Jim Morrison The Lizard King 1943 - 1971
Jim Morrison











The Lizard King
1943 - 1971 poetry stories
  50
  •  
  1
  •   4 comments
Share

profesdeadpoets
profesdeadpoets Poetry I love.
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
Thanks to @jbo for reminding me of this brilliant poet.

Jim Morrison The Lizard King 1943 - 1971

Poet, singer, song writer, and lead vocalist for the band The Doors.

Celebration of the Lizard

Lions in the street & roaming Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming A beast caged in the heart of a city The body of his mother Rotting in the summer ground. He fled the town.

He went down South And crossed the border Left the chaos & disorder Back there Over his shoulder.

One morning he awoke in a green hotel W/a strange creature groaning beside him. Sweat oozed from its shiny skin. Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin.

Wake up! You can't remember where it was. Had this dream stopped? The snake was pale gold glazed & shrunken. We were afraid to touch it. The sheets were hot dead prisons. And she was beside me, old, She's, no; young. Her dark red hair. The white soft skin.

Now, run to the mirror in the bathroom, Look! She's coming in here. I can't live thru each slow century of her moving. I let my cheek slide down The cool smooth tile Feel the good cold stinging blood. The smooth hissing snakes of rain…

~ Once I had a little game I liked to crawl back in my brain I think you know the game I mean I mean the game called "Go Insane"

Now you should try this little game Just close your eyes forget your name forget the world, forget the people and we'll erect a different steeple.

This little game is fun to do. Just close your eyes, no way to lose And I'm right here, I'm going too Release control, we're breaking through

~~~ Way back deep into the brain Way back past the realm of pain Back where there's never any rain And the rain falls gently on the town And over the heads of all of us

And in the labyrinth of streams beneath Quiet unearthly presence of Nervous hill dwellers in the gentle hills around Reptiles abounding Fossils, caves, cool air heights

Each house repeats a mold Windows rolled A beast car locked in against morning All now sleeping Rugs silent, mirrors vacant

Dust blind under the beds of lawful couples Wound in sheets And daughters, smug with semen Eyes in their nipples

Wait! There's been a slaughter here Don't stop to speak or look around Your gloves and fan are on the ground We're getting out of town We're going on the run And you're the one I want to come!

Not to touch the earth, not to see the sun Nothing left to do but run, run, run Let's run, let's run House upon the hill, moon is lying still Shadows of the trees witnessing the wild breeze Come on, baby, run with me Let's run

Run with me, run with me, run with me Let's run The mansion is warm at the top of the hill Rich are the rooms and the comforts there Red are the arms of luxuriant chairs And you won't know a thing till you get inside

Dead president's corpse in the driver's car The engine runs on glue and tar Come on along, not going very far To the east to meet the Czar Run with me, run with me, run with me Let's run

Some outlaws live by the side of a lake The minister's daughter's in love with the snake Who lives in a well by the side of the road Wake up, girl! We're almost home Sun, sun, sun Burn, burn, burn Moon, moon, moon I will get you soon…soon…soon!

I am the Lizard King I can do anything

We came down the rivers and highways We came down from forests and falls We came down from Carson and Springfield We came down from Phoenix enthralled

And I can tell you the names of the kingdom I can tell you the things that you know Listening for a fistful of silence Climbing valleys into the shade

For seven years I dwelt in the loose palace of exile Playing strange games with the girls of the island Now I have come again to the land of the fair And the strong and the wise

Brothers and sisters of the pale forest Children of night Who among you will run with the hunt?

Now night arrives with her purple legion Retire now to your tents and to your dreams Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth I want to be ready

*** Jim Morrison born: December 8, 1943 Died: July 7, 1971 As a poet and songwriter, he was one of the biggest influences of my young life. He died of a drug overdose when I was 15.

Links to some of his work are in the comments, including a link to him performing the poem included here.

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store
COMMENTS (4)
SHOUTOUTS (1)