Saturday, December 31, 2011

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Pillow Talk omg my joint.

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Friday, December 23, 2011

Return Trip by Lepadah

Crossing the Boulevard
snap syncopated electric steps
hands descending into a cast fibula
smarted out black pea coats

sketches of Tel Aviv
and the iridescent eyes of the Dead Sea
your narrated lucency
vision of mortal Gods, Conquerors, Kings and a madman
imbathe in her abundance

aspiring fortune opportunity
traveled; upon your return
delighted in your dramatics

please explain once again
for the bells toll to hear
imported tnflection
suffering through idiom's

I'll be first before the Moth
shelled legs, lingering
instigating a continued jubilee

this evening will be
full of written, morpheme words
spoken/unspoken thoughts
ebbing future erotic struggles
remove the pen . . . unleash the sword



© 2011 Lepadah

Wild Flower By New Birth A song for M. Pryce praying for her.

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Thursday, December 22, 2011

Waxpoetics Latin Issue Bravo!

Waxpoetics has done it again!!! The Latin edition is filled with so much Sazon I'm salivating gobbling every atom of musical dope, lyrical, singing genius it is RIDICULOUS. Wax is chock-full of articles it is a must read if you don't know now you know. The vibraphonist extraordinaire Cal Tjader, Al Santiago and the birth of the Alegre All Stars and the pie'ce de re'sistance Afro- Cuban Evolution my man Eddie Palmieri musicality so spectacular I had to dig in the crate dust off Palmieri's "Mozambique" a gift from my ex hehe.
Please read the article "Righteous Struggle" . . . listen I'm going to let the music speak for itself. Peace go out and get your issue of Waxpoetics for yourself or someone you know who digs this beautiful musical knowledge. Peace Lepadah

Eddie Palmieri y Ismael Quintana - Cinturita - Music Video

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Monday, December 19, 2011

About Artist Lepadah (Per Se)

Photo

About the author Lepadah
Words. Universally expanding outward beyond known possibilities. Spatial sporadic coagulations forming paratactic fragments. A collective archetypal inheritance expounds in the form of connected notions.
An equal expansion within. Unconscious forces seeking wholeness—the mystery of soul. Waves of resonance vibrate inward where emphasis and essence and imagination infinitely flow.
An artist’s self-sculpted personified effigy—words—shape into a finely contoured poet. Congregating episteme, a curious questioning method of elenchus seeks resolutions, as the tightrope walker balances on the high wire between truth and belief, between calm and chaos, between reality and illusion…
Between the lines, a marinating alphabet soup of thought. Provoking pieces of nourishment. Spoken and unspoken images merge into discovery of repertoire as an ensemble waits in anticipation of dramatic performance, in other words, performance poetry, per se.
In lyrical soliloquy, a presentation of balanced, heart-felt harmony—prose and poetry—in other words…Le Per se.

State of Being (for Lepadahxxx) Mapovia

Poems for Comment

State of Being (for Lepadahxxx)

From: mapovia (mapovia)
Last Visit: 11:26 AM
Posts: 7705


To: All
Posted: Dec 18 11 08:32 PM
Message: 
58048.1 (1 of 3)

You pick the paints to color me.
Black and blue are fine by me.
I'm partial to the darker hues.

White wash me if you will.
It will not change who or what I am.
I am mud, I am saffron.  I'm also coral reef.

Mock me, curse me.  So many times
you've spat on me, I'm numb to adversity..
Towards adversity  I feel a little fondness, in fact.

Whatever you do, don't pretend to love me
and then at random despise my race and culture.
I've already warned you who and what I am.

I am lowly not because it is my station. For love of art,
I dress the part. Handle me with caution, then.
I might be your siren of destruction

For those who insist to know what I'm about,
I'm a woman of a thousand faces.  Some Calypso,
a few Medusa.

I deride royal titles.Pompous titles I will bring to naught.
True nobility is of heart and mind,
and of temper most of all

Mapovia

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Frankie Lymon - Goody Goody (Live)

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Wednesday, December 14, 2011

In memory of Autumn Pascal Pryce


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To Autumn Pascal Pryce we will never forget our precious angel. Missing you every second, minute, hour and days.

Love Mother

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Holiday and Memories from Editor Friend and Lepadah

Monday, December 12, 2011 10:42 PM

From:

"Larry Mayfield"

To:
"Lydia Percy"

Lydia,

When Christmas seemed to have more meaning. That holiday season kind of meaning. Everyone in a good mood, for no particular reason. Mom and Dad working together for the family. Let's see...we will go to my grandmother's house whatever day the kinfolks come to town and work the rest in as it happens. I loved my grandmother."Mama" we all called her. Lived to be 99--what an inspiration. Never complained. Always glad to see everyone. All those old stories resurfacing, again. The food. That's what it is all about. Turkey, dressing, yams, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, fresh rolls, iced tea. And dessert. Pies of all kinds: several pecan pies, lemon chess, chocolate, coconut, mince meat, pumpkin... And other snacks: fudge, chocolate chip cookies, peanut brittle, and divinity. Did I forget anything? probably...
Christmas at my parents house on Christmas Eve. As a kid, the presents were few, but meaningful. There would always be some kind of kid toy I wanted, and didnt really expect, but it was always there. And when the presents ran out, there was always one more for the little kid that came out of hiding, me for many years, until another little kid took my place. That last present would give me tears, knowing we didnt really have enough money for that one extra present.
My generation grew up and had our own kids, as the old ones passed on: my dad, my grandmother "Mama," and all those who I now wish were there again to bring their specialty food and big smiles for the occasion. Christmas and a family reunion all in one.
Had my own kids, same thing, work in all the traveling to each others' houses to see each side of the family. Christmas morning. My kids faces, bright and shiney and ready to dive in all the presents. The family dwindled, almost down to nothing compared to... I miss my Aunt Vieta's mince meat pie, amd Mama's pecan pie, And now Mom is too old and frail to fix those little extras like divinity.
I miss them all: Uncles: Chuck, Jud, Cecil, Charlie, Ira... Aunts: Vieta, Evelyn, Thelma, Vivian... Several of my generation now gone, and I am the youngest of 16 of that generation. My dad, Forrest, and Mama (Birdie) I miss the most, though I carry them inside.
The divorce separated me from Christmas more than expected. The kids grew up, moved away. Last year it was just me and Mom, like this year at Thanksgiving. No decorations anymore. They are boxed up, unused.
My son coming to town. He wants to see his grandmother, Memaw to him. The once bright family eyes of the past, having been dimmed for several years, flickered at the thought of... One phone call led to another, Looks like 15 at last count. Two pecan pies, one pumpkin, and one mince meat coming to the party so far. And I have the chore of cooking the ham and turkey and dressing, well actually it will be my 89 year old Mom telling me what to do. She's a little frail these days, but wants to see everyone just in case it it her last time.
I dont know how to cook, but I do know how to eat. And I really like sharing those old stories, again.

Larry



Emma's chicken dumpling the upset stomach and Holiday Memories

When i was little my mama Emma's chicken dumpling soup would stop the bellyaches making the world a better place to be.
I scamper down the basement steps into the large kitchen frantically sifting through the drawer creating a mesh march of mess searching for the biggest ladle to scoop out mama's homemade dumplings swimming around in the rich yellow broth from the fowl. Eating my portion right out the large cooker. This eased all that bother. Mama knew I was busy ripping off all the dumplings leaving just the chicken for everyone else. Sure enough comfort a skinny little pig tailed girl a big know "I'm special!" These are treasured memories loving the bitter and sweet taste of growing up Lydia. I missed those days dancing with dad on his Friday's off, being our personal chef throwing a family party just because. Crank up the stereo throw on King Curtis pour the Johnny Walker Black time to set the table. A Friday night fish fry. I can still smell the food, hear the laughter and music. Even though Holiday's were hectic ours was always full of love, patience and understanding the character's that made up this family. . .

Peace Lepadah

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Atlantic slave trade - Respect history that's whats up.

Venus Hottentot sister's love your body

Media_httpgraegramcom_jzxhb


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kin to good dreams
vivid nightmares in-between
indulgent scenes
espy thespians

clipping sapor
soaked bamboo sticks
coco mango a merge supreme
neighborly smells
of fried fish, plantains, rice and beans

seems my dress is so corny
as one sit adroit trying to fit in
licking at the hips of coolness
a stiff shot of something lusty
will settle the tightness of configuration

loosen lips sedate the linguist
to issue just as nature would have
one to belong
innate talent to capture dwindling luminaries

trend edge snatch up by corporations
sold back to the hood
with stamps of their own
she survives rising up

towering heights with steel roots
her horns spitting accents
marinating in each sonnet I continue to toss at the wind
assemble Venus Hottentot descendants
to revelation dance

I love you . . . Brooklyn
cotton to your warm living room of old illegal joints
someplace downtown brown
shake shimmy; cutting capers in no drawers

unraveling her apron for spring
colorful trestle majestically solid
all dressed up readying for new folks
of many countries

I refuse to leave in this way
whispering i must stay

for the last dance


© 2011 Lepadah

Diego Rivera Birthday, Mumia Win and the movie The Help

Happy Birthday Diego Rivera! One of my favorite muralist/artist would have been 125 this December 8th 2011. FYI please go see this wonderful exhibit at the MOMA and experience the visual brilliance of this Artist.

The Leonard Lopate Show
Diego Rivera's Murals at MoMA

Curator Leah Dickerman discusses the murals and career of Diego Rivera. “Diego Rivera: Murals for the Museum of Modern Art” is on view at MoMA through May 14. The exhibition features murals, which are up to six feet by eight feet in size and weigh as much as 1,000 pounds, made of frescoed plaster, concrete, and steel. There are also three working drawings, a “portable mural” made in 1930, and smaller prints, watercolors, and drawings.

.....................

Please note Mumia's win as noted after breaking news yesterday and his 30 years of persistent appeals, prosecutors rule out execution of Mumia Abu-Jamal. a bittersweet victory as stated in this weeks Amsterdam News and this discussion on WBAI.


.....................


Recently viewed the movie "The Help." A deeply moving and vibrant movie I watched with my son last night. Awakening emotions exposing tears which ran without my realization. The immense power of the depiction during this pivotal period still resonance in the forum of our minds feeling the deep injustice of humankind towards another human. I strongly urge everyone no matter what color to view this film.

Peace Lepadah

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Brooklyn II by Lepadah

Brooklyn II


kin to good dreams
vivid nightmares in-between
indulgent scenes
espy thespians

clipping sapor
soaked bamboo sticks
coco mango a merge supreme
neighborly smells
of fried fish, plantains, rice and beans

seems my dress is so corny
as one sit adroit trying to fit in
licking at the hips of coolness
a stiff shot of something lusty
will settle the tightness of configuration

loosen lips sedate the linguist
to issue just as nature would have
one to belong
innate talent to capture dwindling luminaries

trend edge snatch up by corporations
sold back to the hood
with stamps of their own
she survives rising up

towering heights with steel roots
her horns spitting accents
marinating in each sonnet I continue to toss at the wind
assemble Venus Hottentot descendants
to revelation dance

I love you . . . Brooklyn
cotton to your warm living room of old illegal joints
someplace downtown brown
shake shimmy; cutting capers in no drawers

unraveling her apron for spring
colorful trestle majestically solid
all dressed up readying for new folks
of many countries

I refuse to leave in this way
whispering i must stay

for the last dance


© 2011 Lepadah



Poems for Comment
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Brooklyn II


From: mapovia (mapovia)
Last Visit: 12:58 PM
Posts: 7690

Email
To: lepadahxxx
Posted: Dec 12 11 12:59 PM
Message:

I perceive aristocracy in your picture. Your poetry is in that accordance.

M.

Subject
Introduction
From:
Sent:
Dec 15, 2011 06:33:41 AM
To:
lydia


The following message was sent to you by pollyfish15 while viewing
your Member Profile:

Hello lepadahxxx, ;D

I'll try to be brief. I was perusing writing, as I often like to do on various forums and I ran across your work on about.com. I run a writing website www.writeforums.com and I was hoping you might
want to lend a critical eye and post some of your works there. Our site is just starting, only 60 or so active members, and our mission is to promote a friendly learning environment that fosters
growth and challenges writers to grow as artists. We want to attract the best quality of writer we can, so our only ad campaign is by personal invitation. I've read a couple of your posts and thought
they were intriguing, particularly 'Brooklyn II'(simply amazing) amazing), and was wondering if you might want to contribute some of your work and expertise to a small member-friendly start-up. (In
your spare time, I by no means wish to steal your talents away from your usual posting grounds.)

There are also monthly contests with prize money attached if that sort of thing floats your boat. and I think we could really benefit from your guidance.

Thanks,
Pollyanna.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Lepadah @ Rockefeller Center on the way to Bk BBQ's

Photo

Sent from my iPhone

Brooklyn

Photo

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Brooklyn I Love You!!!!! So much soul flavor it's ridiculous.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Jade Eyed Jewel By Lepadah

Vision of an one eyed jewel
token cloak views
stroke brushing a broad spectrum
up out of the bowel earth's rectum
eyes abandoned sight
a genius to light
titubate search thus . . .
daedal elemental
stem absolute mental
potentiality endless omens
flexing cerebral cortex
awake while sleep and never dead
drowned in bold perimeters
autograph the universe with words


© 2011 Lepadah



Comments

To: lepadahxxx
Unread
Posted: Dec 05 11 10:02 AM
Message: 


I like poems that make me think - and love the end line.  It has a meter that fits very well with the ideas, which had me do a bit of research.  Do you mean Daedalus - father of Icarus?

Acanti

Note to Sister Sun Light Epiphany Castro

I knew the inner energy was true within you. I recently viewed your latest video blog and to my surprise to find out you have issues with your vision. You are not alone just like our Sister genius writer Alice Walker lost the sight in one eye; yet is one of the prolific writer's of our time. So peculiar you mentioned this I found myself smiling because I too have a condition with my vision as well (myopia) so like us all you Sister/Queen are a visionary jewel able to view the broader spectrum of the universe daring to dwell mentally where no one else dares, intellectually outside the perimeters. Acute sense of our purpose in this world. Your eyes giving for sight but the mind holding the genius to light. Enjoy the specialness. A bless recovery after surgery Sister.


Peace Lepadah

Body & Soul Tony Bennett and Amy Winehouse


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Thursday, December 1, 2011