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Of all the hours I laboured
Of all the men I've known
These silent corridors where
mass production was a miniscule
compared to the minds of those whom
worked alongside me deep into the night
The voices still echo from those behemoths
Their belching of smoke and fire
I used to think of Flash Gordon in the furnace room
Prince Baron at his side
While they were busy pitching coal
I was off in another place with Dale Arden
with kisses upon her face
~
Now the silent boilers are my only friends
In these dark corridors that resemble
The corridors of my mind
Of all the men who loved and laughed
Of all the stories told
We fought dragons of fire and talked of
The thoughts in minds and hearts
Our lips spoke of it and the visions were not far away
Of our children and our wives
The happiness in our lives
Even our dogs and houses that had a life of their own
And of what we would do on our days of rest
Working seven days-it was all in gest;
The great dream it still resounds in the echoes
It is fresh upon my mind and deep in my heart
~
There is that shaft of sunlight over there coming through the window
Just as it did before
Even though the sill is shattered and there is no pane
I wonder if that is the same sunlight that was
As I recall the voices of the past
Last time it was Ivan McGregor talking to me
His father at the immigration docks fresh off the ship
Or was it when his son was born into this world
And the night he cried because his mother was sick and dying
I walked him home and sat upon his porch as his dog licked our wounds
The ones on our hands;Not in our hearts you know-
Long gone but not forgotten days
There could be no trade for that which occured
It is my precious jewel that lives within
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
A day on the beach building sandcastles
In the middle of the month of June
My sister was a special person
She always lived her life well and on her own;
Things got deranged-we became estranged
I began my search and found what I was looking for
My sister is still looking for it
Now we don't talk to eachother anymore
Life with the sandcastles was in our innocence
Great castles built upon the beach
I would tell her stories of them and how the knights of bold
Would battle the forces to keep the castle safe
Of the king and the queen who sat on thrones
The open markets in the breeze
Odors of fresh eatables like melons and cheese
And let us not forget bread
Soon the ocean tides would rise and the castle would be dead
I was not a knight and could not keep our castle safe
From the rising ocean tides where the plankton lived
~
When I saw my sister-I saw my mother
They both looked about the same
The way they walked-the way they talked
It was like visitation to the sandcastle once again
If even though in my mind-It was a place easy to find
But alas like those tides and in all that abides
The forces of nature have overcome once again
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
There is a secret I want to tell you
Quiet if you please
Nobody else is supposed to know
I'm the child who sees
Things of beauty and things of love
The resting of a butterfly
Manes of horses that flow with the wind
Beauty that is within my eye
I will tell but you must promise
To keep this in your heart
I will even show you but you must
Promise not to start
Showing it to everyone unless
You feel the need
If you do-your blessing is
You've answered others needs
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
I used to watch her when she was a girl
Little did she know I would ride those rails one day
Through all those small towns with the water towers
How many times would I go by the town I had come from
Without ever letting a soul know about it
I once peeked out of the boxcar and saw people I knew
Then dissapearred like the morning dew
On the outskirts of town I peeked out once again
And saw the lights from the old farmhouse
The place where I was born
A feint silhouette of the weathervane in the backdrop
It looked like a skeleton of what it had been
Sitting all forlorn atop its frame
Then it was passed and the open plains began to roll once again
I am but a wandering man upon the rails
Two cans of tuna and some loose tobacoo in my nap sack
With nothing more to say to the ghosts of my past
This rambling train that goes down the rails
I have more in common with it than I do with people
The alienation is good for my mind at this particular time
As I roll through the towns on my way to another day
Another place in my moment of time
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
It was never meant to go this far;
We met upon a beach at night;
While staring at the morning star;
Amidst the crashing waves I saw;
A never ending horizon within my eye;
Then a voice whispered softly to me;
As I studied the motion of the ocean;
And looked as far as I could see;
I did not want to answer to the vulnerability;
~
Off in the distance was the lighthouse;
It lit the way for ships and men;
I began to walk the sandy beach;
Towards its zen;
~
I happened not to look back at all:
Hoping the soft voice had gone away;
