Ode to L.A. thinking about Brian Jone, Deceased

"I'm a resident of a city
They've just picked me to play
the Prince of Denmark

Poor Ophelia

All those ghosts he never saw
Floating to doom
On an iron candle

Come back, brave warrior
Do the dive
On another channel

Hot buttered pool
Where's Marrakesh
Under the falls
the wild storm
where savages fell out
in late afternoon
monsters of rhythm

You've left your
Nothing
to compete with
Silence

I hope you went out
Smiling
Like a child
Into the cool remnant
of a dream

The angel man
with Serpents competing
for his palms
& fingers
Finally claimed
This benevolent
Soul

Ophelia

Leaves, sodden
in silk

Chlorine
dream
mad stifled
Witness

The diving board, the plunge
The pool

You were a fighter
a damask musky muse

You were the bleached
Sun
for TV afternoon

horned-toads
maverick of a yellow spot

Look now to where it's got
You

in meat heaven
with the cannibals
& jews

The gardener
Found
The body, rampant, Floating

Lucky Stiff
What is this green pale stuff
You're made of

Poke holes in the goddess
Skin

Will he Stink
Carried heavenward
Thru the halls
of music

No Chance.

Requiem for a heavy
That smile
That porky satyr's
leer
has leaped upward

into the loam"

Jim Morrisom

Poema em homenagem a Brian Jones, resolvi colocar no original em inglês, a tradução é facil de achar-se, mais o legal é o original, ambos são do grupo "27-J" (Jim Morrison, Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin & Robert Johnson) descansem em paz.

Jim Morrisom (The Doors) & Brian Jones (The Rolling Stones)