Use your inside voice, to reach
deep beneath coral floor boards,
under knotted stained pine,
where feelings ripple sand and
rock garden, down there, even further
passed remembrances of fleeting loves
and lost circumstances.
Answer to your own call,
a brief chirp at first, then the low
gravelly request instating;
"heel, sit, lie down,
close your eyes,
open your mind."
Use your illusion, in times
of firearms and floral arrangements.
Use your outside voice,
to call upon stiffening winds,
carriers of ultra waves caught flattening
all foliage of fear in its path
and continuing onward and forwards.
Rolling out the crimson carpet
while still beckoning in anticipation,
the seductive finger of unknown origins
that dutifully calls so rambunctiously
out upon the thunderdome of your vision,
upon the jurisdiction of your better self,
the one slicing and dicing information
and digesting the whole of the land,
in noble self deed, to understand the more.
Now it is heard and oh, how it resonates
back from vocal ricochet and casts the die.
Cast the Die
Jeremy Szuder lives in a tiny apartment with his wife, two children and two cats. He works in the evenings in a very busy restaurant, standing behind a stove, a grill, fryers and heating lamps, happily listening to hours of hand selected music and conjuring ideas for new art and poetry in his head. When his working day ends and he enters his home in the wee hours, he likes to sit down with a glass of wine and record all the various words and images that bear fruit within his mind. Jeremy Szuder only sets the cage doors free when the work begins to pile up too high. In this life, Szuder makes no illusions of being a professional artist in any way, shape, or form. jeremyszuder.wordpress.com