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An American Prayer

by James Douglas Morrison



Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?
The ceremony is about to begin.
WAKE UP!
You can't remember where it was
Has this dream stopped?

AWAKE
Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day's divinity
First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by its quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the woolly cotton brains on infancy.
The music and voices are all around us.
Choose, they croon, the Ancient Ones
The time has come again.
Choose now, they croon,
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake.
Enter again the sweet forest,
Enter the hot dream,
Come with us,
Everything is broken up and dances.

GHOST SONG
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.

"Me and my mother and father and a grandmother and a grandfather were driving through the desert, at dawn, and a truck load of Indian workers had either hit another car, or just I don't know what happened but there were Indians scattered all over the highway, bleeding to death." "So the car pulls up and stops. That was the first time I tasted fear. I musta' been about four like a child is like a flower, his head is floating in the breeze, man." "The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking back is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead Indians... maybe one or two of 'em... were just running around freaking out, and just leaped into my soul. And they're still in there.

Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.

Indian, Indian what did you die for?
Indian says, nothing at all.

Gently they stir, gently rise.
The dead are newborn awakening
With ravaged limbs and wet souls,
Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement.
Who called these dead to dance?
Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand?
Was it the wilderness children?
Was it the ghost god himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly?
I called you up to anoint the earth.
I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin.
I called to wish you well,
To glory in self like a new monster.
And now I call on you to pray.

A MILITARY STATION IN THE DESERT
Can we resolve the past,
Lurking jaws, joints of time?
The Base
To come of age in a dry place,
Holes and caves.

My friend drove an hour each day from the mountains.
The bus gives you a hard-on with books in your lap.
Someone shot the bird in the afternoon dance show.
They gave out free records to the best couple.
Spades dance best, from the hip.

The music was new,
black polished chrome
And came over the summer
like liquid night.
The DJ's took pills to stay awake
and play for seven days.
They went to the studio
and someone knew him;
Someone knew the TV showman.
He came to your homeroom party
and played records
And when he left in the hot noon sun
and walked to his car,
We saw the chooks had written
F-U-C-K on his windshield
He wiped it off with a white rag
and smiling coolly drove away.
He's rich. Got a big car.

My gang will get you...
Scenes of rape in the arroyo
Seductions in cars, abandoned buildings.
Fights at the food stand.
The dust.
The shoes.
Open shirts and raised collars.
Bright sculptured hair.

Hey man, you want girls, pills, grass? C'mon...
I show you good time.
This place has everything. C'mon...
I show you.

Angels and sailors,
rich girls,
backyard fences, tents,
Dreams watching each other narrowly,
Soft luxuriant cars.
Girls in garages, stripped
out to get liquor and clothes,
half gallons of wine and six packs of beer.
Jumped, humped, born to suffer,
made to undress in the wilderness.

I will never treat you mean
Never start no kind of scene
I'll tell you every place and person that I've been

Always a playground instructor, never a killer,
Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over,
He maneuvered two girls in to his hotel room.
One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger
Vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican.
Poor boys thighs and buttocks scarred by a father's belt,
She's trying to rise.
Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games,
Handsome lad, dead in a car.
Confusion.
No connections.
Come 'ere.
I love you.
Peace on earth.
Will you die for me?
Eat me.
This way.
The end.

I'll always be true
Never go out, sneaking out on you, babe
If only you'll show me Far Arden again.

I'm surprised you could get it up.
He whips her lightly, sardonically, with belt.
Haven't I been through enough? she asks,
Now dressed and leaving
The Spanish girl begins to bleed;
She says her period.
It's Catholic heaven.
I have an ancient Indian crucifix around my neck,
My chest is hard and brown.
Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin,
We could plan a murder,
Or start a religion.

I'll tell you this...
No eternal reward will forgive us now
For wasting the dawn.

Back in those days everything was simpler and more confused.
One summer night, going to the pier,
I ran into two young girls.
The blonde was called Freedom,
The dark one, Enterprise.
We talked and they told me this story:
Now listen to this...I'll tell you about Texas radio and the big beat.
Soft driven, slow and mad
Like some new language,
Reaching your hand with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger.
Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god,
Wandering, wandering in hopeless night.
Out here in the perimeter there are no stars,

Out here we is stoned
Immaculate.

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 seated and 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 all right, all your friends are here.
When can I meet them?
After you've eaten.
I'm not hungry.
Uh, we meant beaten.

Silvery stream, silvery scream
Oooooh, impossible concentration.

Curses, Invocations
Weird bate-headed mongrels
I keep expecting one of you to rise.
Large buxom obese queens
Garden hogs and cunt veterans
Quaint cabbage saints
Shit hoarders and individualists
Drag strip officials
Tight lipped losers and
Lustful fuck salesmen
My militant dandies
All strange order of monsters
Hot on the trail of the woodvine
We welcome you to our procession.

