Words and not-words

If you cannot write with your body, you are dead.

If you cannot feel a well of ink in your belly, simmering, bubbling and churning,
the flow of your life will run dry and stagnate.

Because words divorced from not-words create a prison-world ruled by hands and heads,

 whilst the rest are repressed - to become a body invisible - a myth which is only half-believed and rarely experienced.

Children are told to create a signature,
and in that process, 

something is formed and something is lost.

Every new word we learn activates a latent capacity to perceive more of the world,
yet each new word moves us further into a cave of language,
whilst the bright dumb light of supernal being calls us back,
to bathe in the wordlessness of our Edenic beginnings.

The Scriptures have mislead us.
Things did not begin with a word
much less The Word,
but with something primal.
A gasp, a sigh, a groan, an ecstatic cry,
which underscores 

all our erudite and entrapping attempts
to wed what we perceive to language,
& breaks through in ums, ers and pregnant pauses

- the anarchy of silence - 

sounds without definition
tease open the structures of meaning to let in
blasts of impossible wonder.

Chimes of the sublime