Poetry

irrational problems have irrational solutions

i wept over nothing until i prayed

there was no reason to pray

but there was also no reason to weep

so i was very secure in dislogic

though troubled in the threads

woven clumsily that make me

a child of the new millenium

i was well equipped and prepared

to be my own priest

now i know

now i know who calls me to the ocean

who sings to me in the hurricane

now i know

my heart yearns so for the Himalayas

the rainy glen

when the sound of men’s demise is sweet

when i leap to defend the weak

hours pass as i dream of the fjords

but now i dont hate myself for it

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