Wednesday, June 27, 2007

"Conceal the Meaning"

The persona of its cynosure
Equidistance is reachable
Therefore I can attain what it offers
Though it asks for nothing in return
Expecations are still presented
Upon its form are signs
Plainly understood and accepted
Its barriers remain enclosed
Only brief moments are shown
Projections to be pondered upon
Before speaking of things meant
For eventual exposure
Chosen ears and eyes remain ready
Willing to accept the variables
Of things written upon walls
When plaster is placed over them
The chosen eyes will still see

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Special Dance"

Upon the wall she remains
We danced the tango all night
With her crimson dress about me
She glided gracefully along
Taking the lead without notice
No gasps were heard from the crowd
And had they noticed
She would not have been prevented
In her zeal to show me the steps
It's not about winning
Or who is better
It's about the invention of self
Traveling down a dark corridor
When a hand reaches out to assist
Who am I to refuse
Buried within the mist
Pull me out of the fog O'hand
Take me to the place of music
Let us dance in front of
Gasping crowds who do not understand
As long as I lean forward
Willing to cross the land
I don't care who takes the lead
So let me have your hand

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Wandering Mind":

What is the lady thinking as she looks out the window
Does she see a cloud in the sky that looks like something
What kind of places does her mind go to
Maybe she is restless or angry about something
Doesn't she know that when she looks at the stars and the moon
That there is no distance between that separates others
Who also look at the same thing
Her eyes can see
But can she fly
Where does she fly to if she can
Where would she fly to if she cannot
Still her voice is silent
Will she allow me in
Or if not will she allow anyone entrance
This is the paradox that has been set
In mystery she gazes out the window
Leaving all in wonder
In the presence of a glaring moon

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Final Phase"

In my death throes
You kill me with your silence
Your body covers me
I am in total darkness with you
Life is sucked away from me
Yet you remain silent
Oblivious to my pain
Yet you cannot speak
You can feel me in your presence
Inescapable yet you leave me in abandon
Chained to myself
As you are chained to me
You bathe me but you are unwilling
Fear is in your voice
But it is not within your mind
Will you let me die without hearing
Or will you reach down into your broken heart
Presenting me with some token to take with me
On my long journey homeward
I have ingested deadly Oleander
But that is good enough for me
As long as your whispers are in my ear
Always resting across my lips

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Personal Secrets"

There is no rest with this woman
I don't sleep in much when at home
Her pet bulldog doesn't like me that much
My job is 2600 miles away
This is like a hop and a skip away
At any time she might show up
She won't let me be lazy
Cheating on her
Who in their right mind would
She is good to me
But she loves her camera more
Every three months I go home
But I send money home every week
Guess I need to be motivated
That scowl on her face
It is only on the outside
Inside there is a tender heart
But I don't let anyone know it
I'm sort of selfish when it comes to
Precious things which mean alot to me
So I tell the stories about her
And let them believe she is a mean woman
There is no other like her
It is that secret heart she has
It is that place in her mind that caresses me
Her words dance into my ears
They stay imprinted in my mind
She is the unique gift sent to me
By something greater than I
Although I believe in all she is
I will not let others know
If she dies in my heart
My heart will die as well
The bulldog really likes me
I don't want to be 2600 miles from home
I die a thousand deaths each night
Because I cannot hear her voice
Her soul haunts me
Her lips taunt me
I'm saying this to myself
Because I cannot let anyone know
This treasure is my secret refuge
Where I go to rest my head
And really I sleep in when I go home
And really I make her take long naps
With me and the bulldog in our bed

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Stalks of Wheat"

Consumed in the fields of wheat
In slumber concealed
Miniscule regions revealed
Only high flying birds can detect
In these fields of wheat that sway
Accordingly the winds direction
Determines the course of the flow
These stalks will serve as bread
To feed the living dead
But not before I have endeavored
To dream upon it in my sleep
Until then the wheat will keep
It will remain silent and accept
My presence as if though
A strange growth of chaff
That thrives within the wheat
Waling about to and fro
Seeking whom it may devour

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved