(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.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
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
Always a pleasure to vi (sit) (sion) – violet being a respected color of the rainbow…
I like the braille used as a verb. I’d say this is a poem about doubt, indeed.
sigh. 🙂