Παρασκευή, 24 Φεβρουαρίου 2012

Jim Morisson/ Poetry







 

THE FEAR

Eternal consciousness
in the Void
(makes trial and jail seem almost
friendly)

a Kiss in the Storm

(Madman at the wheel
gun at the neck
scape populous & arching
coolly)

A barn
a cabin attic

Your own face
stationary
in the mirrored window

fear of restroom's
Tragic cold
neon

I'm freezing

animals
dead

white wings of
rabbits

grey velvet deer

The Canyon

The car a craft
in wretched
SPACE

Sudden movements

& your past
to warm you
in Spiritless
Night

The Lonely HWY
Cold hiker

Afraid of wolves
& his own
Shadow



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The Wolf,
Who lives under the rock
has invited me
to drink of his cool
Water.
Not to splash or bathe
But leave the sun
& know the dead desert
night
& the cold men
who play there.



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a ha
Come on, now
luring the Traveler
Mighty Voyager
Curious, into its dark womb
The graves grinning
Indians of night
The eyes of night
Westward lurking
into the brothel, into the blood bath
into the Dream
The dark Dream of conquest
& Voyage
into night, Westward into Night



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LAMERICA

Clothed in sunlight
restled in waiting
dying of fever

Changed shapes of an empire
Starling invaders
Vast promissory notes of joy

Wanton, willful & passive
Married to doubt
Clothed in great warring monuments
of glory

How it has changed you
How slowly estranged you
Solely arranged you

Beg you for mercy



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The Crossraods
a place where ghosts
reside to whisper into
the ears of travellers &
interest them in their fate

Hitchhiker drinks:
"I call again on the dark
hidden gods of blood"

-Why do you call us?
You know our price. It
never changes. Death of
you will give you life
& free you from a vile
fate. But it is getting late.

-If I could see you again
& talk w/ you, & walk a
short while in your company,
& drink the heady brew
of your conversations,
I thought

-to rescue a soul already
ruined. To achieve respite.
To plunder green gold
on a pirate raid & bring
to camp the glory of old.

-As the capesman faces
poisoned horns & drinks
red victory; the soldier,
too, w/ his trophy, a
pierced helmet; & the
ledge-walker shuddering
his way into inward grace

-(laughter) Well, then. Would
you mock yourself?

-No.

-Soon our voices must become
one, or one must leave.



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Forest strong sandals
burnt geometry fingers
around a fire
reading history in blackened
books, charcoal silence
in moot splendor

Flame-tree
Sire, we met in Eden
The troubled time
we had
rustling in the night leaves
a sniper aimed at our window
a kitten mewing in the blasted
strong air
I must go see

-You've found your Voice,
friend, after all else
I recognize fast the
Strong sure tones of
a poet
was it a question
Search or of strangling?
I wonder
We never talked
But welcome here
to the camp fire
Share our meal
w/ us
& tell us of your life
& the hanging

-Well 1st I screamed
& I was a child again alive
Then nothing til the age
of 5

& then summers & the racetrack
I looked for a girl in
New Mexican
bars
& found jail
The prostitute looked out
her cell & saw
Fuck god scratched
on a leprous wall

-You're rambling boy
what of the rest
the jazz highway
he winks.

-I got picked up
& rode through the night

-did you see any buildings

-did I...
What was I doing
of course we danced plenty
She had nice sides
the cop hit me
Stop, I don't remember

-The logs are melting
we must move on
The fire's ending
we'll hear more
at the next altar

[musical interlude]

Trees
Train-death
The American Night
We went through 5 cords
of wood this winter

-he told me beautiful stories
& had the most beautiful visions
He was a truly religious man
at the end

-you know, I like you guys
god-damn!

(I saw this cat run out
of the ocean, one night,
and beat-off into a fire)

I'm going down to Mexico
To this border town I heard
about & I'm gonna buy
me a girl & bring her
back up here & marry her, it's
true. This guy told me.
A friend of his knew someone who

-You're too much



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There was preserved
in her
The fresh miracle
of
surprise



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open

The Night is young
& full of rest
I can't describe
the way she's dress'd
She'll pander to some strange
requests
Anything that you suggest
Anything to please her guest



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SIRENS

Midnight
criminal metabolism of guilt forest
Rattlesnakes whistles catcalls

Remove me from this hall of mirrors
This filthy glass

Are you her
Do you look like that
How could you be when
no one ever could


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Poet of the call-girl storm

She left a note on the bedroom door.
"If I'm out, bring me to."


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I dropped by to see you
late last night
But you were out
like a light
Your head was on the floor
& rats played pool w/ your eyes

Death is a good disguise
for late at night

Wrapping all its games in its calm garden

But what happens
when the guests return
& all unmask
& you are asked
to leave
for want of a smile

I'll still take you then
But I'm your friend