Mz Hyde's blog: "JIm Morrison Poetry"

I'll tell you this... No eternal reward will forgive us now For wasting the dawn. Back in those days everything was simpler and more confused One summer night, going to the pier I ran into two young girls The blonde one was called Freedom The dark one, Enterprise We talked and they told me this story Now listen to this... I'll tell you about Texas radio and the big beat Soft driven, slow and mad Like some new language Reaching your head with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god Wandering, wandering in hopless night Out here in the perimeter there are no stars Out here we is stoned Immaculate.

The 1st electric wildness came over the people on sweet Friday. Sweat was in the air. The channel beamed, token of power. Incense brewed darkly. Who could tell them that here it would end? One school bus crashed w/ a train. This was the Crossroads. Mercury stained. I couldn't get out of my seat. The road was littered w/ dead jitterbugs. Help, we'll be late for class. The secret flurry of rumor marched over the yard & pinned us unwittingly Mt. fever. A girl stripped naked on the base of the flagpole. In the restrooms all was cool & silent w/ the salt-green of latrines. Blankets were needed. Ropes fluttered. Smiles flattered & haunted. Lockers pried open & secrets discovered. Ah sweet music. Wild sounds in the night Angel siren voices. The baying of great hounds. Cars screaming thru gears & shrieks on the wild road Where the tires skip & slide into dangerous curves. Favorite corners. Cheerleaders raped in summer buildings. Holding hands & bopping toward Sunday. Those lean sweet desperate hours. Time searched the hallways for a mind. Hands kept time. The climate altered like a visible dance. Night-time women. Wondrous sacraments of doubt Sprang sullen in bursts of fear & guilt in the womb's pit hole below The belt of the beast

A wake Shake dreams from your hair My pretty child, my sweet one Chose the day,& the sign of your day, 1st thing you see. A burnt tree, like a giant primeval bird, a leaf, dry & bitter, crackling tales in its warm waves. Sidewalk gods will do for you. The forest of the neighborhood, The empty lost museum, & The mesa, & the Mt. pregnant Monument above the newstand where the children hide When school ends ~Jim Morrison~

The grand highway is crowded w/ lover & searchers & leavers so eager to please & forget. Wilderness ~Jim Morrison~

Can you dig it. My meat is real. My hands--how they move balanced like lithe demons My hair--so twined & writhing The skin of my face--pinch the cheeks My flaming sword tongue spraying verbal fire-flys I'm real. I'm human But I,m not an ordinary man No No No ~Jim Morrison~

Let's swim to the moon Let's climb thru the tide Penetrate the evenin' That the city sleeps to hide Let's swim out tonight, love It's our turn to try Parked beside the ocean On our moonlight drive. Let's swim to the moon Let's climb thru the tide Surrender to the waiting worlds That lap against our side. Nothin' left to open And no time to decide, We've stepped into a river On our moonlight drive. Let's swim to the moon Let's climb thru the tide You reach your hand to hold me But I can't be your guide. Easy, I love you As I watch you glide, Falling through wet forests On our moonlight drive. Midnight moonlight drive. Come on, baby, gonna take a little ride, Down , down by the oceean side. gonna get real close, Get real tight, Baby gonna drown tonight. Goin' down, down, down. ~Jim Morrison~

This is my forest a sea of wires. This gaggle of vision is my flame. These trees are men, the engineers. And a tribe of farmers on there sunday off. Gods--the directors. Cameras, greek Centaurs on the boom, sliding w/silent Mobile grace Toward me-- a leaping clown In the great sun's eye. Grand danger there in curved thigh. The avenging finger-- lord.

"Now listen to this; I'll tell you about Texas Radio & the Big Beat Soft driven slow & mad like some new language Reaching your head w/the cold &sudden fury of a divine messenger Let me tell you about heartache& the loss of God Wandering, wandering in hopeless night The negroes in the forest brightly feathered let me show you the maiden w/wrought-iron soul Out here on the perimeter there are no stars Out here we is stoned immaculate"

Sex for you was thread which binds us even now on this pale planet. To the poet & cover-girl, photo and color, to armys that join, out on a desert, & to samson & all his generals bound quiet now w/exotic arch-angels of dusk, in Sumarian & N. Afircan slumbers. The bazaar is crowded as dancers thrive. Snake-wreaths & pleasures. I take you to a low cave called "Calipah". ~Jim Morison~

The mushroom The unfolding instant of creation (fertilisation) not an instant seprate from breakfast It all flows down & out, flowing but that instant: not fire & fusion (fission) but a moment of jellied ice, crystal, vegetative mating merging in cool slime splendour a crushing of steel & glass & ice (instant in a bar; glasses clash, clink, collide) far-out splendour heat & fire are outwards signs of a Small dry mating