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jim morrison terimi Seçkin Bilici tarafından tarihinde eklendi

  • Lanet Herif
    Lanet Herif

    doors. bütün 70'li hippiler gibi uçuruma sürüklendi. insan annesine küfreder mi. o ediyor işte.

  • Merlin Xn
    Merlin Xn

    Emin ol biz o kuyruklu yıldızı kalbimize kazıdık.. Seni seviyoruz Jim.

  • Merlin Xn
    Merlin Xn

    O insan değil.. Yeryüzünde yaşamış bir tanrı.. O; Kertenkelelerin Kralı..

    'Ben kuyruklu bir yıldız olmak istiyorum Ray. Hani insanların birbirlerine gösterip ne kadar inanılmaz olduklarını ifade ettikleri yıldızlar gibi. Ancak sonra.. boom! Bir bakmışsın; kuyruklu yıldız ortada yok..'

    (bkz: Efsane)

  • Sezin Arıkan
    Sezin Arıkan

    Offff yaa adama çoook küçüklüümdn beri hastayım yaa. Onn kdr sapık olupta bu kdr sewilen bi insn daa yoqtur bu dnyadaa! ! Ama hojalr napalm onn kdr tatlı bi adamdsa gelmes bu dünyaya bi daa :))

  • Yin Yang
    Yin Yang

    AN AMERICAN PRAYER

    Album Poem Collection

    Poems, Lyrics, Stories and Artwork by
    James Douglas Morrison

    Is everybody in?
    Is everybody in?
    Is everybody in?
    The ceremony is about to begin.
    WAKE UP!
    You can't remember where it was
    Has this dream stopped?

    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 its quiet side
    And we laugh like soft, mad children
    Smug in the woolly cotton brains on 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.

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

    'Me and my — mother and father — and a grandmother and a grandfather — were driving through the desert, at dawn, and a truck load of Indian workers had either hit another car, or just — I don't know what happened — but there were Indians scattered all over the highway, bleeding to death.'
    'So the car pulls up and stops. That was the first time I tasted fear. I musta' been about four — like a child is like a flower, his head is floating in the breeze, man.'
    'The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking back — is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead Indians... maybe one or two of 'em... were just running around freaking out, and just leaped into my soul. And they're still in there.

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

    Indian, Indian what did you die for?
    Indian says, nothing at all.

    Gently they stir, gently rise.
    The dead are newborn awakening
    With ravaged limbs and wet souls,
    Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement.
    Who called these dead to dance?
    Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand?
    Was it the wilderness children?
    Was it the ghost god himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly?
    I called you up to anoint the earth.
    I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin.
    I called to wish you well,
    To glory in self like a new monster.
    And now I call on you to pray.

    A MILITARY STATION IN THE DESERT
    Can we resolve the past,
    Lurking jaws, joints of time?
    The Base
    To come of age in a dry place,
    Holes and caves.

    My friend drove an hour each day from the mountains.
    The bus gives you a hard-on with books in your lap.
    Someone shot the bird in the afternoon dance show.
    They gave out free records to the best couple.
    Spades dance best, from the hip.

    The music was new,
    black polished chrome
    And came over the summer
    like liquid night.
    The DJ's took pills to stay awake
    and play for seven days.
    They went to the studio
    and someone knew him;
    Someone knew the TV showman.
    He came to your homeroom party
    and played records
    And when he left in the hot noon sun
    and walked to his car,
    We saw the chooks had written
    F-U-C-K on his windshield
    He wiped it off with a white rag
    and smiling coolly drove away.
    He's rich. Got a big car.

    My gang will get you...
    Scenes of rape in the arroyo
    Seductions in cars, abandoned buildings.
    Fights at the food stand.
    The dust.
    The shoes.
    Open shirts and raised collars.
    Bright sculptured hair.

    Hey man, you want girls, pills, grass? C'mon...
    I show you good time.
    This place has everything. C'mon...
    I show you.

    Angels and sailors,
    rich girls,
    backyard fences,
    tents,
    Dreams watching each other narrowly,
    Soft luxuriant cars.
    Girls in garages, stripped
    out to get liquor and clothes,
    half gallons of wine and six packs of beer.
    Jumped, humped, born to suffer,
    made to undress in the wilderness.

