What's this about opinion?
Just some exclusive right of people to say their idiotic
Believe their moronic
accept their own views
Denying the need of a more enlightened clarification.

A puff of dust,
A slight slow breeze,
My foeman steps beneath the weeping trees,

A whispered word,
A lovers touch,
She lied to me about much,

Her body was sweet,
Her lips were red,
Today her poison kiss leaves one man dead,

He stops and turns,
He meets my eyes,
This man who took my lying wife,

He brushes back his duster,
He slips his hammer strap,
His actions have led him into my trap,

He dips his hand,
He draws his steel,
But my equalizer is poised for the kill,

WOUNDS

My wounds bleed
hard and deep
My heart is blind
to its own light
and my soul seeks peace
fleeing far from itself
into distant places
Let the madness come
and all knowing be done !

He sings to me

I"m the happiest when
i'm within the one note you sing to me
eavesdrop quietly
a faint back into a prism of lyrics
too absolute to possess
I let it breathe then rest
on the abstruse center of my back
a scale pulse decrypt rungs nexus intricacies
a looped spinal cord
emancipate movement to the accompaniment of fingertips
a prod boney keys
to lessen her aches and pangs so as to create again in chancel

© 2012 Lepadah

grinding ink
rice paper for the haiga
ginkos remain

maple leaf dances
across stony creek
syncopated

warm sunlight
red leaf filtered
brisk breeze

dried leaves swirl
raise and fall on the eddy
cul-de-sac

dead birch stands out
among red gold and orange
old ghost

black and white
ink streaked rice paper
fall colors appear
 
 

When dark becomes the night
no moon nor stars in sight
but woes, sighs and cries,
how sadly look the skies.

Then bright shall come the day
to sweep that dark away.
The sun, shining for miles
adorns the skies with smiles.

.
He rumbles in the distant haze
feet heavy
in the groaning grey’s
grumble and quiver
and threatens
to let loose the deluge
held in promise
by the hovering black
as he incites air-quake with every angry step

I am not dead
I am just changing
Unfolding as a rose
tipped by dew
in warm basking
of freedoms light
... Alive yet incoherent
Solving my enemies
as queens to pawns
Eclipsing the moon drops
of Aslan and his armies
Meadows of heather,
lilac and lavender
Mushrooms ballooning
across eastern east
The dragon smoking
puffing his pipe
while crawdads race
across marble floors
in the crystal palace
Hello!!!
there my Lyrical one
Sing me a song about

A decided hitch has come to fruition
sabotoging the glide in my stride,
Worcestershire nights, so cold and damp

the Northern Lights makes us want to go, hide;
there's truely magic in the air!
Better walk it off, before it starts to cramp!

Salty, lemon-jello moonbeams
illuminate my weary eyes,
but, a feather could've bent me off of my skid!

Worry not, because I kept my balance'
and joggered not, into my dawn's surprise!
Let's get closer, so we don't disrupt the grid.

With his goofy hat,
Topped with a smelly cat,
And his girlfriend named Pat,
And those insane suspenders,
That may have been in a few blenders,
He had the truck with the messed up fenders,
He looked like a goon,
When he carried his little spittoon,
And his bird dog named Coon,
His lip packed with Skoal,
All he did was mine coal,
Pants tucked in his boots,
He sure was a hoot,
And he sure as hell couldn’t shoot,
He couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn,
And when he missed he said darn,