It had followed in spite of my evasion;
With nothing more to say;
There I sat upon the moor that led the stony path;
To the lighthouse on the peninsula;
Out in the ocean of rath;
The soft voice spoke and then I noticed;
Someone had sat down on the rocks;
However meek with a rosy cheek;
Hair so black with rolling locks;
The eyes were hidden amidst the hair;
There was a hint of a smile;
Time had temporarily been suspended;
In the silence and stillness I sat for the while;
Out in the harbor were the shadows of ships;
Brine permeated the brisk ocean air;
As I watched the breeze blow through her hair;
And noticed the blue eyes with their steel grey stare;
I was taken prisoner in my mind;
~
Many phases of the moon passed by;
The ocean tides had rolled their way in stride;
Seashells that wash upon the striations;
Evidence that they have died;
There is this feint calling that is within my heart;
It is the voice that beckons from the darkness;
It is the original prison that held me in my mind;
The road that leads from it is my only hope to find;
There is that pulling and tugging thing going on again;
The one I try to avoid each time it comes knocking on my door;
One heart is wounded so that the other may find its way;
I end up leaving one broken rose with nothing more to say;
~
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Here comes another one of them humans
Don't they know I am trying to sleep
Got some fish at least-want some vomit
Another human to pester me-another creep
What's the big deal about this place
Just water and some boats on a dock
The only thing to do I suppose is fly away
And find another rock
But I like this place and the wood is warm
Guess everything will be alright
As long as they stay over there and out of sight
Like my father always said the way to avoid them
Don't make direct eye contact
And maybe,just maybe they will go away
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
You never miss water til the well runs dry
But I remember the look in dad's eye
When I was young we used to play
I listened as he would say
Words to me that still have meaning
That helped to mold my heart
The walks we took together
And how I would depart
The days that seemed so endless
Little did I know
I would become my own man
Although it happened slow
But dad was always such a part
Of what I did in life
Up or down we both knew our hearts
When we were in strife
This is the first year without him
at Christmas
He is fresh upon my mind
I am greatful for all the memories
And in my heart to find
The words we spoke and all the things
That we have done together
He is my sunshine that I feel each day
Regardless of the weather
In my heart he is still alive
And in my mind as well
I am greatful for my father and know
The water is still in the well
It has not run dry and never will
I feel his presence from moon to sun
He is just around the corner
And the only one
Who came to know me as I did him
My friend from my first day on earth
Thank you dad for all you did
Including my own birth
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
If there were no different shapes
Or different frames of mind
If every flower was a rose
All hope would be lost to find
All trees would be of the same
No variety of the cultures
Everything would be bland
Comatose like ravenous vultures
No point of reference other than their own
All oceans and seas would flow
Into rivers of nothingness
Where stagnation would rampantly grow
~
A bouqet of flowers is a wonderful thing
Lilacs are nothing like roses or an iris
Maples and ferns are not like an Oak
Ivy is not like the wheat in fields
The sun is not like the moon or the stars
Or a harvest of variety that it yields
There is much to be greatful for
Every mind and heart has its own
Every fruit different in taste
Every rock from a different stone
~
Each in its way make its deposit
Upon what is known as its place
To see it ,to feel it ,to know it ,to breathe it
Is to know the meaning of grace
~
~Moses
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
To walk the land in winter snow
Sparkling crystals upon the bark
Footprints of animals all about
A sound of the solitare lark
Windswept drifts that dominate
A landscape blanketed with white
Shadows dancing about
As if they owned the night
Upon the wishes of moonbeams
That caress the frozen stream
Over head a hawk sits atop
A simple stare his eye in a gleam
The slightest movement of a stir
Though it be but a leaf upon a tree
Hanging on in wait for spring
In anticipation upon the wind
For snow to flee
All else is asleep in its claim
With great exception to the owl which hoots
Silent trees with branches in the breeze
Deep are its roots
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Hands of henna you have touched me
I saw your art when you passed your hands
over my face and onto my ears
The eventual glow of your inner flow
Will fade upon my heart
Floral hints of an incadescent proportion
In an outline of fates that end at your fingertips
Talk to me while you are in your flow
And whisper things that take me with you
When you go
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
