I am cursing with sacred breath
as my primary tool.
I send the doves of peace
to fly out of my mouth as my breath
in service flown up into my swearing.
I say words in the shaping
of my twisted emotional discharge
as release and possible closure.
My lips are vexing as axe blades,
slicing off chunks of sound
and shaping them as they are hurled.
My tongue in the fever of assistance
is as the feverish blacksmith
in touch with my darkness to find light.
I am first audience to what I feel-think-feel,
and then say, as it echoes back at me
in utterances as percussive violent chant.
If I could sneeze and curse
at the same outburst,
I would feel more complete
with the physical expression
of these vocal expletives extol.
At this point, I am not sure
I have a topic of intention
as much as a need for a totality of release.
Hear me as blind-searching inwardly for soul.
Getting rid of the guttural clutter
and the thoughts that befriend it.
I feature it as the exhaust
of the deductive low life within me.
I am sending out these ripples
to reset my pool of emotional tranquility
and then settle to feel for that
as the homeland of my heartfelt
in my first order of being,
finding for itself the art form of living.
I don’t have a problem
with vapid or discursive
or self-righteous insipidness.
I want to be of the whole
and not the sum of its parts.
Vicious acts of the mind
are not really done in words but within tones.
I yell from the inner self of me
as if order, judgment and conclusions reign
but I deeply listen
for the tones coming through
to reveal that source-point of soul.
Not my soul in redemption
but the soul of all-oneness,
the over-soul beyond the addiction
to self as soul.
Out of disgust and frustration
and the meddlesomeness of conscious living,
I surrender beyond principle
or ideal or species entitlement.
The sound of oneness
travels through my cursing.
The entire universe is bonded with sound.
Find me the unending chorus
that I be one with, in harmony
and never to be unbound . . .