She lives in the city under the sea

She lives in the city

Ela vive na cidade

under the sea

sob o mar

Prisoner of pirates

Prisioneira de piratas

prisoner of dreams

prisioneira de sonhos

I want to be w/ her

Eu quero estar c/ ela

want her to see

quero que ela veja

The things I’ve created

As coisas que eu criei

sea-shells that bleed

conchas marinhas que sangram

Sensitive seeds

Sementes sensíveis

of impossible warships

de navios de guerra impossíveis

James Douglas Morrison

Newborn Awakening - An American Prayer - poem by James Douglas Morrison

Geopoliticus Child Watching the Birth of the New Man - Salvador Dali

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 You To Wish You Well

To Glory In Self Like A New Monster

And Now I Call You To Pray

poem by James Douglas Morrison

The Movie - An American Prayer - poem by James Douglas Morrison

The Persistence of Memory - Salvador Dali

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 Were 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 Alright, All Your Friends Are Here

When Can I Meet Them?

After You've Eaten

I'm Not Hungry

Uh, We Meant Beaten

Silver Stream, Silvery Scream

Oooooh, Impossible Concentration.

poem by James Douglas Morrison

Stoned Immaculate - An American Prayer - poem by James Douglas Morrison

Perseus and Andromeda - Frederick Leighton

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 One Was Called Freedo

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 Head With The Cold, Sudden Fury Of A Divine Messenger

Let Me Tell You About Heartache And The Loss Of God

Wandering, Wandering In Hopless Night

Out Here In The Perimeter There Are No Stars

Out Here We Is Stoned

Immaculate.

poem by James Douglas Morrison

Babylon Fading - An American Prayer - poem by James Douglas Morrison

Vision of Fausto - Luis Ricardo Faléro

Then we hear a whistle like a bison's pipe

And the carnival immediately begins

Gradually mixing rain,

Thunder

Bullfight

Football

Playground

War

Penny-arcade

Babylon Fading...

James Douglas Morrison

Dawn's Highway - An American Prayer - poem by James Douglas Morrison

French versus Indian - Unknown Artist

Indians Scattered On Dawn's Highway Bleeding
Ghosts Crowd The Young Child's Fragile Eggshell Mind.


Me And My -Ah- 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 Just 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.


Blood In The Streets In The Town Of New Haven
Blood Stains The Roofs And The Palm Trees Of Venice
Blood In My Love In The Terrible Summer
Bloody Red Sun Of Phantastic L.A.


Blood Screams Her Brain As They Chop Off Her Fingers
Blood Will Be Born In The Birth If A Nation
Blood Is The Rose Of Mysterious Union
Blood On The Rise, It's Following Me.


Indian, Indian What Did You Die For?
Indian Says, Nothing At All.

James Douglas Morrison

Angels And Sailors - An American Prayer - poem by James Douglas Morrison

The Univited Guest - Eleanor Brickdale

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 Manouvered Two Girls Into His Hotel Room
One A Friend, The Other, The Young One, A Newer Stranger
Vaguely Mexican Or Puerto Rican
Poor Boys Thighs And Buttock Scarred By A Father's Belt
She's Trying To Rie
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 You'll Only 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.

James Douglas Morrison

Ghost Song - An American Prayer - poem by James Douglas Morrison

                                            "The Awakening of Adonis" by John William Waterhouse

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 and cooled jeweled moon  
Couples naked race down by it's quiet side  
And we laugh like soft, mad children  
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of 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.  
  
Indians scattered,   
On dawn's highway bleeding  
Ghosts crowd the young child’s,   
Fragile eggshell mind

James Douglas Morrison