Doubting the Stars

(a partially found poem from Hamlet)

..

“By indirections find directions out” – Hamlet

..

If true north be fire,
or moving sun, truth
a liar that slings
arrows and out
-rageous fortune, is
there method, madness
……..any
where?

If words be made
of breath, I am but mad
north-north-west;
smiling villain,
conscious coward.
I am stirred
by southerly wind
(torrent, tempest)
and the cracking
of noble hearts.

I Braille my way
out, count
………sorrows
in battalions –
faces without
he(art)s.

 

..
Quickly prompted.

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4 Responses to Doubting the Stars

  1. Lacy J says:

    Seriously one of my favorite poems.

    moving sun-truth … perfection
    rage-us for tune(s) … yeah, man
    their method-madness … 🙂
    mad of breath
    ha ha … butt-mad of breath
    smiling villain … they’re the best
    I am am-stirred … I know it’s not there, but I invented it. We could even make it “I am I-Am stirred.”
    and the cracking … always the cracking … especially on migraine day; so sorry it’s today for you 😦
    I bra-ill my way … I’m so sick of bras.
    count sorrows out … Amen to that.
    butter lions … I want one a those
    faces without hes … no dudes allowed, brother

  2. julespaige says:

    Always a pleasure to vi (sit) (sion) – violet being a respected color of the rainbow…

  3. I like the braille used as a verb. I’d say this is a poem about doubt, indeed.

  4. Kir Piccini says:

    sigh. 🙂

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