Raven in Green again..

nothings changed the senates still corrupt & the emporer remains insane, and every day, is a new strain of slaughter, supply lines are less protected, evil on all sides, eye can smell the death on your flesh--creeping in, trapped within the twisting fingers of fear, and all eye see is ewe, that face, those eyes, burning like leprosy, eye can see u there poisoning the air, prostituing Nationalism, and eye want to attack, to rip out your heart and lay you flat on your back, and vomit a world of agony and truth into your throbbing illness of memory...and hate guides our way, eye long for the icy slap of a belt across my back, for the acceptance of death and blind cave war, the giving sleep of depression, the sweet elucidation of savage meaningless agression, chiseled in the meaty forearms of Mother Jupiter and his slave disciples, in the harem tents--outside, just beyond the edges--eye ride, a cycoptic mare in the fires of imagination. feeding my disease, a river of plagues, eye need something to remind me I'm still sinning that pain is important, that wurdz matter, that healing is possible, that eye am not alone ...in this --guard the houses--triple the watch,--Maidens, dig up your sorcery --sirens, sharpen your rocks..ewe will eat my pain again. whatever you need unite messiah ME

--Wurdz by Otep Shamaya

Boston Tea Party, a poem
2001-06-11 11:51 a.m.

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Boston Tea Party

I will never understand those
who hide what they feel.
They lock up their woes
and have no way to heal.

But one day they'll find
that their tin frame of mind
can't carry the load
of being so cold
and sooner or later
they'll have to explode,

Spilling forth from the lid
all the black that they hide.
And the tears from their eyes
that fall from their cries,
is really the truth
that kills all the lies.

and by releasing this pain,
They have freedom to gain,
and their sea full of tea
is never in vain.

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