To Morrison

Something I wrote for the literary magazine at my school. It's an ode to Jim Morrison of course.

Haunting words of the ghost god,

Leaving us poetry within song.

His words cascade in me,

Gently caressing my soul.

Causing me to mourn for one I’ve never known.

 

These words envelope me

With their separate set of Beats.

A pulse of its own.

He only dreamed this

And I am but a figment of that

Dream.

 

His words a

Premonition

Heard in a still night.

 

To be born into His

Mismatched poetry.

Dancing wildly with a chorus

Of wolves, which whimper

Weep at the foot of the Alpha.

 

For all poetry has

Wolves in it and

He has become one stronger than

Ghost Gods and Shamans,

Than Kings or Highways…

Reviews

[Michael X]

wow, I don't know much about Morrison, this poem is awesome, and the
cause blankets the artful intention of the expression, loved it.

[Chris]

A time of Giants and shadows...