Post by TheWallsScreamedPoetry on Feb 27, 2011 17:56:47 GMT
"I left school & went down
to the beach to live.
I slept on a roof
At night the moon became
a woman's face.
I met the Spirit of Music."
A prophetic vision from Jim Morrison's rooftop sojourn before embarking on his epic journey with The Doors.
I often wonder what he saw as he stared across the television skies and out to the endless expanse of the Pacific.
What hopes and dreams did he harbour as he wandered the beach looking for Ray Manzarek.
Did they exceed his wildest castles in the air, did they live up to his imaginings or did they simply disappoint. We Doors fans always see Jim Morrison from the eyes of Manzarek/Densmore/Krieger and we forget that there was another side to this vision.
How did Jim see all this?
We get fragments from interviews and bits of flotsam and jetsam from reading his poetry but did The Doors really ever live up to the man who thought them up?
Probably not.
Did the audience ever live up to the high ideals that Morrison perceived the band would exude?
Probably not as they simply emanated the frustration he probably felt at their inability to grasp the concept that what they were witnessing was more than a simple pop concert.
He encouraged his audience to think and learn and understand and all they did was scream for Light My Fire.
The frustration of the Poet who saw himself differently from the way the world saw him eventually drowned himself in a whisky bottle and in the escape whatever drugs he could find afforded him.
Jim Morrison has never really been given the renown he sought. Instead we have elevated him to the status of a Myth and a Legend rather than a real human being with feelings and expectations and dreams.
The world he sought and the world he found himself trapped in were so diverse from one another that he seemed to just give up.
People remember him as a drunk rather than an artist.
He is seen simply as a parody of himself as a result of his own creation ‘Jim Morrison’.
The Frankenstein’s monster of a creation that he could never escape no matter how hard he tried.
Even in death he will never be free of ‘Jim Morrison’.
Did he ever think when he sat there on the roof of Dennis Jacob’s building looking out as the sun set over the Pacific that he would be remembered at all.
The man who saw Euterpe in the orb of the moon and embraced her warmth who gave himself totally for his art.
Did he ever believe that he would one day be thought of as an artist?
Did he ever think that his talents would be recognised above the crowd?
No matter what he was perceived to be on stage James Douglas Morrison in life was a humble young man who at first was unsure of himself and his ability to rise above the crowd.
He spent many hours honing and altering his words.
Shifting them and substituting them looking for the perfect word to produce the perfect feeling.
Sitting there on the roof at night under the stars never realising that one day he would himself be one of the brightest in his own particular sky.
I sometimes wonder what passed through his mind on that rooftop as he sat passively watching that concert in his head.
Did he ever imagine that he would one day be remebered?
40 years on we who were there at the time remember him even though we let him down when he needed us most.
New generations remember him as a T Shirt or a poster and as something their parents or uncles and aunts talk about in reverent hushed whispers.
Jim Morrison and by association The Doors are remembered now as possibly the most controversial band there ever was.
His band mates remember, him even though they too let him down when he needed THEM most, as an icon rather than a person.
Jim/Jimbo. All the same thing really, full of uncertainties and frailties just like the rest of us but he pushed himself forward from the crowd and stood out as something special.
But what of the man who sat on that roof and dreamed his dreams as he watched the moon and imagined it had become the Muse Of Music herself.
Did he dance with her, did they speak their secret conversations and make promises that were never delivered.
What of him?
Do we remember him or do we just remember what he created.
Do we remember the man or do we remember the monster?
Makes you think eh?
to the beach to live.
I slept on a roof
At night the moon became
a woman's face.
I met the Spirit of Music."
A prophetic vision from Jim Morrison's rooftop sojourn before embarking on his epic journey with The Doors.
I often wonder what he saw as he stared across the television skies and out to the endless expanse of the Pacific.
What hopes and dreams did he harbour as he wandered the beach looking for Ray Manzarek.
Did they exceed his wildest castles in the air, did they live up to his imaginings or did they simply disappoint. We Doors fans always see Jim Morrison from the eyes of Manzarek/Densmore/Krieger and we forget that there was another side to this vision.
How did Jim see all this?
We get fragments from interviews and bits of flotsam and jetsam from reading his poetry but did The Doors really ever live up to the man who thought them up?
Probably not.
Did the audience ever live up to the high ideals that Morrison perceived the band would exude?
Probably not as they simply emanated the frustration he probably felt at their inability to grasp the concept that what they were witnessing was more than a simple pop concert.
He encouraged his audience to think and learn and understand and all they did was scream for Light My Fire.
The frustration of the Poet who saw himself differently from the way the world saw him eventually drowned himself in a whisky bottle and in the escape whatever drugs he could find afforded him.
Jim Morrison has never really been given the renown he sought. Instead we have elevated him to the status of a Myth and a Legend rather than a real human being with feelings and expectations and dreams.
The world he sought and the world he found himself trapped in were so diverse from one another that he seemed to just give up.
People remember him as a drunk rather than an artist.
He is seen simply as a parody of himself as a result of his own creation ‘Jim Morrison’.
The Frankenstein’s monster of a creation that he could never escape no matter how hard he tried.
Even in death he will never be free of ‘Jim Morrison’.
Did he ever think when he sat there on the roof of Dennis Jacob’s building looking out as the sun set over the Pacific that he would be remembered at all.
The man who saw Euterpe in the orb of the moon and embraced her warmth who gave himself totally for his art.
Did he ever believe that he would one day be thought of as an artist?
Did he ever think that his talents would be recognised above the crowd?
No matter what he was perceived to be on stage James Douglas Morrison in life was a humble young man who at first was unsure of himself and his ability to rise above the crowd.
He spent many hours honing and altering his words.
Shifting them and substituting them looking for the perfect word to produce the perfect feeling.
Sitting there on the roof at night under the stars never realising that one day he would himself be one of the brightest in his own particular sky.
I sometimes wonder what passed through his mind on that rooftop as he sat passively watching that concert in his head.
Did he ever imagine that he would one day be remebered?
40 years on we who were there at the time remember him even though we let him down when he needed us most.
New generations remember him as a T Shirt or a poster and as something their parents or uncles and aunts talk about in reverent hushed whispers.
Jim Morrison and by association The Doors are remembered now as possibly the most controversial band there ever was.
His band mates remember, him even though they too let him down when he needed THEM most, as an icon rather than a person.
Jim/Jimbo. All the same thing really, full of uncertainties and frailties just like the rest of us but he pushed himself forward from the crowd and stood out as something special.
But what of the man who sat on that roof and dreamed his dreams as he watched the moon and imagined it had become the Muse Of Music herself.
Did he dance with her, did they speak their secret conversations and make promises that were never delivered.
What of him?
Do we remember him or do we just remember what he created.
Do we remember the man or do we remember the monster?
Makes you think eh?