Prometheus

“Cover thy spacious heavens, Zeus,
With clouds of mist,
And like the boy who lops
The thistles’ heads,
Disport with oaks and mountain-peaks;
Yet thou must leave
My earth still standing;
My cottage, too, which was not raised by thee;
Leave me my hearth,
Whose kindly glow
By thee is envied.

I know nought poorer
Under the sun, than ye gods!
Ye nourish painfully,
With sacrifices
And votive prayers,
Your majesty;
Ye would e’en starve,
If children and beggars
Were not trusting fools.

While yet a child,
And ignorant of life,
I turned my wandering gaze
Up toward the sun, as if with him
There were an ear to hear my wailings,
A heart, like mine,
To feel compassion for distress.

Who helped me
Against the Titans’ insolence?
Who rescued me from certain death,
From slavery?
Didst thou not do all this thyself,
My sacred glowing heart?
And glowedst, young and good,
Deceived with grateful thanks
To yonder slumbering one?

I honour thee, and why?
Hast thou e’er lightened the sorrows
Of the heavy laden?
Hast thou e’er dried up the tears
Of the anguish-stricken?
Was I not fashioned to be a man
By omnipotent Time,
And by eternal Fate,
Masters of me and thee?

Didst thou e’er fancy
That life I should learn to hate,
And fly to deserts,
Because not all
My blossoming dreams grew ripe?

Here sit I, forming mortals
After my image;
A race resembling me,
To suffer, to weep,
To enjoy, to be glad,
And thee to scorn,
As I!”

—Goethe

hypersleep dreams of the hypermind

“For who can return ‘nowhere?’” – Thomas Merton

tumbling through space
thoughts flashing
through mind illumined
electrically and esoterically
charged
i come to the
end of the road
the gig is up
i tried to run
but could never hide
from myself
i seem to just be
a 3D projection of
a 2D surface
an echo
a collapsed star
turned in
on itself
a lower dimensional
shadow
from dimensions
above or is it below
I stand across a sea
i can never reach
stuck behind
this one-sided boundary
everything is
different here
i long to be back
in that place
where all is
Unus Mundus
where up is down
and down is up
so long ago
forgotten
lost in hypersleep now
in this closed
hyperreal loop
now i’m getting it
i know this tune
do not despair
we are echoes
of something else
we can not know
i accept this now
in my hypermind
when quiet
what is left
am i just

mechanical flotsam?
bohm’s ‘system of thought’?
an outside without an inside?

no

i am
the ambassador
for the true Emperor
and nothing less
the holy one
who knows
the secrets
you have never
dreamed to seek
he winds me up every night
for the day’s competition
like a charging tin soilder
who must follow the rules
in this funland
but we can choose
what rules we wish
to follow
for there is
no such thing
as rules
in that other
place
i write
these silly words
begging someone
not to forget
to turn out the
light when they
are done playing
and please
don’t forget to
wind my spring
for i have many
battles yet to fight
I always live
to fight
another day
now leave
me to my
hyperdreams