The following poetry was posted on The Lycaeum, a psychedelic meeting place on the Web. TangleFairy posted "Ode To Jim Morrison" first, the others submitted their works as a reaction to it. Whether they were created spontaneously (as Bozo's certainly was) or drawn out of drawers for the occasion (as Mojo's / Jim's) - who knows? Who, indeed, cares, when such a nicely tangled huxpoetic mojo rises?


Ode To Jim Morrison by TangleFairy

Vision West
The weaning toward Individuality

The tender Woman—comfort there
Better know she’s for thy mangood, becoming
And the children following
Living Innocence

We sure miss you sweet Billy
Been so long we seen your face
Hope you’re w/ Jim, your creator
We love you, come home

Dear boys of tragic rebellion
Come back and do another dive on
Our channel of kingdom-try
Swim here w/ your fishes (party colored)

Think I’ll do a survey
Of those beatific experiences
And compare them w/ the
Blessed poverty and persecution of the Saints

It is certain were human
Together trying for joy-freedom
Probing seen & unseen realities
Of this mind & earthworld

Oats & goat’s milk was the fuel
For body of Scottish Christians
Or thought born of meat & wine
All evolving to become divine

The liqueur goes to work quickly on the brain
Of those who are escaping reality
I have more bottles to put them in

That’s Jim
He came back, he’s here
Go to bed
Go to sleep



Replied to by Mojo, with Jim's own words

Cherry palms
Terrible shores
& more
& many more
This we know
that all are free
in the school-made
text of the unforgiven

deceit smiles
incredible hardships are suffered
by those barely able
to endure

but all will pass
lie down in green grass
& smile, and muse, & gaze
upon her smooth
to the mating Queen
who it seems
is in love
w/ the horseman

now, isnt that fragrant
Sir, isnt that knowing
w/ a wayward careless
backward glance

Los Angeles, The United States, Hawaii


Spun on by Huxpoet

having entered the world
like a sick clown
that blows it; at the
most crucial moment
like a coyote with a huge acme
boulder comin down on him
at a thousand dimensions per sec
with that upsidedown look on ma face
that mountain shadow rushin toward
my upturned snout

having entered the clown face madhouse
at the end of dreamtime...cast all crap
creeds at the door; gets yo ticket punched
out; takes you chance, open you mind

what ya gots to lose?
what you gots to choose
on the way to the infinite night
dream the dreams at the ancient gate
let your inhibitions crumple into nothing
going down that luminious hole
devilish masks fall away on either side
you is on the wild kali yuga ride...

the hell cycles slowely desolve
enter the shadow language dance
end objects conjure you; you go
through the core opening door

of perception...huxpoet has arrived


Ridculed by Bozo

The mosquito awoke before sunset
she put her wings on
she took a swig from the ancient blood-vessel
and she buzzed on down the creek
She came to the farm where the cattle lived
she paid a visit to the pigsty
and she buzzed on down the creek

She came to a door
and she flew inside
"Yes fly?"
"I'm a mosquito!
I want to


Continued by Huxpoet

...so THE END played for the umpteenth time
and i was still very stoned on orange sunshine
THE END...revolving in my brain like the last
song that ever was, ever could be, ever would want to be;
all 11 magick minutes of it,
psychedelicising every cell on my brain,

i'm breaking through the doors of perception
breaking through to the otha side...

...and the snake is long; seven miles long...
...and i'm liein on my back lookin
up at the ceiling; with the christmas lights strung along like a blinking

...i goin down some funnel of spiralin flashin yesterdays todays and tomorrows
my young life hanging on a thread; i see
down the long snakin passage; to the END

seein the END OBJECT in some future on down the line...
seein napalm blowin up a mountain
of green; seein go go dancers in cages linin
the hollywood blvd....seein Jim dressed in
lizard skin like the lizard king he is...
he...can do anna thang!!!

...and i am fallin through some hollywood
backlots; some western ghost towns of my
childhood; i drift as the huge monstrous
words of the END keep painting the pictures

...apocalypse NOW, the END NOW!!!.we want it

NOW!!!...i walking down some mu amusment park
alley and palm trees of Venice, and the bloody red sunsets of L.A. are my background
i'm slowly experiancing this whole universe
in side me; the dog head men and the mermaid
women, passing the arcades of the carnival
dawns....the end....of the beginning...

one morning he woke in the green hotel....
....( in a desperate land)


Photography by Bozo.

Get back to poetry index. Go to main index. Go to "April in Paris", a one-act play involving Jim Morrsions grave.