Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Play the 45 Soul

Play the 45

singing through wires
surprise spirits
leaped into bed
rioting between sheets
calling of Barnabas
the shadow in dark

left stark a stare
strange sacrifice
fell asleep
no memory
woke up
in Forest Hills

mirrored walls
blue door
black silk beneath bottoms
a line of exotic shoes
snakes, gators
mohair and his leopard underwear

singing "promise that you'll wait"
holding a glass of Muskatel
"it will go down swell'
player roll old soul on 45
stereophonic sound

sealed seventies luxuries
so said
tried to snuggle inside a place
pledge godly
promise to another

he promises to wait
this time
letting passion sleep
if only tonight


© 2010 Lepadah

. capitol records



From: trkyounger (trkyounger)
Last Visit: 4:26 PM

To: lepadahxxx



...great piece of writing.

Your book is going to be great.

This reads like a Shange.

peace

Obatala

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New comment:
| Author: Ravenshakti
| Title: You Rock Lepadah!

5

You got me with this one…


Your first stanza pulled me in- and wouldn’t let go…
Which is good, because after reading the entire poem;
I’m gratefully blown away!


This is the only way I can say it.


So there it is…exquisite, is the word.


Gentle regards,


Raven


“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”


-Michelangelo

Members comments:

+ liked the style
Diana Todea
[05.Aug.10 15:15]
I see here a new style of writing emerging in you with rich images. Maybe it's old you know it better, but I liked what you did here. Hope to see more of your poems. Cheers, Diana.
= Comment
Lydia Percy
[05.Aug.10 18:25]
Hello Diana,

Thank you for the read I am glad you enjoyed this piece.

Peace L
+ Loved this one too-
John Willy Kopperud
[05.Aug.10 18:46]
-and that soul on 45 fits so nicely in with the other images! One title from the sixties (I think that track was with Aretha Franklin) comes to mind: "Midnight train to Georgia."
Cheers from Willy

Diana Todea
[05.Aug.10 15:15]
I see here a new style of writing emerging in you with rich images. Maybe it's old you know it better, but I liked what you did here. Hope to see more of your poems. Cheers, Diana.
= Comment
Lydia Percy
[05.Aug.10 18:25]
Hello Diana,

Thank you for the read I am glad you enjoyed this piece.

Peace L
+ Loved this one too-
John Willy Kopperud
[05.Aug.10 18:46]
-and that soul on 45 fits so nicely in with the other images! One title from the sixties (I think that track was with Aretha Franklin) comes to mind: "Midnight train to Georgia."
Cheers from Willy
= .
Corina Gina Papouis
[10.Aug.10 14:33]
i shall join my previous commentators complementing you on this vivid and accelerating style, this poem came to me like a biography...(last stanza a typo! either promised/ or promises)
Cheers from me too!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Bedlam Adventures and the Blessing

"All the way
many miles
under the guise of a New York sky."

waiting, thinking, wanting
a drink
urgency to quell thirst
thirsty

sitting a crowd
everything hot
mind, body and soul bush
ass edge tight to seat

echo weekend
four loads full Chicago
one day
my way

still waiting figuring
the power of x to y
y is to x
break it down now

like night a burden to light
trying to see
where to fit in
jumping double dutch thru a sea of people

four mates
three Rikers one Green assemble
to sing prison songs

flossing color tee's
standard convict convo
fist bumping
shoulder tag side
high five
taking the same ride

dazed and fazed
dying to be bless
please beg of thee
praying him plant in the garden in need

criss crossing thighs
twist turn a return
ticket one way
so many miles away

to the smell hemp
waiting to be spread
on the lacuna into embouchure
to fulfill
the quell

our final summit


© 2010 Lepadah

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Forgive the Tear

No drops of blood
a clear tear on the heart
heart a tear
shredded shed of tragedy
forgive a cry
every once in awhile
eyes hide hehind
shades of glass
Jeremiah weed compensate
for a drunk heart
is free to breathe
for it has forgotten to feel
armed casing in steel
so forgive her heart cries
the tear
that shall not fall from the eyes
so she takes a little trip
every now and then
bad as War’s “Low Rider”
remembering Sadig’s summer songs
eight track tapes
all those jams
inside her head
the wedding ring she pawned
the torn heart with a tear
let her cry


© 2010 Lepadah

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Welcome to Toledo, Ohio

“Alone in Toledo:
not really,
several hours
we pulled into a stark greyhound bus terminal”
“drifters dragging hustling babies,
myself included
marched uniformly
towards departure gates”
sleepy stumbling
some with uncombed hair
buckwheat and tiny topsy
couple of mathematics geeks in front
one smelled of pee
assume a weak bladder
he stank!
they’re chat bout
bet the “Hindu”
only one to figure a math question
exempting everyone else
black and spanish
with an exception to an asian kid
squatted on the floor playing video game
stood looking at the surroundings
listening
wasting mind
waiting
watching each person
however brief
not brief enough
peculiar couple of Hillbillies
said from Kalamazoo
matching pinstripe hats
with skeletons along the side
an ugly lost face present his wife
kids off the side giggled
tried not to notice
the husbands greedy grin
cigarette breath in my face
“I’m Hank.”
like I care
a partial smile
continued reading vibe magazine
inching his way to tell me their adventures
like i care
but listened
hitchhiking across the Mid-West
Rocky Mountains
with only one red nap sack
somehow lucked befriend them
with tickets
I’m certain lifted
from an unknown
unsuspecting pocket
head still in the hotel room
manage a sneak preview
“Hank kept talking,
the wife holding her flabby tits
as though someone to suck”
I held tightly to nympho thoughts
jarred back to Toledo
over a loud speaker
“Attention all passengers headed East please remove tickets.”
“First boarding call for gate number 7.”
happy to end Hank’s empty conversation
ready to leave Toledo

© 2010 Lepadah

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nominated
(This is your poem)

Submitted by race_9togo on 8 July 2010 - 5:31am.

Hello

I seldom comment on or critique any poem whose author does not want the raw truth.
This poem, however, is so good that I am breaking my usual rule.

I’m going to assume that you want the raw truth; if you do, well and good, if not, please accept my apologies.

First of all, this is very, very, very good. I actually was stuck in the Toledo Dog Depot nearly 30 years ago, and you took me right back there, vividly and intensely.

*********************************************************

From: Alcaeus (Alcaeus)

To: lepadahxxx
Unread
Posted: Jul 08 10 06:34 AM
Message:

Great narrative, very enjoyable read.

Al.

**********************************************************
From: trkyounger (trkyounger)

To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Jul 06 10 06:17 PM
Message:

...very nice poem

reminds me a little of bukowski

peace

obatala

Thursday, July 1, 2010

A New Delilah in Gotham the Great

searching last nights dream
pushed to recognize Satans whore
sweet perfume smuggled between her beautiful lumps
inveigling of a new Delilah
refresh and agog
blind eye samson lost locks
buried in destruction
disallow her entrance to Gotham gate
convulsing in the Atlantic
dem wandering frantic
stalling armageddon door
restraining Satan massaging his huge six head penis
babylon bitch incompetent
dem thrashing about waters
prepared to rupture earth's ass hole
where is Jesus?
leaving us to swirl in the abyss
the deep debauchery man's sins
dying to be fucked forever
by temptation

© 2010 Lepadah


A New Delilah in Gotham the Great

From: mapovia (mapovia)


To: lepadahxxx


A write, a rite that's strong
like liquor strong
prepared for those about to be murdered