Джим Моррисон - Боги и Новые создания
menstrual fur
Dance naked on broken
bones feet bleed stain
glass cuts cover your mind
the dry end of vacuum
boat while the people
drop lines in still pools
pull ancient trout
from the deep home. Scales
crusted gleaming green
A knife was stolen. A
valuable hunting knife
By some strange boys
from the other camp across
the Lake
* * *
Are these our friends
racing shuddering
thru the calm vales of parliament
My son will not die in the war
He will return
numbed peasant voice of Orient
fisherman
Last time you said
this was the only way
voice of tender young girl
Running speaking
infected green
jungles
consult the oracle
bitter creek
crawl
they exist on rainwater
monkey-love
mantra mate
maker of brandy
* * *
The poison isles
The poison
Take this thin granule
of evil snakeroot
from the southern
shore
way out miracle
will find thee
The chopper blazed over
inward click sure
blasted matter, made
the time bombs free
of leprous lands
spotted w/ hunger
clinging to law
Please
show us your ragged head
silted smiling eyes
calm in fire
a silky flowered shirt
edging the eyes, alive
spidery, distant
dial lies
* * *
come, calm one
into the life-try
already wifelike
latent, leathery, loose
lawless, large languid
She was a kindom-cry
legion of lewd marching
mind-men
Where are your manners
out there on the sunlit
desert
boundless glaxies of dust
cactus spines, beads
bleach stones, bottles
rust cars, stored for shaping
The new man, time-soldier
picked his way narrowly
thru the crowded ruins
of once grave city, gone
comic now w/ rats
insects of refuge
He lives in cars
goes fruitless thru
the frozen schools
finds no space
in shades of
obedience
the monitors are silenced
the great graveled guard-towers
sicken on the westward beach
so tired of watching
if only one horse were left
to ride thru the waste
a dog at his side
to sniff meat-maids
chained on the public poles
there is no more argument
in beds, at night
blackness is burned
Stare into the parlors of town
where a woman dances
in her European gown
to the great waltzes
this could be fun
to rule a wasteland
II
Cherry palms
Terrible shores
more
many more
This we know
that all are free
in the school-made
text of the unforgiven
deceit smiles
incredible hardships are suffered
by those barely able
to endure
but all will pass
lie down in green grass
smile, muse, gaze
upon her smooth
resemblance
to the mating-Queen
who it seems
is in love
w/the horseman
now, isn't that fragrant
Sir, isn't that knowing
w/a wayward careless
backward glance
