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

Selected Poems by Leonard Cohen
May 31, 2005 3:47 a.m.

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So I've always heard of Leonard Cohen.

I even heard his voice on the Natural Born Killers soundtrack.

But I had never read one of his poems until yesterday when I bought a fantastic book for cheap.

I definately feel the need to share.

Here's your Poetry reading for the day, enjoy.

The Music Crept By Us

I would like to remind
the management
that the drinks are watered
and the hat-check girl
has syphilis
and the band is composed
of former SS Monsters
However since it is
New Year's Eve
and I have lip cancer
I will place my
paper hat on my
concussion and dance

Song

When with lust I am smitten
To my books I then repair
And read what men have written
Of Flesh forbid but fair

But in these saintly stories
Of gleaming thigh and breast
Of sainthood and its glories
Alas I find no rest

For at each body rare
The saintly man disdains
I stare O God I stare
My heart is stained with stains

And casting down the holy tomes
I lead my eyes to where
The naked girls with sliver combs
Are Combing out their hair

Then each pain my hermits sing
Flies upward like a spark
I live with the mortal ring
Of flesh on flesh in dark.

Celebration

When you kneel below me
and in both your hands
hold my manhood like a sceptre

When you wrap your tongue
about the amber jewel
and urge my blessing.

I understand those Roman girls
who danced around a shaft of stone
and kissed it till the stone was warm.

Kneel, love, a thousand feet below me,
so far I can barely see your mouth and hands
perform the ceremony,

Kneel till I topple to your back
with a grown, like those gods on the roof
that Samson pulled down.

I Long To Hold Some Lady

I long to hold some lady
For my love is far away,
and will not come tomorrow
And was not here today.

There is no flesh so perfect
As my lady's bone,
And yet it seems so distant
Whe I am all alone;

As though she were a masterpiece
In some castled town,
That pilgrims come to visit
And priests to copy down.

Alas, I cannot travel
To a love I have so deep
Or sleep too close beside
A love I want to keep.

But I long to hold some lady,
For flesh is warm and sweet,
Cold skeletons go marching
Each night beside my feet.

One Night I Burned The House I Loved

One night I burned the house I loved,
It lit a perfect ring
In which I saw some weeds and stone
Beyond--not anything.

Certain creatures of the air
Frightened by the night,
They came to see the world again
And perished in the light.

Now I sail from sky to sky
And all the blackness sings
Against the boat that I have made
Of mutilated wings.

Past

Present

Coffee

Zeldman

Otep

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