......jUUst Rooooock...
07.03.2006., utorak
..JIm MorriSon..
|
ev people da vam mal napisem nesht o jimu..i evo malo njegove poezije..ako ste gledali film THE DOORS sigurno ce vam biti poznato.. Is everybody in? Is everybody in? Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin. WAKE UP! You can't remember where it was Has this dream stopped? AWAKE Shake dreams from your hair My pretty child, my sweet one. Choose the day and choose the sign of your day The day's divinity First thing you see. A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon Couples naked race down by its quiet side And we laugh like soft, mad children Smug in the woolly cotton brains on infancy. The music and voices are all around us. Choose, they croon, the Ancient Ones The time has come again. Choose now, they croon, Beneath the moon Beside an ancient lake. Enter again the sweet forest, Enter the hot dream, Come with us, Everything is broken up and dances. GHOST SONG Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind. "Me and my — mother and father — and a grandmother and a grandfather — were driving through the desert, at dawn, and a truck load of Indian workers had either hit another car, or just — I don't know what happened — but there were Indians scattered all over the highway, bleeding to death." "So the car pulls up and stops. That was the first time I tasted fear. I musta' been about four — like a child is like a flower, his head is floating in the breeze, man." "The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking back — is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead Indians... maybe one or two of 'em... were just running around freaking out, and just leaped into my soul. And they're still in there. Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind. Indian, Indian what did you die for? Indian says, nothing at all. Gently they stir, gently rise. The dead are newborn awakening With ravaged limbs and wet souls, Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement. Who called these dead to dance? Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand? Was it the wilderness children? Was it the ghost god himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly? I called you up to anoint the earth. I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin. I called to wish you well, To glory in self like a new monster. And now I call on you to pray. A MILITARY STATION IN THE DESERT Can we resolve the past, Lurking jaws, joints of time? The Base To come of age in a dry place, Holes and caves. My friend drove an hour each day from the mountains. The bus gives you a hard-on with books in your lap. Someone shot the bird in the afternoon dance show. They gave out free records to the best couple. Spades dance best, from the hip. The music was new, black polished chrome And came over the summer like liquid night. The DJ's took pills to stay awake and play for seven days. They went to the studio and someone knew him; Someone knew the TV showman. He came to your homeroom party and played records And when he left in the hot noon sun and walked to his car, We saw the chooks had written F-U-C-K on his windshield He wiped it off with a white rag and smiling coolly drove away. He's rich. Got a big car. My gang will get you... Scenes of rape in the arroyo Seductions in cars, abandoned buildings. Fights at the food stand. The dust. The shoes. Open shirts and raised collars. Bright sculptured hair. Hey man, you want girls, pills, grass? C'mon... I show you good time. This place has everything. C'mon... I show you. Angels and sailors, rich girls, backyard fences, tents, Dreams watching each other narrowly, Soft luxuriant cars. Girls in garages, stripped out to get liquor and clothes, half gallons of wine and six packs of beer. Jumped, humped, born to suffer, made to undress in the wilderness. I will never treat you mean Never start no kind of scene I'll tell you every place and person that I've been Always a playground instructor, never a killer, Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over, He maneuvered two girls in to his hotel room. One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger Vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican. Poor boys thighs and buttocks scarred by a father's belt, She's trying to rise. Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games, Handsome lad, dead in a car. Confusion. No connections. Come 'ere. I love you. Peace on earth. Will you die for me? Eat me. This way. The end. I'll always be true Never go out, sneaking out on you, babe If only you'll show me Far Arden again. I'm surprised you could get it up. He whips her lightly, sardonically, with belt. Haven't I been through enough? she asks, Now dressed and leaving The Spanish girl begins to bleed; She says her period. It's Catholic heaven. I have an ancient Indian crucifix around my neck, My chest is hard and brown. Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin, We could plan a murder, Or start a religion. 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 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 hand with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger. Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god, Wandering, wandering in hopeless night. Out here in the perimeter there are no stars, Out here we is stoned Immaculate. The movie will begin in five moments, The mindless voice announced, All those unseated will await the next show. We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. The auditorium was vast and silent. As we seated and darkened, the voice continued: The program for this evening is not new, You've seen this entertainment through and through. You've seen your birth, your life and death, You might recall all of the rest. Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on? I'm getting out of here! Where are you going? To the other side of morning. Please don't chase the clouds, pagodas Her cunt gripped him like a warm, friendly hand. It's all right, all your friends are here. When can I meet them? After you've eaten. I'm not hungry. Uh, we meant beaten. Silvery stream, silvery scream Oooooh, impossible concentration. Curses, Invocations Weird bate-headed mongrels I keep expecting one of you to rise. Large buxom obese queens Garden hogs and cunt veterans Quaint cabbage saints Shit hoarders and individualists Drag strip officials Tight lipped losers and Lustful fuck salesmen My militant dandies All strange order of monsters Hot on the trail of the woodvine We welcome you to our procession. Here come the Comedians Look at them smile Watch them dance an Indian mile. Look at them gesture How aplomb So to gesture everyone. Words dissemble Words be quick Words resemble walking sticks. Plant them they will grow Watch them waver so. I'll always be a word man Better than a bird man. ALL HAIL THE AMERICAN NIGHT! What was that? I don't know. Sounds like guns... thunder. Ladies and gentlemen! From Los Angeles, California... The Doors! ... Well I woke up this morning Got myself a beer Well, I woke up this morning Got myself a beer Well, the future's uncertain The end is always near . . . The World on Fire . . . Taxi from Africa . . . The Grand Hotel . . . He was drunk a big party last night back, going back in all directions sleeping these insane hours I'll never wake up in a good mood again I'm sick of these stinky boots. Lament for my cock Sore and crucified I seek to know you. Acquiring soulful wisdom, You can open walls of mystery, Stripshow. How to acquire death in the morning show. TV death which the child absorbs Deathwell mystery which makes me write Slow train, the death of my cock gives life. Forgive the poor old people who gave us entry taught us god in the child's prayer in the night. Guitar player, Ancient wise satyr, Sing you ode to my cock. Caress its lament, Stiffen and guide us, we frozen. Lost cells, The knowledge of cancer, To speak to the heart And give the great gift: Words Power Trance This stable friend and the beasts of his zoo, Wild haired chicks, Women flowery in their summit, Monsters of skin. Each color connects to create the boat which rocks the race. Could any hell be more horrible than now and real? I pressed her thigh and death smiled. Death, old friend, Death and my cock are the world. I can forgive my injuries in the name of Wisdom Luxury Romance Sentence upon sentence Words are healing lament For the death of my cock's spirit Has no meaning in the soft fire. Words got me the wound and will get me well, If you believe it. All join now and lament for the death of my cock A tongue of knowledge in the feathered night. Boys get crazy in the head and suffer, I sacrifice my cock on the altar of silence. Thoughts in time and out of season ima toga josh,al i ovo je dugacko,a i kontam si da vam se ne da citat,no nevermind... ev neke slikice::: KURT...  JIMMMMOV GROB..:(((  I TO JE SVE....SEEEEEEEEE YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!::))))))))) |
- 13:13 - Komentari (34) - Isprintaj - #
Dnevnik.hr |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Opis bloga
sve i svasta!!  ...biLo vA$ j€...=)) hit Counter   ovo sam morala stavit..nas osjecki bend..wasted generation...        eto toliko od mene..
nesht o meni
zovu me::taja,rose,axl,jim... volim:gunse,doorse,izlaske,gitaru..hehehe,i jednog kjut decka..lol.. nevolim:cajke,umisljene ljude.. drustvo:tea,ena,kika,pepa,profa,anna,ivanna,ljudi s pijane,a ima ih... izlazim:gdje stignem slusam:rock,gunse,doorse,nirvanu,motley crue,white snake,bon jovi,uglavnom rock 80-tih (naravno osim doorsa) :)),i nas osjecki band WASTED GENERATION :)) naj pjesma:sweet child o mine,estranged,dont cry,light my fire,the end,chrystal ship,bed of roses,... eeev kurt.. evo malo jima..nemojte cure da vam ispadnu oke..hehehe      |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||