Saturday, May 5, 2007

"Ghostly Shadow"

Acutely aware of the shadow
Quickly making haste
Cruel kindness of its memory
Haunting but caressing me so
Allowing it to touch me
My sighted blindness
Apparent in its evasion
Allusions of love
But I am not quite sure
Its delusion is an allegory
The eidolon blunders in chaos
My desire to capture her lonliness
Is a fallacy well known
Her heart belongs to loving kindess
I have no right to claim for my own
The verity of my situation
The shadow within the recess
Of the alcove in my mind
Merely the shadow upon the wall
Secluded in its own safety
In rememberance of this
I keep my visions to myself as my own

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Blind Beggar"

A man brought me coffee
Early this morning
Also a muffin to eat
Hunger pangs overcame me
Last night I heard my stomach growl
Shadows on the brick wall
Began to scowl
They danced all evening on my brain
Refusing to refrain
Their behavior despicable
Moreso than the people on the street
Most have been kind I have come to find
Knowing that I am blind
Has probably helped in many ways
Oh I was offered shelter many times
Trouble is I feel confined
Not the way I want to die as well
I'll trade the comfort of a soft bed any day
For the crisp sound in the street
The loud bell that sounds in my mouth
People hear it who know me
Strangers hear it for what its worth
In this world of mirth
In the mire of the amusement
Their contemtible behavior is acceptable
What-without them I would never know
Where the battle lines are drawn
Between good and evil
Thankfully there is more good born
Which greets me every morn
Its boundaries unfold into my darkness
Carrying me farther than I ever dreamed

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Here I Am"

Thinking about me?
I am under your shoe as we speak
When I leave this world do not look for me
I will be there in the dust;
If you must
Try not to think of me
When you are at the rivers edge
I am there as well
Along with your forebearers
In the streets of Bombay
On top of the head of the Sacred Cow
When its tail swats at the flies
You will well remember me
I am the fly who always gets away
The others who have fallen
Are novices at what I do

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved


Sweet eyes of my father
In my own eyes I can see
The vision of the ancient Cherokees.
Sweet sacred inspiration
That he passes on down to me,
Heartbeat of the gentle Cherokee.
And I heard him say...
That's just the way love is
When love is bliss.

And we will walk the mighty circle
Double cross the hands of time.
Laugh and we'll cry as egos die
Until we get to the other side
Put on our wings and fly.

The soul of sweet forgiveness
Walks his path with dignity.
With the wisdom of
The ancient living Cherokee
I come from his deep water
As much like him as I can be.
And I carry to my own children
The promise of the Cherokee.
And I heard him pray...
That everywhere God is
Let freedom live.

And we will walk that sacred circle
Double cross the hands of time
As nations die and hearts unite
Til we get to the other side
Put on our wings and fly
Song of Monolah
Sing of Mother earth
Let every man live free
Let every voice be heard
Let every child be born
Knowing the way.

And we will walk that sacred circle
Join our hands across all time.
Living in peace we believe
We're gonna get to the other side.
We're going to put on our wings and fly
When we get to the other side.
Join our voices across the sky
Til we get to the other side.

We're gonna wear our Cherokee pride
When we get to the other side.
We're gonna leave this world behind
When we get to the other side.
We're going to put on our wings and fly
When we get to the other side.
Join our voices across the sky
Til we get to the other side.
We're gonna wear our Cherokee pride
Til we get to the other side.

We're gonna leave this world behind
When we get to the other side.
We're going to put on our wings and fly
When we get to the other side.
Join our voices across the sky
Til we get to the other side.
We're gonna wear our Cherokee pride
Til we get to the other side.



