Lingua Sui Vox

Tap, tap, knock, knock, ding-dong, doorbell chime.
Hey, you up there! Yes, that meant you!
I would like to speak with you for a moment.
Speak up, did you say?
IS THIS BETTER? Oh, well, how’s this?
So anyway, I’ve been thinking about what I’m supposed to say today.
You think there’s a chance someone might misconstrue my words?
Oh, I know I have some good material, and it’s an interesting topic.
Unless no one even bothers to show up! Or they hate it! Then what?
Relax – you’re right. I’m getting too worried and hyper. Keep it calm… less is more…
People can be so hard to communicate with sometimes, you know. That’s all I meant.

Of course, language is so fundamental that it’s amazing how much power it can have.
Excuse me, sorry. I digress. I was getting lost in thought.
More to the point, do you think I am good to go for later? Have I expressed myself clearly?
Sure, I know what I’m going to say. The whole thing is typed up, in case I forget.
Prose wasn’t easy to get quite right. I wanted to be succinct, creative, articulate…
Expressive, too. I hope everyone will feel that they can relate to what I have to say.
At least, I hope they understand it, anyway. Others don’t have to agree with me.
Know what it feels like to be afraid of seeming shallow, or boring, or one-dimensional?
In fact, I … oh, shoot. Look at the time. Now it’s my turn to talk, so…
Now or never, as they say, right? Here goes nothing! You know, I…
Geez! Ouch, that hurts! I just gave myself a paper cut!

On writing "Lingua Sui Vox"

Yet another poem whose meaning is built into the title, I constructed my own Latin phrase, which translates as “language of its own voice.” However, the real clue is buried within the first (capital) letter of each line – it reads “THIS IS YOUR POEM SPEAKING.” The idea is that there is a poem somewhere, on a table, and the author is sitting at the table. Suddenly he hears the poem actually speak to him. It’s never explained whether the voice “truly” is audibly coming from the piece of paper, or if it the author is just hearing his own inner thoughts about his poem.