Thursday, July 30, 2009

"Approaching Friend"

It first began out of curiosity
Watching them strut in the sand each day
They never seemed to say very much
In their own peculiar way
Then one day this crow shows up
Seems like he wants new friends
Three gulls walking in silence
With an outsider who pretends
Each day goes by
This odd procession
In the distance of crashing waves
Will they accept him into their circle
To satisfy what he craves

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

"In The Doghouse"

You ate all the cookies
Except the last one
And smoked my last cigarette
Yes I am angry
I will hide a box of cookies
In my glovebox
Cigarettes will be plentiful
They will be stashed
In the garage somewhere
From now on eat your own cookies
Smoke your own cigarettes
Let me wash the dishes for you
Empty the garbage
Mow the lawn and put gas in your car
I want to make life easier for you
But you cross the line
When you eat all the cookies
And smoke all of my cigarettes
I like your mother
Don't worry
Everything else is fine

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"What Pours From Fire"

Tumbling rhythms about in my brain
Octaves smoking in constant dilemma
Notes that play amongst tinkling cymbals
All arriving at the piano's feet
Yet I can feel that down home beat
Like it used to be in New Orleans
Where I stood on the corner and listened
In my torn blue jeans
Down in New Orleans
Where the music was sweet
How it caressed my ears and brought me to tears
Quenching my desires
In my self inflicted pain
And the tears
Yes the tears which flowed
When nobody was looking
Or sometimes they were
But I didn't care
The energy and the spirit
That flowed in the street
How my heart was captured
In the pounding of those notes
In spite of the demons
Or the evil that gloats
Upon my shoulder as I witnessed
The smoking piano that blared out the songs
Making all of the rights in my life
The opposite of wrongs
Sweet smelling incense mixed with familiar body odors
Smiling faces with piercing teeth
Enveloping me and expelling my grief
In the dust kicked up by scuffling feet
All part of the deep down beat
Whores and drunkards alike
All my friends
As I smoke my Picayune cigarettes
In the middle of the street
Of which I am part of to this day
No escape from the parade
Like the smoke that pours from the stacks
Down by the railroad tracks
At crossroads where I flee to in my escape
Cobblestone streets reaching
Preventing my departure
All within its nature
With no real nomenclature
It sucks me back in to where I began
When I first ran
To the arms of the freight train
In the rain
I slipped on the tracks
Trying to get in
The boxcar made of wood and tin
Where hobos reclined
Rolling cigarettes and eating cans of beans
Heinz vegetarian beans
I remember-the 27th of December
1965 when I made my escape
It was the year of the death of Martin Luther King
Not much to sing about that year
Feeling the pull from New Orleans
Where I would eventually stand
In my torn blue jeans
Offering myself up to the crowds
Who mourned in the streets
Wearing their shrouds

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

"Deserted Mask"

Discarded mask of the Mardi Gras
Trampled as the parade goes by
Mixed with conglomerations of many things
Barely a moment in time in the sky
Hooping and hollering and last hurrahs
Confetti that slowly dies upon the streets
The spirit still survives within the mask
As surely as the heart which beats
It searches for its host although departed
Desertion occured after its use
After brief contemplation the spirit departs
For yet it is back on the loose
Seeking out for what it must obtain
A human beating heart
Looking to become as if in one
Though it knows deep down that it must depart
Wandering in wanton to meet its needs
In places chosen by random
Two distinct forms that exist in time
That shall never run coherently in tandem


© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

"Flim Flam Man"

He's the flim flam man
Who never quite straightens his tie
Meaningless words expel from his mouth
While he watches your insides die
He will sell you his line of worthless goods
With line after line of smark cracks
His story is good-he's rehearsed it enough
Making up for the class that he lacks
He can be found at the gambling tables
Or in houses of ill repute
Although his concept of the world is warped
At his craft he is quite astute
Then in an instant he is gone as quickly
As when he first appeared
The man who talks out of both sides of his mouth
Amongst the crowds that jeered


"Wild Child"

In stealth she waits
On the railroad track
Rustling leaves on autumn days
A sun which conceals itself
Behind deathly ill cloud formations
Of blackened swirling haze
Her staff planted firmly
Upon the scorched earth
Hair that was once flowing
Is now a tangled mass
Her stench repels all of life
Until she is desired no more
Her heart only beats
To keep the beast inside alive
Tainted with fear
The morning dew clings to her
In recompense she tears wildly
Into the sacks of food left for her
Glancing at me momentarily
In my departure
With no thought of approach
Until the next return
When I approach
On darkened autumn days

