WRITING OFF A LONG SENTIENCE :On the road with Jim Morrison

 James Douglas “Jim” Morrison (December 8, 1943 – July 3, 1971)

We dream out of a poetry karaoke
below the constellated shine,
let’s just create one, if there be nay
for random words to be yours and mine.
 “Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything;
 it just ticks off the possibilities. 
Opens all doors. 
You can walk through anyone that suits you.* 

The audience, they,
were quiet vampires
Nights are fiction in a subway,
where lovers and pens write their quires.
I talk of spirits woven in the air
I am the voice of a diegesis
Her laughter, the shadows of a mimesis
there are streaks of whiteness in the dark chambray
  “I believe in a long, prolonged, derangement  
 of the senses 
in order to obtain the unknown”*
Someday on that stone there will be a coda
and your ashes will become  dandelion dust
The day is inflamed, aroused till the final star
so will us gain, by the bathos of death, harvest.
“Death makes angels of us all 
and gives us wings where we had shoulders
 smooth as ravens claws.”*  


[* all italicized quotations 
in green above belong to Jim Morrison"]


Jim's gravestone bears the Greek inscription:
 literally meaning
  "according to his own daemon" 
and usually interpreted as  
"true to his own spirit"
(wikipedia :en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Morrison)

©Rangam Chiru, 26/2/12


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  1. #1 by Born This Way Tour Australia on March 25, 2012 - 5:52 am

    An amazing article, thanks for the writing.

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