by Erika Catiz

Lingering on lips in cloudy rooms
Slow dancing to mystic drum beat tunes
Resounding in microphones
As finger snap and hands clap
My Word melodies bring heavenly
Visualizations of brown images
flarring in hues from a certain
Style, a certain logic
A certain pronounciation
Which accentuates the black
Fist style attached to the
Afro pick, style...Can you dig it?
These words soothe souls
And is bond to the heads of old
Make ya lose it, cause these lips
Sink ship loads of ignorance
brings with it a special cadence
Rooted in Underground fashion
Commercial-type slashing
B.S. rhetoric blasting
And for the asking
Do you know me? I am Poetry
Black Fist Style

Poetry by Erika Catiz

© Copyright 1999. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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