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved


Waiting for you for what seems
An eternity in time
Days turn into weeks
Like seasons that have gone by
Shedding tears on the inside
My heart breaks at the thought
Of never seeing you again
Pictures upon the wall
My own hand caresses me
Imagining with anticipation
My life is on hold
There is no more energy to expend
So I wait patiently
In the dead silence
For your return
Until then I cannot feel
The earth beneath my feet

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Friday, July 24, 2009


As a child I thought them to be flowers
Growing in multitudes in the back yard
When they had expired in their beauty
Dispersion coming when the wind blew hard
Making necklaces and crowns for my mother
Out in the morning sun
She told me dandelions were just weeds
My illusion in downward spiral was spun
Dead silence upon that revelation
Beauty gone from impressions in my mind
Nevermore to make a necklace
Acceptance within my head began to grind
Destruction of the crown I had just made
Mere lowly weeds-not in my mothers hair
A dark day where birds no longer sang
In the memory of what I must bare
I just wanted to lay down in my room
There I remained until my father came home
I stared at the ceiling beyond my horizon
Wandering to the sound of my metronome
Its somber pace brought me to a calm
As it had done in times before
I never noticed the form of my father
Who watched me from my bedroom door
Knowing the magnitude of my reality
Like a child whose toys had stopped talking
Reminding me of the dandelions dispersion
Causing multitudes to grow
The realization of creation
And the right of a child to know
The joy of making a crown for their mother
Believing them to only be flowers
Spent days in the warm sun laughing
Beyond all earthly powers
A time to be remembered
When innocence performed its miracle
In remembrance of its effect on me
Now seems to be almost satirical
They are looked upon with sympathy
For what must be endured to the ends
When their pods are sent into the air
Prisoners to the way the current bends
It is a lovely thing for a dandelion
To be used in such a way
Of crowns and necklaces for a mother
In the innocence of a passing day

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Thursday, July 23, 2009

"Flower Power"

Waiting amongst the daffodils
Until you arrive
To kiss me upon my face
Such flowers are merely
A distraction to me
In this magical place
Closing my eyes for a single moment
Brings me visions
Of sugar plum faeries
On incandescent daffodils
In changing light that varies
Occasionally the dragonfly visits
While I listen to the songs birds sing
Gentle winds blowing
Through boughs of trees
As I float upon the wing
Of an imaginary bird in the air
It's heartbeat increases with every stroke
Such words upon my lips
That only you can invoke
In the sweet by and by
Of an inner melody
That skips along gently
Within my mind
Elusively fading into the fog
Wanting you to find
That dream in which we both desire
Within the inner fire
Its gentle pulling
Like the lull of the ocean
To and fro
In the slow motion
Come to me quickly as I lay
Amongst the flowers
Dreaming of you
In the silence of powers
Beyond my control and all that it seems
Upon this ocean within my mind

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

"Cutie Pie"

He's just a Dorito thieving seagull
Who hangs out at the grocery store
Those who offer him bread or nuts
Find out he wants nothing more
Nacho Cheese Doritos
He knows the difference from Ranch
But once in awhile he takes two bags
One for the sparrows on the branch
People cheer him
Other birds rally him on as well
It's in their best interest after all
It's a free meal so what the hell
Yep he's a cutie pie alright
He knows it's funny to people
Watching him steal Nacho Cheese Doritos
Before he flies off
To a nearby church steeple

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

"Nonchalant Visitation"

My mother and I used to observe
As a child in our garden we watched
Butterflies who gently fluttered
On graceful wings upon flowers
Sometimes resting upon rocks
She used to tell me stories
That they were really fairies disguised
It was not until many years later
That I finally realized
When I carried her to her final place
Taking notice of their presence
By chance upon a visit
A butterfly rested upon her stone
It seemed as if waiting
For me to show
Momentarily it took flight
To a nearby bridge by a pond
When I sat by the water
There it lighted
Close to my hand
As though it took me
To a secret land
There it rested with folded wings
In the distance
A bluebird sings
Then it was gone as quickly
As it had appeared
My eyes teared
In remembrance of
Past memories
By chance they seem to come
And go in my life
Now I strongly suspect
She secretly visits
Upon her shoulder rests
The shoulder of my wife
This gentle butterfly
Which seemed as if waiting
For me to show
Before it took flight
To such other places
It must go

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Monday, July 20, 2009

"Rhythm of the Rails"