Rotting meat has its advantages
Unless it is liver
In the orphanage where I grew up
Liver was not consumed by the chosen few
In its raw form it became to some
Within the precipice of the mattress
Soon thereafter flies would lay their eggs
Forming maggots upon the floor
Protesting voices like Portnoy's Complaint
Not I the culprits exclaim emphatically
As for myself my preoccupation was tobacco
Camel cigarettes had alot of meaning to me
But still I knew about the rotting smell
Meat upon meat in the middle of the night
To the sound of the springs that squeak
Clanging radiators drown out their sound
In the wintertime when it is cold
I am bitter with resentment
Warm weather silences the radiators
And the smell of ejaculation is upon my nostrils
Once again-
Institutional tiles on the floor
No longer reminders of the chess board
It is the place where maggots congregate
When flies seek out the smell of rotten meat
There I sit upon the sill in my room
Looking out into summer time
Waiting for winters gloom
I walk away from the vortex of delerium
Leaving those behind who walk into the spiral of light
I am a shadow who observes from a distance
Amidst the souls who clamber towards the top
Like insects who are drawn into the light

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved


Shadows at play can only touch
Memories observed in the mind
Remaining long after their presence
Wherein they may hope to find
Similar shadows to make acquaintance
Brief encounters seem to imbue
Upon my bench I search for them
Blending in as I do
On my bench a squirrel visits me
Is he trying to get into my head
I think not his interests are simple
He wants a piece of my bread
Little does he know it is already his
His curiosity makes my heart leap
Momentarily his company is noted
Along with the shadows I will keep
Two lovers kiss on the hopscotch sidewalk
Small tornado like winds kick up
Leaves with debri around them
Spinning randomly as if to say
We are glad to see you here today
And what of the man who sits on the bench
He is entertaining an aging squirrel
Might we come closer a bit
To give them an extra twirl
Yet we are in attendance of these shadows
Here we will remain for our time
We are the narrators of gestures
In mocking shadows that mime

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Hobo Blues"

I got the mainstreet hobo blues
Down there in the leaves that blow
Upon my bench once again
In that place that only I know
I'm down on my knees
Almost to the point of the
Madman's blues
Having overpaid my dues
Serves me right to suffer
On the big road going
Paychecks small in between
Walked all night long
Into the rain that is now gone
Trying to find the light
Its alright though-its alright
Been down on my knees and my luck before
Comes with the territory
I aint goin' down the road by myself
Got what's inside of me
The clothes on my back
I'm soon headed for the railroad track
Talkin' to myself
Tryin' to find somebody else
Someone named me
That's why I'm talkin' to myself
I walked-I talked to who else could it be
My dimples are cute but I'm face to face
With nobody else but me
My name is wanton wanderer
Lovin' things in my own way
I love to see the people walk
Children who play in the park
Dogs who bark
I've seen the devil in the dark
Down on my knees
Sitting on another one of my benches
Down in the lonely park
A rolling stone gathers no moss
I aint got no boss
Just me

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved


From whence it came
It now returns
Silent in its journey
As it has always been
Everything that occured
Still within its intellect
Now lost to the ages
Signifying another birth
It leaves behind a legacy
The only portion to signal
That it was ever there
Weepings upon the earth
Mourn not It's loss
Still walking near the cool streams
In the meadows and in the dew
The nervous hare is calmed
Quietly it basks in the sun
Unaware that it has company
It resides next to him
Silently observing the way he breathes
He is safe and alone
But so is that secret presence
It is allowed to look even closer
This is the great reward that awaits

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Bestowed Desire"

Death's peace no longer evades me
Men shall look upon me for the last time
Before my decay repels them
I was last touched before my lovers demise
Desire no longer within me
A blackened sun offered no solace to me
Cold Ivy in my garden crawled on my skin
Its vines choke my heart
Stealing my breath that I bestowed
Upon my lovers ear
This morning when I woke;
The song of the bird was cherished
For the last time it graced my ear
It's voice called out to me
A single tear formed in my eye
But there it remained
Unable to venture any further on its own
Those things that are within me
Unable to go forth any longer
My last sight as it faded from me
Was the sweet light of the sun
It turned back to light
No longer blackened and able
It brings me solace and the ivy does not crawl
Once again I dream of my breath
Upon my lovers ear
As I kiss his locks of hair that are
Within my entwined fingers
Laying there silently watching him sleep

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Urban Legends"

Blood stained corner of the walls
The jackpot rabbit verily falls
Urban legends fail to amuse
This addict of carrots dies well
Now he knows the difference
Between the fields of hell
My jazz listening pet rats
Know what the beat is about
They click their fingers
Tap to the music
Unable to protest or shout
They eat their fill
Not willing to risk
Their guts being blown
Against the wall
Like the martyred hare
Sweet jazz rolls from the radio
Into their ears and out to the street
Where innocent souls meet
As they bear witness
To the fallen hero of urban legends

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Buried Treasure"

His hatred of love
His love of hatred
Caused the words to flee
Gingerly they remained
Sensing his quaint understanding
This failed poet became obsolete
His muse now within himself
The tombstones behind him
Observe what entails his mind
Slanted views of surroundings
Imperiled within that whirlpool
Its visible mass of fire and flame
The cirque envelops him
As the steel walled glaciation
Within its bowl the water at the base
Slowly drowns him
Yet his twitching fingers will not
Reach out for help
He dies within the meanings
Ecclesiastes envelops him
Ants will feast upon his eyes
The energy escapes his brain
Unborn words float worthless
In the sea of inebriation
His gift to the world is folded
Placed neatly in its place
Foundering in the deep waters
It is sunken treasure
Waiting for reclaim to those who seek it
Search for the dead man's chest

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Silent Friends"

The corridors are quiet
Footsteps cease upon the carpet
The hare dons his gloves in silence
Preparing to take on the feline
As it observes the mad rabbit
Spectators have been milling around
In the museum all day
Now there are only the guards
Who momentarily interupt
See my shadow upon the wall
He states to his feline friend
The artist who carved out your image
Never thought of any of this
Let us shadow box in the moonlight
We shall get our exersize in spite of them
We will talk throughout the night
Staring at eachother by day
When we have disagreements
We shadow box
Even if we dont have disagreements
We shadow box
We wag our tails at eachother a bit
Then lay down and take a nap together
This makes it all worthwhile
Keeping the secrets we share

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved


I emerge from the dark forest
Not wanting to wear out my welcome
This is done while the world slumbers
The odds are if played by the numbers
Nobody will notice my presence
When I sit upon my wall
The ladder is concealed
Otherwise it would be gone
Since I am no climber of sorts
Scaling my own wall would be a task
One that might not play itself out
Safety is the first concern
It is not the fall from the wall
It is in my journey from the darkness
Into the light
Anonimity must be maintained
Blending in with my surroundings
Remaining invisible
Inaccessibility and mum are the words
If I am not quiet I will be discovered
Human obstacles will be placed in my way
Chaos and drama will impose upon me
Preventing me from my purpose
Once deprived there is no way to regain
I have been stopped now
And must focus on the pain
Those who wish to assist
Must first learn to let the wind pass freely
Once they learn how not to touch
Possibilities abound
From below on the ground
Until then you cannot see me
In am invisible upon my wall
Until I decide to journey from light
Back into the forest of darkness for a spell
If you miss me then
It will be until the next time I journey
Once again from the inner sanctum of the forest
To once again sit upon my wall

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved


The fountain of love
With its water flow
My hands folded into my lap
I have come to know
The many people who walk by
Mothers with children
Grandmothers who cry
Dogs on a walk
Buses go by,kids who use chalk
Drawing a hopscotch pattern
They play in the park
Today I met a lady who binds old books
I imagined her clearing away the dust
From what thought did the author begin
What did they go through to get to the flow
These are things I would never know
Who had picked up this book and read
Chances are they were all dead
Being as the book was 80 years old
The young lady of fair complexion
Looked off in the general direction
Observing the people at the fountain
She seemed beside herself
Like she was upon a floral mountain
Then turning to me in my silence
She explained
I fix the bindings of books
Resurecting authors
Their words are all that has remained
Of that spark of life within them
That once lived in its role
Reviving them is like observing
A part of their giving soul
A forgotten book in decay
Is like watching life ebb away
I was glad I had come to the park
The sound of the water at the fountain
The laughter of children in the distance
A chance meeting with someone
Who had given me
Words of wisdom to take home
Where I could place them upon my mantle
Returning to those thoughts
On cold lonely evenings
When all is silent
Old books revived bring forth new vision
In a fountain that never knows of droughts

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved