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======== lepadahxxx says to you ========
======================= Forwarded Message =======================
A stroll thru Washington Square with the fellas
after dark
it's light enough to play a game of chess
dancers in flight
fight to compete with lighting bugs
flick of beatnik revisit
there's men in this life time
influence provocative thought
mind food and generous stimulation
sitting opposite such magnificent bards
composition a fit right neat
inside a village hub
conversation range from the three wise men add one more
now four
friend of noted musicians, artist alike
Brother's who decided to be black and stayed
those that walk in-between line
shading believing that it's okay to do their thing
as long as you talk about being black until five
you dig that jive
after five you cross section
into two different shades
two faced
shit! here I am waking the flock
we're on the clock
check the time
Miss Black America head wrapping
finger tapping, popping, toting emblems
of all that I am
all that am; all that I will ever be is Black
dress dashiki and the kink of natural hair
private talk with the fellas about Robeson, X X X X,
Mao, Mao
Soul on Ice and a women's perspective . . .
drinking white tea and eating sushi
with no chopsticks
hands fumble about the platter decorated assortment
preciously place
as the giant and foes wrecked the serenity of an artful display
slam dunk into soy sauce splattering splay
follow up slurps, burps and vulgar howls
pushed back easy on wooden legs
chary sticks into communal eating
one gentle of pearl salmon
her mates swallow no pride
achieve Japanese saki like water
the civility of sushi be posted
assured to be ignored
one can only imagine the giant bard who love the tales of pussy
is quite evident his skill at cunnilingus
is far from an elegant munching
and quite possibly suspect
her sneaky smirk
thought a flirt
mask her wicked notation of the bards.
© 2012 Lepadah
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======== lepadahxxx says to you ========
======================= Forwarded Message =======================
For blood and guts
of all mankind
the turning of time
payment of our sin
banish one without roof
forced into creation
a bother to a society
careless eviction of the unfruitful
a mouth dry with thirst and deathless famine
stomach extended to allow excess gas
water a wave around its emptiness
the smell of food sending one in search of trash cans
behind local bars
the summer reserve one a spot on the pier
a bench to view across the water
eye passing of a party boat
afloat full of musical laughter
happily ever after . . . is a wonder
unwrapping the aluminum foil from an egg
tucked away for a day like this
each peel became a firm moment
careful not to tear the egg as to lose any substance
Thought of not to gobble it down
for sake of not another would present itself too soon
awe the sweet watermelon air flavored with mango and peaches
send a heart reaching with an ache
even a dog eyes fail with need
true indeed
there are holes
at bottom of soles
prompt remove the cross leg
to hide the bottoms
even pain stands at chance inspiration
as giving that of hunger is a host
to profound thoughts
relevance of survival
for blood and guts
of all mankind
the turning of time
payment our debt
albatross for our sin
© 2012 Lepadah
You can view it in the context of the entire discussion by going to:
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======== lepadahxxx says to you ========
======================= Forwarded Message =======================
God's sons
my son, our son's
Listen up young one
I'm trying to serve you some get right
for you to be right
trying to keep you on track
Trying to keep you from slipping back
into a shadow
holding pens, cell block
jail house lock up
trying to keep you off the block
intellectually feed you what it is you need
drink you're thirsty for the knowledge
thirsty for history
you betta pray you make it thru without a felony
remember you gets no favas on the inside
dismiss from your frame of street reference
those rap videos of niggas so bold
holding their jock straps down
massaging their crown
forget that shit
when just yesterday
the same nigga was sucking house gang dick
you betta . . . figa that nigga son
those booty bandits working on ripping your virginal asshole
wide open . . . split!
so the shit won't stick
the whole pen tag you a new bitch
don't get it twisted
yeah this shit is sadistic
you young brother's
young son, man child, God's sons, son of ancient African Kings
son of Shaka, Aesop and
son of abu, Ahmed, baba, Bilal, Elijah,
I'm tired of seeing God's sons held captive
we got to get proactive
in a place where taggiing
fishing and bumping tits is the name of the game
and you're gonna to be down
or be dead
I'm trying to keep you from the box
a constant embryo position
goon squad demand complete submission
those ain't your daddies
listen up sons
I'm trying to save you from buckets, the tombs, bullets
Police Brutality and prison warfare
Riker rope when there is no hope
the criminal swag, pant sag
hacks green light for new jacks
serial killers and psychopaths
listen up son . . . you do the math
this is a billion dollar profit
God's sons inside the super max
held captive labeled you a "Felon"
for the rest of your natural born life
listen up son I'm trying to gift you truth!
© 2012 Lepadah
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======== lepadahxxx says to you ========
======================= Forwarded Message =======================
she's just a bit mellow
her hiatus
an upheaval of sorts
evolution to gather intangibility
organic transition
bowing out of hell's kitchen
to recover ones piety
kneeling down
prostrate self for Salat
the piece of a soul
resurrect whole
an aged conscious
flourishing peaks
Bismillah . . .
In the name of Allah, the most Beneficent,
the Most Merciful
for one has to be mellow in order to arrive
© 2012 Lepadah
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Sent from my iPhone
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