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Jim Morrison's Poetry

Jim Morrison's Poetry



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Published by api-3702995
If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.- J Morrison
If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.- J Morrison

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Published by: api-3702995 on Oct 14, 2008
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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 Moment of inner freedomwhen the mind is opened and theinfinite universe revealed& the soul is left to wanderdazed & confus'd searchinghere & there for teachers & friends.Moment of Freedomas the prisonerblinks in the sunlike a molefrom his holea child's 1st tripaway from homeThat moment of FreedomLAmericaCold treatment of our empressLAmericaThe Transient UniverseLAmericaInstant communion andcommunicationlamericaemeralds in glasslamericasearchlights at twi-lightlamericastoned streets in the pale dawnlamericarobed in exilelamericaswift beat of a proud heartlamericaeyes like twentylamericaswift dreamlamericafrozen heartlamericasoldiers doomlamericaclouds & struggleslamericaNighthawk
doomed from the startlamerica"That's how I met her,lamericalonely and frozenlamerica& sullen, yeslamericaright from the start"Then stop.Go.The wilderness between.Go round the march.he enters stage:Blood boots. Killer storm.Fool's gold. God in a heaven.Where is she?Have you seen her?Has anyone seen this girl?snap shot (projected)She's my sister.Ladies & gentlemen:please attend carefully to these words & eventsIt's your last chance, our last hope.In this womb or tomb, we're free of the swarming streets.The black fever which rages is safely out those doorsMy friends & I come fromFar Arden w/ dances, & new musicEverywhere followers accrueto our procession.Tales of Kings, gods, warriorsand lovers dangled like jewels for your careless pleasureI'm Me!Can you dig it.My meat is real.My hands--how they movebalanced like lithe demonsMy hair--so twined and writhingThe skin of my face--pinch the cheeksMy flaming sword tonguespraying verbal fire-flysI'm real.I'm humanBut I'm not an ordinary manNo No No
What are you doing here?What do you want?Is it music?We can play music.But you want more.You want something & someone new.Am I right?Of course I am.You want ecstasyDesire & dreams.Things not exactly what they seem.I lead you this way, he pulls that way.I'm not singing to an imaginary girl.I'm talking to you, my self.Let's recreate the world.The palace of conception is burning.Look. See it burn.Bask in the warm hot coals.You're too young to be oldYou don't need to be toldYou want to see things as they are.You know exactly what I doEverythingI am a guide to the LabyrinthMonarch of the protean towerson this cool stone patioabove the iron mistsunk in its own wastebreathing its own breath
 I can make the earth stop inits tracks. I made theblue cars go away.I can make myself invisible or small.I can become gigantic & reach thefarthest things. I can changethe course of nature.I can place myself anywhere inspace or time.I can summon the dead.I can perceive events on other worlds,

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