else do it for you
Just make sure my dinner is done
And that the lawn has been mowed too
Can you let the neighbor know where I am
Just in case your not here
I'm all prepared if you happen to expire
Including my artificial tear
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
