Jim Morrison’s 5 Most Beautiful Poems
Jim Morrison and the Doors getting interviewed, 1968 - Michael 1620 / Youtube
The Doors in the Jim Morrison era were at the peak of their prime. Morrison was the center of their attention; he was an enigmatic poet who championed an ethereal nature, and it was this aura of obscurity that helped raise his talent to the level of one of the counterculture’s most iconic figures. You’d be surprised to know that the Lizard King (Morrison’s alter ego) was surprisingly a great poet; here are 5 poems of his to prove that claim.
A Feast of Friends
Morrison seems to be making an allusion to the afterlife in one of his most incoherent works.
“Wow, I’m sick of doubt Live in the light of certain South Cruel bindings.
“The servants have the power dog-men and their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors (And where were you in our lean hour) Milking your moustache or grinding a flower?
“I’m sick of dour faces Staring at me from the TV Tower, I want roses in my garden bower; dig? Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted Strangers in the mud These mutants, blood-meal for the plant that’s plowed.
“They are waiting to take us into the severed garden Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you’ve brought to bed Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven’s claws.
“No more money, no more fancy dress This other kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest and loose obedience to a vegetable law. I will not go Prefer a Feast of Friends To the Giant Family.”
This odd poem is Morrison’s take on consumer culture.
“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 were seated and were 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 alright, all your friends are here. When can I meet them? After you’ve eaten I’m not hungry. Uh, we meant beaten. Silver stream, silvery scream. Oooooh, impossible concentration.”
When compared to the other works on the list, this short poem stands out because of the optimism it expresses and the way it mimics the hippie movement’s key ideals.
“Did you know freedom exists In school books Did you know madmen are Running our prisons.
“Within a jail, within a gaol
“Within a white free protestant Maelstrom
“We’re perched headlong On the edge of boredom We’re reaching for death On the end of a candle
“We’re trying for something That’s already found us.”
This poem is the simplest on the list since Morrison just assumes the persona of a powerful person and explores the implications of that assumption.
“I can make the earth stop in its tracks. I made the blue cars go away. I can make myself invisible or small.
“I can become gigantic and reach the farthest things. I can change the course of nature. I can place myself anywhere in space or time.
“I can summon the dead. I can perceive events in other worlds, in my deepest inner mind, and in the minds of others.
Morrison says that his pen** “died” symbolically after a frustrating lack of sexual activity.
“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 your ode to my cock Caress it’s 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 beast of his zoo Wild haired chicks Women flowering 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 the 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 I you believe it.
“All join now and lament the death of my cock A tounge of knowledge in the feathered night Boys get crazy in the head and suffer I sacrifice my cock on the altar of silence.”