old writings, old loss

Looking through the drawers of love
I came across this poem for a friend
who OD'd back in '85
I still miss him,and many others

Dennis

why didn't you watch it?
I hate you for dying
Why did you have to leave me here so alone
I miss your happy smile even if your
con was always your own

no longer to party, no longer to share
in my bitterness, i hate that i care.
so easy to mourn you
so hard to let go
I am reluctant to let my pain show.

It was a dark lonely love
alone that we shared
But in our own ways
we knew that we cared

Yet no matter how much i deny it
nothing i feel
will change what is true.

I wait along with the many
for the rising of the few
so i may again
be with you.

I think this is an excellent example of the
both sentimental and perhaps genuine
love we feel for our friends,
and on the impact
of drug abuse,
suicide, and death.

Exploitation of Soul

drugs,
sex,
food
media
being right

eclipsed
by
ideas,
religions
political power
violence
 
Arms'n "defense" industry,
oil, lobbying, legal drugs;
 alcohol, tobacco,
pizza, prozac
computer games

We operate the largest prison
system in the world.
and yet we imagine ourselves free

That people will make reasonable
choices in their long term interest is a far more risky
venture than chancing  their foolishness may
lead to and opportunity for learning.

Recovery is confronting the
addictions that destroy not only family's,
but countries, forests and ice caps.
  the ones we buy through hierarchy

 intoxicants are part of what makes us
not only human, but creative and responsible to heal
necessary for the flu, chicken soup, made with love
there's some of the best drugs of all.

whatever we use
is benign in comparison:
 to the inherent
violence of capitalism:
exploitation
of the Soul

Time

Writing a bit on another project
you come across an old song
i've been listening to this
since i was 9. it's weird to
hear Morison say the same
words today.

Soft Parade

When I was back there in seminary school
There was a person there
Who put forth the proposition
That you can petition the Lord with prayer
Petition the lord with prayer
Petition the lord with prayer
You cannot petition the lord with prayer!

Can you give me sanctuary
I must find a place to hide
A place for me to hide

Can you find me soft asylum
I can't make it anymore
The Man is at the door

Peppermint, miniskirts, chocolate candy
Champion sax and a girl named Sandy
There's only four ways to get unraveled
One is to sleep and the other is travel, da da
One is a bandit up in the hills
One is to love your neighbor 'till
His wife gets home

Catacombs
Nursery bones
Winter women
Growing stones
Carrying babies
To the river

Streets and shoes
Avenues
Leather riders
Selling news
The monk bought lunch

Ha ha, he bought a little
Yes, he did
Woo!
This is the best part of the trip
This is the trip, the best part
I really like
What'd he say?
Yeah!
Yeah, right!
Pretty good, huh
Huh!
Yeah,
I'm proud to be a part of this number

Successful hills are here to stay
Everything must be this way
Gentle streets where people play
Welcome to the Soft Parade

All our lives we sweat and save
Building for a shallow grave
Must be something else we say
Somehow to defend this place
Everything must be this way
Everything must be this way,

The Soft Parade has now begun
Listen to the engines hum
People out to have some fun
A cobra on my left
Leopard on my right,

The deer woman in a silk dress
Girls with beads around their necks
Kiss the hunter of the green vest
Who has wrestled before
With lions in the night

Out of sight!
The lights are getting brighter
The radio is moaning
Calling to the dogs
There are still a few animals
Left out in the yard
But it's getting harder
To describe sailors
To the underfed

Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure
What got us this far
To this mild equator?

We need someone or something new
Something else to get us through, yeah, c'mon

Callin' on the dogs
Callin' on the dogs
Oh, it's gettin' harder
Callin' on the dogs
Callin' in the dogs
Callin' all the dogs
Callin' on the gods

You gotta meet me
Too late, baby
Slay a few animals
At the crossroads
Too late
All in the yard
But it's gettin' harder
By the crossroads
You gotta meet me
Oh, we're goin', we're goin great
At the edge of town
Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure
Havin' a good time
Got to come along
What got us this far
To this mild equator?
Outskirts of the city
You and I
We need someone new
Somethin' new
Somethin' else to get us through
Better bring your gun
Better bring your gun
Tropic corridor
Tropic treasure
We're gonna ride and have some fun

When all else fails
We can whip the horse's eyes
And make them sleep
And cry

Jim Morrison~1969




Stay Free