An American Prayer

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Aug 18, 2005
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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 -James Douglas Morrison