Lie… steal……… live.

Posted by Erik Moshe on Sunday, August 21, 2011 Under: Poetry


'D’Vardec, my dear boy...'

Bring me my moral compass
Lie down on my stomach
Listen for the warm belly buoys
the rise and fall of my digestive system’s
and it's intestinal nodes

Think yourself a man my age;
your composure like Anthony Hopkin’s eye pools
still and surveying the ants
in the civil obedience breeding grounds
paying their taxes to keep criminals
behind bars and minimal behinds scarred -

A society with a soul derived of ‘only’ the good chemicals.

I worked and tilled the clockwork orange field
until MY hands were mandible-like
I looked like a manual laborer
as far as traditional appearance went;
A nautical engineer who slept with seasalt
under cot pillow to stay organic while on dry land

My intellect scrawling notes hurriedly
in the captain’s quarters, whose barbaric vigor
is better disguised by a Claiborne dress shirt
but I fear, as we all do
a creature beneath the surface,
like a giant urchin that could derail our quest
wrap it’s tentacles around our psyches
squeeze them for what they’re worth
for the Rothschildren
let the inklings spread for future generations
-as desensitization laxatives...

Only the best and the brightest in Gaia will advance
toward the next life test, my son,
& you can choose from what my forefathers left me

A message in a bullet
for the most ordinary people in the world
that the masters of chaos can gather, stack
in strategic position like a terracotta army armed
with claymores, stick men and stone masons
before succumbing to the erosion
of spiritual awakening

In : Poetry 



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