Sunday, 4 September 2016

"Free now of Space & time free to dissolve in the streaming summer- Laughter & young voices in the mts"...-Jim Morrison

"A pair of Wings
High winds of Karma


Laughter & young voices  
in the mts."


"You parade thru the sof summer
We watch your eager rifle decay
Your wilderness
Your teeming emptiness
Pale forests on verge of light decline

More of miracles
More of your magic arms"

I got the opportunity to Visit the Ancient spiritual sights of great wisdom-the mountains, not mentioning where they were I will like to say that it is within us that the truth resides. Jim's poetry I believe is the truest example of the face of divinity, as it is a highly spiritual exercise, discrete attention and observance that can attune oneself to such poetic imagination. Arriving in fragments and imageries it explains the fragmented compounded nature of existence, it is an art of self introspection occurring silently within the poet as he tries to see himself and all objects around him in a variety of perspectives when perception turns into apperceiving, true cognizance dawns- the vision is merged the delusion dissolved. Brilliance in its wholeness, grandeur of the mountains and the expanse of sea all appear in his woven patterns of words, lattices of syllables creating a spectacle, a myriad form of dreams as reality more real than what you can see or feel. As it is eternally there to be there and will always be.

Urge to come to terms with the Outside, by absorbing, interiorizing it. I won't come out, you must come into me. Into my womb-garden where i peer out. Where i can construct a universe within the skull, to rival the real.

(Windows work two ways,
 mirrors one way.)

You never walk through mirrors
or swim through windows.

Cherry palms
Terrible shores
& 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

now, isn't that fragrant
Sir, isn't that knowing
w/a wayward careless
backward glance

                                       -Jim Morrison

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