    I will never treat you mean
    Never start no kind of scene
    I'll tell you every place and person that I've been

    Always a playground instructor, never a killer,
    Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over,
    He maneuvered two girls in to his hotel room.
    One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger
    Vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican.
    Poor boys thighs and buttocks scarred by a father's belt,
    She's trying to rise.
    Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games,
    Handsome lad, dead in a car.
    Confusion.
    No connections.
    Come 'ere.
    I love you.
    Peace on earth.
    Will you die for me?
    Eat me.
    This way.
    The end.

  • Yin Yang
    Yin Yang

    THE HITCHHIKER

    Stood by the side of the road
    And leveled his thumb
    In the calm calculus of reason

    Hi. How you doin'? I just got back into town. L.A.
    I was out on the desert for awhile.
    Riders on the storm
    Yeah. In the middle of it.
    Riders on the storm
    Right...
    Into this house we're born
    Hey, listen, man, I really got a problem.
    Into this world we're thrown
    When I was out on the desert, ya know,
    Like a dig without a bone
    An actor out on loan
    I don't know how to tell you,
    Riders on the storm
    but, ah, I killed somebody.
    There's a killer on the road
    No...
    His brain is squirming like a toad
    It's no big deal, ya know,
    I don't think anybody will find out about it, but...
    Take a long holiday
    just, ah...
    Let your children play
    this guy gave me a ride, and ah...
    If you give this man a ride
    started giving me a lot of trouble,
    Sweet family will die
    and I just couldn't take it, ya know?
    Killer on the road
    And I wasted him.
    Yeah.

    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

  • Hmmmmmmm
    Hmmmmmmm

    The severed garden diyorum beni bu kadar etkileyen az parça vardır. Ne deyim kapılar açık kaldı o gitti gideli

  • Zeynep Altan
    Zeynep Altan

    özel insanlardan birisi.Yaşamı algılama biçimi,doğrultusu...Kendine öz felsefesini çıplakça ortaya çıkarabilmesi,en önemlisi bir dönemi etkileyerek müziğe yansıtması...yaratıcılık.Sıkı bir fırlama :)))

  • Süyümbike Güvenç
    Süyümbike Güvenç

    'I wanna be Jim Morrison...' (Radiohead)

  • Melih Şeber
    Melih Şeber

    çookkk seneler önce trt'de film'i oynamıştı. diğer gün arkadaşla kendimizi jim morrison zannedip gezmiştik bütün gün, ohhhh uçmuştuk, the end'i dinleyin sizde uçun. Şımarmasaydı çok daha iyi işler çıkartırdı, belkide başarısının sırrı bu cozutmuş halindedir bilemem artık.

  • Onur Umut
    Onur Umut

    JIM MORRISON
    1943 - 1971

    You could say it's an accident that I was ideally suited for the work I am doing. It's the feeling of a bowstring being pulled back for 22 years and suddenly being let go. I am primarily an American, second, a Californian, third, a Los Angeles resident. I've always been attracted to ideas that were about revolt against authority. I like ideas about the breaking away or overthrowing of established order. I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos - especially activity that seems to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom - external revolt is a way to bring about internal freedom. Rather than starting inside, I start outside - reach the mental through the physical. I am a Sagittarian - if astrology has anything to do with it - the Centaur - the Archer - the Hunt - But the main thing is that we are The Doors.

    We are from the West. The whole thing is like an invitation to the West.

    The sunset - This is the end
    The night - The sea

    The world we suggest is of a new wild west. A sensuous evil world. Strange and haunting, the path of the sun, you know? Toward the end. At least for our first album. We're all centered around the end of the zodiac. The Pacific - violence and peace - the way between young and the old.

  • Onur Umut
    Onur Umut

    'cancel my subscription to the resurrection'

  • Onur Umut
  • Aylin Aslım
    Aylin Aslım

    dün akşam beraberdik, ama çok çabuk gittin...

  • Var Mısın?
    Var Mısın?

    raporlara göre kalp krizi sonucu ölmüştür fakat ölüm raporunu hazırlayan doktorun ismi daha sonra tabipler listesinde bulunamamıştır. bu yüzden jim morrisonun aşırı dozdan dolayı öldüğü söyleniyor

    ayrıca ıq sü 149 dur..einchteinden fazla dır zeki gözüküyor yazık olmuş

  • Fuldan Baran
    Fuldan Baran

    secde etmekteyim kendisine...light my fire ı söölerken ölebilirim...o sölesin ben öliim...the doors olamadılar hakkaten jim den sonra...acının kralı,lanetli kuşağın efendisi...sewiyorum kendisini...

