Jim Morrison – “Dry Water”

May 6, 2009 at 6:35 pm (Jim Morrison, Poetry & Literature)

The velvet fur of religion
The polish of knife handle & coin
The universe of organic gears
or microscope mechanical
embryo metal doll
The night is a steel machine
grinding its slow stained wheels
The brain is filled w/clocks, & drills
& water down drains
Knife-handle, thick blood
like the coin & cloth
they rub & the skin they love
to touch

the graveyard, the tombstone,
the gloomstone & runestone
The sand & the moon, mating
deep in the Western night
waiting for the escape
of one of our gang
The hangman’s noose is a
silver sluice bait
come-on man
your meat is hanging
on the wing of the raven
man’s bird, poet’s soul

the thin rustle of weeds
the voice comes from faraway
inside, awaiting its birth
in a cool room, on tendril bone
The insane free chummy cackle
of infants in a ballroom, of a
family of friends around
a table, laden w/feast-food
soft guilty female laughter
the bar-room, the men’s room
people assemble to establish
armies & find their foe
& fight

Clustered in watchful terror
by vine-growth, the hollow bush
dry cancerous wells
We awoke before dawn, slipped
into the canyon

Noon schoolyard screamed
w/play, the lunch hour ending
ropes & balls slapped hard at
cement sand, the female land
was bright, all swelling to degree
most comfortless & guarding

A record noise shot out
& stunned the earth. The music
had been bolted w/new sound.
Run, run the end of repose
an anthem has churned
the bad guys are winning.

Silver shaken in the gloom
I left her

Trees waste & sway forever

Marble porch & sylvan frieze
Down on her knees

She begs the spider-king to wed her
Slides into bed

He turns her over

There is a leather pouch
that’s full of silver

It spills like water

She left
And took the coins I gave her.

As to the drowning man
hoarse whisper
invokes, on the edge,
an arroyo
Sangre de Christo

Violence in a time of plenty

There is one deaf witness
on the bank, the shore
leaning in finery against
a ruined wall
as Jesus did. Red livid lips,
pale flesh withdrawn from
ragged dress, pit of the past
& secrets unveiled in the
scarred chalk wall

When, often, one is not deluged
by rain, 3 drops suffice
The war is over there
I am neither doctor nor saint
Christ or soldier
Now, friends, don’t look at me
sadly ranting like some
incomprehensible child
I know by my breath of what
I speak, & what I’ve seen
needs telling.

Please, freeze!
Danger near.
A message has started its path
to the heart of the brain
A thin signal is on its way
An arrow of hope, predicting rain
A death-rod bearing pain

I will not come again
I will not come again
into the swirl
The bitter wine-soaked
stallion eats the seed,
all labor is a lie;
no vice is kindled in
these loins to melt
or vie w/any strong
particulating smile.
Leave sundry stones alive.

Now that you have gone
all alone
the desert to explore
& left me here alone

the calmness of the town
where a girl in black
gets in a car
& searches numbly
for her keys;

Now that you have gone
or strayed away-

I sit, & listen to the hiss
of traffic & invoke
into this burned & gutted
room some ghost, some
vague resemblance of a time

Off-on, on and off,
like one long sick
electric dream.
This state is confused
state. Out there everyone
is greedy for love.

They will drain her life
like warm connectors,
plug into her soul
From every side & melt
her form for me.

But I deserve this,
Greatest cannibal of all.
Some tired future.
Let me sleep.
Get on w/the disease.

In this dim cave
we can go no further.
Here money is key
to smooth age. Horses,
givers of guilt. Great
bags of gold.

I want obedience!

We examine this ancient
& insane theatre, obscene
like luxuriant churches

I confess
to scarves
cool floors
stroked curtain

The actors are twice-blessed
before us. This is
too serious & severe.

Great mystery!
Timeless passion
patterned in stillness.

Sex for you
was thread
which binds
us even now
on this pale

To the poet
& cover-girl,
photo in color,
to armies
that join,
out on a desert,
& to Samson
& all his
bound quiet
now w/exotic
of dusk, in
& N. African

The bazaar is crowded
as dancers thrive.
Snake-wreaths & pleasures.
I take you to a low cave
called “Calipah”.

Stand there listening
you will hear them
tiny shapes just beyond
the moon
Star-flys, jarts,
dismal fronds
stirring ape-jaws striving
to make the morning
mail call

Cry owl.
Hark to the wood-vine.
Suckle-snake crawls, gnawing

I know you.
The one who left to go
warning. Wishless now
& sullen. Transfer

Steal me a peach
from the orange tree

She fell.

What are you doing
w/your hand on her

She fell, mam.

Give her to me.

Yes, mam.

Go tell the master
what you’ve done.

They killed him.


Going up the stairs
to his cell.

A shot-gun blast
Behind the back.


Untrampled footsteps
Borderline dreams
Occasion for sinners
alive if it seems
given to wander
alone at the shore
wanton to whisper
I am no more
Am as my heart beats
live as I can
wanton to whisper
faraway sands


Now come into my pretty isle
My weary westward wanderer
Faraway is as it seems
& so alone shall shelter
Come along unto my sails
as weary islands go
prosper merry as I went
I shall no more the sailor
Shall I ho the sailor


Where were you when I needed you?
Where indeed but in some sheltered
Sturdy heaven; wasted, broken
sadly broke & one thin thing to get us thru


Urchin crawl broke
spenders bleeders all
brew North
stained lot
he was lost
out on an aircraft
high above
long awkward brewer’s
shelters breed

this ugly crew
our poisoned jet
god get us love & get
us speed
To get us home again
Crippled by people
cut by nothing
Public housing
the incredible damage
can be cured


She’s my girl friend:
I wouldn’t tell her
Name but I think
you already know her
Square fire insect
marble saffron intro
demi-rag in flames

it’s the same game
whether you call it
by her real name


She lives in the city
under the sea
Prisoner of pirates
prisoner of dreams
I want to be w/her
want her to see

The things I’ve created
sea-shells that bleed
Sensitive seeds
of impossible warships

Dragon-fly hovers
& wavers & teases
The weeds & his wings
are in terrible fury


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