The Prophet

[tectak]

The day I fell asleep­, the lights went on How I despise the metaphor that walks in bright light yet I cannot see it. Whose fault is this? We are musing here. Herak(hercu)les may well be up for a pairing with Hera but the domesticity of the gods is surely more of a myth than a muse? So as an opener I am ready to be mythtified...I may be my own disappointment. Please tell me it is not a (day) dream.
in studio six.  Behind my lids, miles of  Beware the man of two books. I could draw the power output stage, class A, push-pull pentodes, no neg. feedback of the studio six all-vacuum tube amplifier...too obscure? Too esoteric? Too much jargon? Well, you started it Still, I am mythtified ( and if that ain't a word it should be).
cable and gaffer tape twisted around Herakles
preparing hydra three ways as Hera criticised Of course I like it. What's not to like...but I am adrift and NEED divine guidance. It is the Prophet that throws me. Hercules, Hera and the prophet? Help indeed. You make metaphors on the hoof. Not like you. I am Lingua in Maxillam...no, I am Lingua in Maxillam.
his lack of sauce.  Two stars turned to boys on a
staging ground and a city wall was raised, razed, 
dusted and fed to wolves with crossed eyes.Again, an odd diversion from an odd diversion. Are you drunk, woman?
 
I rolled and the world turned with me.  Princesses
puzzled isoperimetrically and someone found the salt. 
No, there is no room in this dish for an elephant,
unless poached.  Mind, the idols are burning.  All is dark. "All is dark" adds nothing here but even if it does to your greater scheme it sticks out architecturally
 
Here in sleep, I am divine and diviner.  It has happened:
it will happen.  Myth and man are no mystery.  You turn
your back, fiddle and the world catches fire.  Where are
your roses now?  Nobody will have you.  You are evicted,
extracted, amazed.  I offer you my vision. I have become old reading this. If thinking substitutes for knowing then we are all dilettantes...and worn out, to boot.
 
Tomorrow I will wake to blindness, rise, and tread my eyes
into the dirt.  You will never see. Gobbledygook. That felt good

Hi leanne,
this reads to me like giving breech birth to an adult. You just had to get it out but you hung on too long and the thing got bigger and bigger until the waters broke and..and..and...out it all came in a rush, fully formed, but a stranger. Others may say what a beautiful baby but until I'm introduced I don't know enough to strike up conversation. I do hope you are well.
Bested,
tectak