  • Onur Umut
    Onur Umut

    'i see myself as an intelligent, sensitive human, with the soul of a clown which forces me to blow it at the most important moments.' demis, demek ki olayin farkindaymis.*

  • Onur Umut
    Onur Umut

    doorsun efsanevi vokali...öyleki ünü ve karizmasi grubu bi hayli geçmistir ama bence en ilginç yani gerçek bi dahi olmasi ve bu yüzden de iyice sapitip çiygin bi hayat sürmesidir.hatta tanrilar yeni yaratiklar diye bi kitabi vardir ki 'sevgilisi' pamela tarafindan derlenmis ve düzeltilmistir.onun yazdiklarindan deniz ve kan fobisi oldugunu ve müzik kadar sinemayla da ilgili oldugunu görüyoz.mesela der ki 'filmler yapay olarak döllenmis ölü fotograflar bütünüdür', 'tanrilar hayalerle uyusturur bizi.bize kitaplar,konserler,galeriler,sovlar,sinemalar verirler.özellikle de sinemalar...sanat yoluyla kafamizi karistirir ve kendi köleligimizin içinde kör ederler bizi.sanat,hücre duvarlarimizi süsler,sessiz ve bir örnek tutar bizi

  • Onur Umut
    Onur Umut

    eq'sunun 145 olduğu ve einstein'den daha zeki olduğu söylentisi wardır. doğrudur... beyni halen saklanmaktadır

  • Onur Umut
    Onur Umut

    Aşırılığın yolu,yabancı bir ülkede insanların üzerine içki ve sigara artıkları bıraktıkları pis bir mezarda son buluyor.
    the end ve when music is over ı yaratan adam
    Sanat tanrısı.siyah beyaz bir herif.

  • Meral Atilla
    Meral Atilla

    şairane ruhun müzikalle anlatımın siyah derili şeytanı..

  • Mustafa Adil
  • Canan Aktürk
    Canan Aktürk

    şaibeli ölümünden sonra.aslında sevenleri inanmadılar öldüğüne.tek karısı görmüştü ölüsünü ve o da 2yıl sonra öldü.menejeri tabutunu görmüştü ve açma gereği duymadığını açıkladı.raporu yazan doktorun izine de rastlanmadı kimliğine de..
    o doors grubunun olmazsa olmazıydı..zaten ondan sonra asla The Doors olamadılar..jim morrisona dair çok şey okudum,ama en sevdiren onun müziğindeki kopuşalrımdı...

  • Hüseyin Deniz
    Hüseyin Deniz

    BİLDİKLERİMİZ VE BİLEMEDİKLERİMİZ VARDIR BİDE BUNLARIN ARASINDA KAPILAR... FARKLI Bİ KİŞİLİK. KENDİNİ BULMUŞ OLDUĞUNU VARSAYDIĞIM İNSANLARDAN BİRİ.

  • Cem Nizamoglu
    Cem Nizamoglu

    - SON DAN DAN SESLERİ -
    (Jim Morrison’a)

    Cisimler vuruyor gözüme,
    Hiç durmayacak gibi.
    Bir bebek ağlıyor,
    Hiç susmayacak gibi.

    Bir uçustu yürüdüğüm kaldırımlar
    Bir arzuydu koştuğum ölüme
    Terastaki yıldızlardı hayallerimin fazlalığı
    Doyumu ve açlığı inkar eden asilik

    Duygular ve zevkler
    Bir adam geliyor Eski Yunan’dan,
    Filozofların beynini bxxxrmiş.
    Adını söyle dedim, adını,
    Sadece baktı ölüme ve gitti.

    Bir rüyadı göründüğü
    Oydu elinde tuttuğu aşk alevlerini
    Bir bilmeceydi gözleri
    Senfoninin zehri

    Yaşamın ve ölümün klavuzu
    Bulunduğum ve göründüğüm
    Bir ruh kaçıran adam

    nizam 1992

  • Seçkin Bilici
    Seçkin Bilici

    grow my hair..grow my hair i am jim morrison................