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Sounds:
Billy Joel, River of Dreams
Words: Robert Anton Wilson, Prometheus Rising
and so far she hasn't run
though I swear she's had her moments
she still believes in miracles
while others cry in vain
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Not sure about a life after this
god knows I've never been a spiritual man
Baptized by fire, I wade into the river
That flows to the promised land
In the middle of the night
i go walking in my sleep
through the desert of truth
to the river so deep
we all end in the ocean
we all start in the streams
we're all carried along
by the river of dreams
in the middle of the night
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I just moved my desk at work again and i'm missing page three of my comprehensive list of HTML escape sequences. This is a much smaller problem than i'm making it out to be.
There are extremely cool things going on in my life right now, but I'm sitting on them for the moment. i don't want to spoil things by doing an analysis right now.
Things I have to do this weekend:
- get in touch with my editorial staff
- write form letter to Blueprints contributers
- email dustin about swanky
- work on Madstop! i have big paper now, so I can do a sitemap.
- Do a water change for the fish (10%. it's an every-other-week thing.)
- other stuff. i'm not sure what.
so much for that.
Prometheus
you're like Prometheus rising, man,
your wings are on fire
your rage has been stolen
like a dream I might have had
you're like Promethus rising, man,
your wings are gonna burn up
It was fire that you brought to me
Fire and maybe a dream
But when i asked for water, water,
you claimed you couldn't see
the path that branched before us
the thicket in the night
now i'm off thinking
about my own flight path
and you're still burning up
you're like Prometheus rising, man,
your wings are on fire
your rage has been stolen
like a dream I might have had
you're like Promethus rising, man,
your wings are gonna burn up
it isn't good that brought me here
i'm not so white and black
it isn't bad that brought you home
but your own obsessive lack
I'm not here to make accusations
I'm not all that cheap
But you're gonna learn
I came out happy
and you came out without a dream
you're like Prometheus rising, man,
your wings are on fire
your rage has been stolen
like a dream I might have had
you're like Promethus rising, man,
your wings are gonna burn up
Maybe I'll unleash my dreaming dogs
maybe i'll keep them to myself
But either way I'll tell this tale
of a girl and the cards she was dealt
I am the high priestess, honey,
and you're only the Fool
I've got the World
always in my hand
and you just ran out of swords
You're like Promethus rising, man,
I'm planning for your fall
your wings have been stolen
by the rage I know I have
you're like Prometheus rising, man,
you just ran out of luck.
annotation for Prometheus
Ehlene
the ocean, again.
the dream-painting, flying
merged with scorpion winged
in beauty, water coloring
with deep blues, weedy greens
flying with scorpion winged
with terror. you said,
'all of these relevations
will be forgotten, but
for now, the goddess knows.'
this great rock on the shore, I am
watching intently. you are
replacing that which has been
ruined by chance: these paintings
glow, salvaged from the sea.
I remember I am a shipwreck, a
dreamer on this sand, rock, wind, sun,
in this moment I am adoring
you as a slim native lad.
You kiss my mouth, giving me
those reconstructed pictures.
Later, a woman accuses me;
it is true, you have marked me,
woven me together, given me
gifts of winged scorpion flights,
altered me indelibly. Others come
but you go before me dancing.
I remember I am a shipwreck,
and this hot noon a mere metaphor
for a winged scorpion, that terror
and that joy.
annotation for Ehlene
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