for the yell of it 8/5/19

what is the yell 

from the primal source of me?

never thought the search to be worthy

for the yell 

beyond the self of confinement.

it’s not from the mouth 

as if forcefulness of cursing,

not from the throat 

as if chorusing a song,

not from the chest 

as if operatic was the audience demand

but more from the soul 

beyond this lifetime’s limitations.

a sound so thorough

that all cells joined in.

that my nerve endings blended 

into one voice 

singularly launched as if lofted.

a bellowing deep tone

hurled from beneath my feet,

off the top of my head

yet out of my mouth 

as if it was cooperative

beyond my means to know.

I was the steal in the sound of it,

never to have been so committed 

and realized it after the fact.

haunted and shuddered

when the sound of it 

came echoing back.

didn’t realize the canyon around

would pay me that compliment.

that mirror sound was stunning.

initially denied it was mine

yet I was still in the recoil and shiver

to realize the beyond from within

as if it was the orgasm of my being . . .