Here come the Comedians
Look at them smile
Watch them dance an Indian mile.
Look at them gesture
How aplomb
So to gesture everyone.
Words dissemble
Words be quick
Words resemble walking sticks.
Plant them they will grow Watch them waver so.
I'll always be a word man
Better than a bird man.

ALL HAIL THE AMERICAN NIGHT!
What was that?
I don't know.
Sounds like guns... thunder.

Ladies and gentlemen! From Los Angeles, California... The Doors!

... Well I woke up this morning
Got myself a beer
Well, I woke up this morning
Got myself a beer
Well, the future's uncertain
The end is always near . . .

The World on Fire . . . Taxi from Africa . . . The Grand Hotel . . .
He was drunk a big party last night back, going back
in all directions sleeping these insane hours I'll never wake up
in a good mood again I'm sick of these stinky boots.

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 you ode to my cock.

Caress its 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 beasts of his zoo,
Wild haired chicks,
Women flowery 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 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,
If you believe it.

All join now and lament for the death of my cock
A tongue of knowledge in the feathered night.
Boys get crazy in the head and suffer,
I sacrifice my cock on the altar of silence.

Thoughts in time and out of season


THE HITCHHIKER
Stood by the side of the road
And leveled his thumb
In the calm calculus of reason

Hi. How you doin'? I just got back into town. L.A.
I was out on the desert for awhile.
Riders on the storm
Yeah. In the middle of it.
Riders on the storm
Right . . .
Into this house we're born
Hey, listen, man, I really got a problem.
Into this world we're thrown
When I was out on the desert, ya know,
Like a dig without a bone
An actor out on loan
I don't know how to tell you,
Riders on the storm
but, ah, I killed somebody.
There's a killer on the road
No . . .
His brain is squirming like a toad
It's no big deal, ya know,
I don't think anybody will find out about it, but . . .
Take a long holiday
just, ah . . .
Let your children play
this guy gave me a ride, and ah . . .
If you give this man a ride
started giving me a lot of trouble,
Sweet family will die
and I just couldn't take it, ya know?
Killer on the road
And I wasted him.
Yeah.

AN AMERICAN PRAYER
Do you know the warm progress
under the stars?

Do you know we exist?

Have you forgotten the keys
to the Kingdom

Have you been born yet
& are you alive?
Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages

Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests

[Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war]

We need great golden copulations

The fathers are cackling in trees

of the forest

Our mother is dead in the sea

Do you know we are being led to
slaughters by placid admirals

& that fat slow generals are getting
obscene on young blood

Do you know we are ruled by T.V.

the moon is a dry blood beast

Guerrilla bands are rolling numbers
in the next block of green vine

amassing for warfare on innocent
herdsmen who are just dying

O great creator of being

grant us one more hour to
perform our art
& perfect our lives

The moths & atheists are doubly divine
& dying
We live, we die

& death not ends it

Journey we more into the
Nightmare

Cling to life
Our passion'd flower

Cling to cunts & cocks
of despair

We got our final vision
by clap

Columbus' groin got
filled w/ green death

(I touched her thigh
& death smiled)

We have assembled inside this ancient
& insane theatre

To propagate our lust for life
& flee the swarming wisdom
of the streets

The barns are stormed

The windows kept

& only one of all the rest

To dance & save us

W/ the divine mockery
of words

Music inflames temperament

(When the true King's murderers

are allowed to roam free

a 1000 Magicians arise
in the land)

Where are the feasts

we were promised

Where is the wine

The New Wine
(dying on the vine)

resident mockery

give us an hour for magic

We of the purple glove

We of the starling flight
& velvet hour

We of arabic pleasure's breed

We of sundome & the night

Give us a creed

To believe

A night of Lust

Give us trust in

The Night

Give of color

hundred hues

a rich mandala

for me & you

& for your silky

pillowed house

a head, wisdom

& a bed

Troubled decree

Resident mockery

has claimed thee

We used to believe

in the good old days

We still receive

In little ways

The Things of Kindness

& unsporting brow

Forget & allow

Did you know freedom exists
in a school book

Did you know madmen are
running our prison

w/in a jail, w/in a gaol

w/in 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

Wow, I'm sick of doubt

Live in the light of certain

South

Cruel bindings

The servants have the power

dog-men & their mean women

pulling poor blankets over

our sailors

I'm sick of dour faces

Staring at me from the T.V.

Tower: I want roses in

my garden bower; dig?

Royal babies, rubies

must now replace aborted

Strangers in the mud

These mutants, blood-meal

fro the plant that's plowed

They are waiting to take us into
the severed garden

So you know how pale & 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
& 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

& loose obedience to a vegetable law

I will not go

Prefer a Feast of Friends

To the Giant Family





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"There are things known and things unknown and in between are The Doors..."
Jim Morrison
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