No theories here—only deep, parched voices from Self, echoing the fragments and wails from my human status—Eros interrupted—songs, straining to express themselves from my personal, collective, chaotic lineage—this is one voice of feminine humanity.
I know that it will be from this Spirit of the Depths that I will be able to see, hear and share the truth of the effects of my personal efforts within centuries of social and spiritual evolution. Here it is that I will see, hear and share the truth of the compromises and sacrifices made in collective adjustments—here, it is that a Different Voice—- halting, broken, autistic, intermittent, sometimes stammering, will speak out its truth, be it with growls, fragments or simple utterances from the Depths of the Centuries of my earth/cosmic journey.
Here is gain beyond all of my past efforts to understand. Now, in full measure comes increase— gold, shining from the depths, chords, choked off long ago in compliance with survival and fear.
I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.
-Edgar Allan Poe
Word Song was given to me while creating songs for the Austin Drum Circle — As an expression of poetry to the beat of a drum or another instrument.