Negative Capability

I have given up Hyperion
Thus Keats washed his hands
of identity and certainty,
of the Niggling Encumbrances
that gnaw at the psyches
of Small Minded Men.
Enlightened Hyperion,
A GOD WHO KNEW...
but to what purpose?
Fear of death and darkness,
Endless brooding
on the fall of Saturn.

Meanwhile the Titan thumbed his nose
at the hapless Englishman
and thought back to own celebrity
in the days when the sun and stars
adorned the wrists of the gods.
He might have dabbled in dreams--
far better to become
a pillar than a poet,
to raise the universe
with brute force purchased
at the cost of his father's manhood.


I have given up Hyperion
Keats closed his eyes to the sun,

found lurking in shadow
the substance of Truth,
the weight of Beauty,
a universe free
of that which bound the masses.
Keats celebrated UNKNOWING,
bid adieu to self,
Became.

(Image: M.C. Escher, Three Worlds)