poetry

Here are some poems I have written throughout my life. I do not post many poems on here because most publications want first dibs on works, but I will try to post when I see fit to do so here!

heartworm reader issue no.2

| Jeremy Szuder

IT’S OUT!

So yesterday Wes, Amy and Rainer stopped by for a visit and brought me two copies of the newest Heartworm Reader Issue No. 2. One cover with Mark Lanegan, the other cover with Jeffrey Lee Pierce of Gun Club fame. Including myself, (and both Wes and Amy) 25 poets are represented here, 4 poems each. 

The book looks beautiful, and I took some time to read a bit of it last night. I am beyond humbled and honored to have my 4 poems represented with this amazing caliber of great Poets/Artists. 

The book is shipping out fast and already 1000 copies have flown the nest, so I encourage you to reach out to Heartworm Press and order your copy today. 

I want to thank Wes and Amy again and again for considering me to be a guest on this project. 

I love writing poetry very much and I burst with a joy unparalleled to anything in knowing that other people love poetry as much as I do.

Thank you for your time and energy.

Heartworm Reader Issue No. 2

Still available to purchase from Heartworm Press!!! 

Two different covers, 25 poets, 4 poems each.

Beautifully put together, bound, and delivered.

Get a copy now while they are in stock!

Thank you to W.A.R. and everyone involved!

One of many Ballet poems for my Daughter.

| Jeremy Szuder

Dancers

The gentle velvet click of beetle bones
and joints rubbing notes of stairway melodies
into a spiral of upwards waltzing,
it begins when the fingerprint transfers
itself onto a pane of cold glass.

The warm flesh is mentioned
so casually as a dot is round,
because it is the vessel of
all brilliant dancers,

even when they have folded
their lanky wings and even when nature
strains to mock the pressing tender foot,
that foot dreaming of becoming
a cat’s paw or a falcon’s beak.

I thirst in a silent swell,
my skull encased in a pillowed ocean
of ballet flats and the ankle weights pulling
sparrow bodies down into pools
beneath the well worn floorboards of
this institution.

To rise again with great passion,
this artistry takes hostage the hearts
of babes who’ve assigned their souls
to the care and possession of a madness
that will never fully pass.

It is an avalanche of ivory keys and
gossamer screams,
sent razor sharp to cut through
the thickness of the summer
nights.

. . . .

Simultaneous Times and Whimsical Poet

| Jeremy Szuder

Hi everyone. I have two illustrations that are being published in Volume 2 of Space Cowboy Books Science Fiction Anthology by my friend of many years Jean-Paul Garnier. I used to work with Jean-Paul back in our Cannibal Flower years and I also got to do some music stuff and visual collaborations with him. Jean-Paul lives out in the desert these days and runs/owns Space Cowboy Book Shop and also does tons of poetry reading events out in the Joshua Tree area. Order the book here; https://bookshop.org/books/simultaneous-times-volume-2/9781732825741

Also on that topic, I am grateful and honored to also have a poem titled ‘“Ushering Out Another Summer” in issue #2 for 2021 of Whimsical Poet out of Nyack New York! I was placed as the second poet in the table of contents which I thought was very cool. Check out my poem here;

https://online.fliphtml5.com/siynh/ckzz/

This publication is also available in print form and on Kindle. Support the underground press and get some!!!

A huge “Thank You” to both of these wonderful publications for their time and energy. I am forever grateful!

Reworking Poems

| Jeremy Szuder

I do not post much of my poetry on social media, or here either. I send out hundreds of poems to be considered for various publications, so I want to always be sure the poems get to those people first. I am posting the poem below for a different reason however. I often try to go back over poems that get returned to me. I search for flaws or perhaps the poem just isn’t good enough, maybe I need to expand it, or in some cases trim it up. I went over the poem titled “Little Bastard” and cut a few small words from it, but also, something I picked up from my writing workshops, I rewrote it backwards. Sometimes writing your poems out backwards so that the last line is first, etc. etc. ending with the first line last is a process that allows the chance to see the words more clearly and whether they work together cohesively or not.

I really liked this poem backwards, it seemed to reveal some stuff that I could not have predicted otherwise. Like William S. Burroughs before me, the magic of rearrangement and chance sometimes pays off in nice little ways. I am not claiming that this poem is mind blowing or anything like that, it’s just a poem about getting moles cut from my back. But I liked what came from spending more time with it and hope you might enjoy it. Here it is both regular version and backwards version. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Little Bastard (Forwards)

My mole is in the jar.
The jar is under the coat.
I spent my days pressing

my flesh against a windshield
of tunnel vision.
The quest for productivity

is now carefully packaged
in gauze and ganders
from the shooting gallery.

My blood is pretty as it
dries on mummified cloth
and sharp gold handled scissors.

Just after mere moments
of drive-thru incision making,
I get to waltz out of that room

clipped and tagged a new man!

I’ve been neatly composed
and cleverly constructed with
the finest holes and ivory

bone ever known to powder mankind.

It was the perfect day
to make a mountain
out of a molehill .

. . . .

Little Bastard (Backwards)

From out of a molehill
I’ve made a mountain.
It was the perfect day.

Powdered bone was known
with the finest holes and ivory,
cleverly constructed and

neatly composed, clipped and
tagged a new man!
I get to waltz out of that room

of drive-thru incision making
just after mere moments
being handled with scissors

and precious sharp gold.
Dried on mummified cloth,
my blood is pretty from

the shooting gallery of gauze
and ganders, now carefully
packaged with the quest

for productivity in tunnel vision.
My flesh against a windshield,
I spend my days pressing

the jar under the coat,
my mole is in that jar!

. . . .

Poems Stolen By Ghosts #3

| Jeremy Szuder

The Gas Station Bathrooms

So, here is my newest spoken word poem. Very pleased with this one, as it seems every time I work with the parts involved, things just keep getting better. I had recently decided I would like there to be some background sound landscaping involved with my readings. There seemed to be an opportunity to fill in the extra space left behind from just reading my poetry and I always loved making sounds and tunes, so this seemed like the perfect chance to bring both together. I originally had tried putting sounds under my readings using multiple old cell phones, recording different tracks on each phone, then playing them all back at the same time while reading over the top (!?!)… HUGE pain in the ass, but because my laptop could not handle the size of Garage Band, I was at a loss of what to do. I found a more low key, lighter program similar to Garage Band that would allow me to multi-track some sounds and behold, here is the final outcome. Also, iMovie is what I use for the video stuff and it has been amazing so far. Enjoy!