I LOVE HIS WORDS……
Jim's poetry is critised usually by people who have never even read his words. He is critised as pretentious, whereas jagger never was… And Lennon acted like a total prat attention seeker with his bed inns cringe worthy… I notice in the UK where I live Morrison is either regarded as a true genius or else an arrogant drunk who wrote infantile crap… Rock music especially back in the 60s was always considered low brow, a passing fad, and not to be taken seriously. whereas poetry, theatre were high art and the idea that Morrison could be accepted as a poet would of been laughable.. The fact is that Morrison is at least in the top 5 poets of his generation. Perhaps the best, his lyrics are also poetic. The End and When then the music's over… He was 21 when he was writing that stuff… The first 2 doors albums and the debut velvet underground album will never age because the lyrics of Morrison are so true to his spirit. He gave everything. When I read Coleridge, view van gough, and read Jim Morrison I feel they were not the type of artist who sits for hours or days trying to achieve greatness.. Morrison, was a fiery artist and I can imagine him doing very little but when the fire comes you are almost like a conduit and the creation will just flow through you… All the greats found the creative process would just come through when it was ready, those who slave away at their art lose their passion and. Make it into a chore. Which is why most artists do their best work in their youth because they are creating for it's own reward
Jim spoke the truth.not many people could handle that.why he's gone.
To be totally missed understood
Nothing cool dying young there's a message here pay attention people sad play
What a waste are the gods jealous are they trying to say something and we just don't listen
Erik Satie – Gymnopédies
Jim really takes us somewhere in this one.
Where the fuck is he going?
It doesn't matter. We are all going.
see you soon love.
Forget Ashley!! m.f.refusd to help me get a crappy couch!
Check out my Tupelo Tornado Chase : Let’s make Jim Real ~ He shall never die. But, what would he want us to live for?
Yes who are our true friends
Who composed that music beautiful
Where can I find the lyrics
I love him and I hope he is happy up in heaven.
Jim's been sighted @ the thirsty nickel
Great songs from one of all time poet I believe Jim is one of the top 3 poets of all time listen to his words very powerful a huge fan of Jim from NJ…
back to the Walton's folks
What is the background music called?
Actually my father may have meant SUN.
my safe niche
love it when talk this way
Name of this poem?
I love this poem,but for the life of me I wish I could understand what does it mean.Such a vast and sort of sacred understanding as if he had accired some hidden knowledge that had brought him grife .
Rip my cousin and my brother, Michael Thomas Arellano.
And so I say to youThe silk handkerchief was embroidered in China or Japan behind the steel curtain and now one can cross the borderline without proper credentials. This is to say that we are all sensate and occasionally sad,and if every partner in crime were to incorporate promises in this programme the land might end…and all our friends would follow another programme. Who are our friends? (I know you love me to talk this way)Are they solemn and slow?Do they have great desire?Or are they one of the multitude who….walk….. doubting …..their impossible regretCertainly, things happen, and reoccur, and continue as promised. All of ushave found a safe nitch where we can store up riches and talk to our fellows on the same premise of disaster.
But this will not do! No, this will never do……!There are continents and shoreswhich beseech our understanding. Seldom have we been so slow
Seldom have we been so far
My only wish is to see Far Arden again …… (and this next part will be done in a woman's voice)
The truth is on his chest. The cellular excitement has totally inspired our magic bedroom. And now for an old trip I'm tired….of the night.I want the old forms to reassure their sexual pool. (My friend is just……you know)
And this morning before I sign off,I would like to tell you aboutTexas Radio and the big beat.It moves into the perimeter of yourSacred sincere and dedicated smile,Like a con Veteran of the psychic war. He was no general for he was not old. He was no privatefor he could not be…sold. He was only a man, and hisDedication extended to the last degree. Poor pretentious soldier …
One of the best song writer all timer miss ya alot Jim
27 years on earth…. Mind blowing.
Just plain genius—- one of the hands down most brilliant, real, true to himself people ever- a visionary, darkly creative, not pretentious either with his 149 IQ never felt the need to show off or be a know it all… he was known as a true friend who was deeply sensitive and compassionate, listening to him talk for just a brief time feel I learned more than probably my whole six years in college! Damm… wherever he is hope he got to find the peace and genuine life he sought
My freedom manxoxo
I found this quote in a book all poets can relate to… "From the wounded soul, comes poetry and music. In return, music and poetry heals the soul." From the book: "Midnight Writings by a Distant Mind Lost in Time." Check it out, it can be found on amazon. It was a great read.
Mornin' DADDY! 🍓🍒
Its niche not nitch..its a 17 century french word and should be pronounced kneeshh.Morrisons poetry is really prose..musings..Very nice prose, but lacking poetic structure.
And so I say to you, one can funkt. Funkt. We shplit forengee. Can pick the. Nose. Pickt it. The anus guns spat shit on the water. He rose up and thought. Then he decided it wasn't. So he lain back down. I fell in a field of asparagus. I cooked it in butter. Slave ships braved the waves. 200 black men bellowdecks. The waves tumbled over the deck. The captain ate friend chickadees and thought. I'm getting off boat before it flies to Jupiter. Jupiter needs slaves 2. The captain thought. Someone past the salt. And it was good. A sea monster wrapped its tentacles around the large vessel. 200 blak man cry in agony as the hull split. And the monster thought. Someone past the salt. A brave young boy camped on the edge of a tall cliff. He fell. Ded. I ain't ded.
He s not dark at all he isn't scorpion
this is the minecraft theme song
Best line of the poem "Who are our friends?"🤔
So is this an actual poem? Or did you piece it together? I can't find it anywhere else…
What a beatiful Voice and poem
Far Arden! Beautiful poem!
This is much better than any high costing therapy session….
this simon ekendahl doesn't know how to mix the piano volume with jims poem. He destroys JIm carrey, I mean, morrison.
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