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 . . .
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