Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was born..no, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ pkmorrison.livejournal.com and www.myspace.com/hermajestythelizardqueen)

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Requiescat

The day Jim was buried at Père-Lachaise...
I thought I’d let some of his own words speak for him…

Listen
When I am dead
take me back to the beach
Raise the black sails
Whistle for a wind
Lash mourners to the masts
Bid the sailors row
We will sing as we go
W/lewd & lawless sea-chants split the billow



~ from “Lastwords (Requiem & Love Song)”, 1971

© 2007, Patricia Morrison

posted by Patricia Kennealy Morrison | 12:07 AM

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