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[judecorp]

Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.

(Jim Morrison)

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Re:

[judecorp.livejournal.com]

I was always fond of:

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 in a cool 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.


(I just love him)