Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Poem from 'Notebook', Jim Morrison

.

Scour the mind w/diamond
brushes. Cleanse into Mandalas.
Memory keeps us wicked & warm.
The Time temple. Who'll go 1st?
Cloaked figures huddled by walls.
A head moves clocklike slowly.
I'm coming. Wait for me.

Jim Morrison



note: little pieces of Jim's poetry will be scattered throughout this blog. If you would like to read more of Morrison, scroll down to the bottom of this site below and eat your heart out.

Jim Morrison


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