As I ride the rails into the fog
Under a rising sun
As if dissapearing into the abyss
Before the day is done
The constant rhythm of grinding wheels
Brings peace that's hard to find
In the cool breeze upon my face
That slowly enters my mind
In high altitudes the sky roars
Barely perceptible as quiet thunder
In my heart of hearts of which I feel
Cannot be put asunder
The city is far behind
People are on my mind
I realize for all their differences
For everyone I may find
The world with it's people
Regardless of distance
Are a giant bouquet of different species
In constant resistance
Each one speaks out as an individual
Their character in spite of the flaws
Making them unique in so many ways
In spite of man made laws
Outer beauty has never impressed me
It's been my constant desire
For what resides inside each thing
That speaks like flickering fire
The gathering of observations
Lasting impressions collected along the way
Keeping me company as I ride the rails
Throughout the long cool day
Slumbering on the bales of straw
The towns pass quickly by
Always observing from a safe distance
So as not to get in the way
I dissapear into the fog
With nothing more to say

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Sunday, July 19, 2009

"Patiently Waiting"

She waits quietly by the window
Anticipating the expected arrival
The sun shines brightly
Serving as a brief distraction
It's warmth radiates
Yet it is no replacement
For what she awaits
People dot the sidewalk below
Although the movement intrigues
It is of no consequence
For the feeling of emptiness
Upon the windowsill
She quietly waits
For the flicker of the flame
As her companion arrives
She is the gentle cat
Who longs to sleep alongside
That which gives her peace
Until the morning once again comes

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Saturday, July 18, 2009

"Upon the Rooftop"

Howling hooter who clings to the tower
Television sets radiate
Radios blare
In a world where
Nobody ever seems to really care
Peaceful endeavors are rarely seen
In those hearts that bleed
Found wanting in such places
Where particular people seem to gather
For they would much rather
Stare at the hooter upon the rooftop
Refusing to acknowlege his presence
Ignoring his noisemaking
Unto them he has no more importance
Than a gargoyle
Yet in my own observance
His wings cause me to take notice
Thinking of his ability in the calm
If someone just took the time
To approach in a humble way
His outlandish scream
The look in his eyes
Beyond all that seems to be
A misunderstood character
In his frustration to communicate
He is only looking
Hope in his heart thrives
For the one who can bring him peace

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Thursday, July 9, 2009

"Stolen Companion"

Lambchop used to sit on my shelf
Then one day he was missing
The little critter was sort of cute
Cute enough for kissing
Little did I know he had taken up residence
With Mr.Perkins my cat
Pudgy Perkins but I call him mister
Took Lambchop just like that
There they were sleeping together
Perhaps he had been counting sheep
He only got to count up to one
Then he fell fast asleep
I won't deny him my friend Lambchop
Mr.Perkins doesn't ask for much
They look pretty good sleeping together
Two peas in a pod as such

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

"Elephant Herd"

Tending to my heard is really no task
I enjoy their company so
In such quiet times they seem to speak
Silently as they grow
Each one has its own name
Its own particular mood as well
But under the sun they are as one
Which makes my heart swell
Neighbors enjoy them
Kids want to feed them peanuts
They sometimes leave gifts at their feet
Don't know who they are
Because everyone is so discreet
When its time to water my lawn
I imagine their trunks in a sway
Beckoning to me for cool fresh water
In which they can bathe and play
Perhaps a stork or two might stop
If they spotted my clandestine herd
Once a cat took a nap at their side
It contentedly stayed there and purred
It gives me great pride
To know my creation has done much
Thats why tending to my herd is no trouble
For each heart my herd may touch

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

Saturday, July 4, 2009

"Whispering Winds"

I just want to go home to the fields
To lay in the wheat with my dog
On cool nights under the moon
Where the wind can be heard
Through the fog
Familiar voices of the owls
A kit is heard calling its mother
Space is just a dimension in time
To be filled until comes another
Crickets who chirp in serenade
A lullaby that puts me to sleep
Hanging limbs of trees by the roadside
Who seem ready to weep
My dog glances over at me
In the unspoken language
With a somber look in his eyes
Out in the wheatfield with one another
Far from a city that cries
In likeness to sounding brass
The tinkling of cymbals
A rasping rythm of tambourines
Far in the distance is the cry of the city
Not able to penetrate what gleams
These fields will keep me safe
Insulated from the drama of rath
In this field with my quiet companion
Free to walk my own path

© 2004 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved