Friday, June 01, 2007

The Last Poem I Wrote

Dark Moon, September 8, 1999

He tries to tell me I can't be angry and spiritual
In the name of Jehovah
Fuck You!
In anger Jesus threw the tables of the moneychangers over in the temple

Anger makes me strong
Doesn't let me lie down and take being raped
You wanna tell me I'm unladylike?
In the name of the Goddess
Fuck You!

Anger is power
He tries to take away my power by making me think
I'm not spiritual
Not Ladylike
But really he fears the power of a woman whose been bound on the ground
For far too long

He tries humiliation
"You're the most miserable 'spiritual' person I've ever met!"
Well check out my latest sermon
As I heave a potted plant into the fridge through the door

Spirituality is not all angel wings
Crystals and Light
I'm not your Cosmic Barbie!

The prophets of old were pretty pissed off too
When they saw their fellow men destroying themselves
"A prophet is most often honored in her own land with Death," the old proverb says

I walk past a stagnant creek once teeming with fish
Infected with filth
I grieve over the murder of my Creator
Whose raped and once beautiful body
Doesn't look very Ladylike today

Oh Kali-Ma! Dark Goddess!
Sorceress who will not be ruled
Comfort me with your Justice
Devour the flesh of those that violate Beauty
Transform my inner demons
Into tools of Power

Holy Rage

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