Black Poetry : Cincinnati Air

[hypersleep]

These tufts of air
talked to me
as I fell
speaking in gunshot mumbles

The vibrations in the slow
breeze of death wove a distant serenade
and whined a woodwind's song.

The air met my blood
danced into red before my eyes
could see
their last horrifying visions.

The air puffed hurrying
from my lungs leaving
the scene like a
parent
transparent
rushing away from a dying house,
child in hand.

The air around my mother
slowed
it's spinning and
conducted a cord of my
dying electricity into her first tears.

The city cries broken glass now
and weeps fire and wails smoke and
the air coughs
the thick black
of my skin.






martin smith
© 2001


http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,106087,00.html

 

[Heartbeat]

Since November, the tears of four mothers flow
as the Ohio River turns red. Thank you for this.

BE

 

[Hunter]

"...the city cries broken glass now..."

What a powerful picture

Walk on air poet...
Then tell us what you see

Very vivid piece!

*stained-glass*

 

[j'hiah]

Sin sinnati

yo i know it has to be ill right now.
i told sherykah how i felt about it.
the city does cry broken glass and the air coughs black smoke
America chokes.

peace

 

[$$RICH$$]

SO SAD SO TRUE REMINDS ME OF THE MASS IN CHICAGO
THE BEAT DOWN ON CITY STREET IN THE BLACK NIGHT
OF SMOKED FILLED AIR AND THE CRIES OF BROKEN
BLUE GLASS.......****! I FEEL YA