Noir People

If noir people were the world
we would forever roam
the crooked nighttime streets
and brutal alleys of a city
of shifting shadows,
our own shadows
rippling across sidewalks
and the dim facades
of deserted buildings,
swelling and shrinking
behind us and before us
as we moved from one
lamppost to the next.

If noir people were the world
color would abandon us
to be superseded by
a range of shadow shades
in subtle gray distinctions,
by stark chiaroscuro contrasts
invisible to a world of color.

We would live in cheap
hotels or tenement flats,
drink our liquor straight up,
tell world-weary jokes
and crack cynical smiles
from the sides of our mouths.

If noir people were the world
death could come swiftly
and without reprieve,
-- the fast flare of a bullet,
the moonlight flash
of a knife driven home --
and our blood spilled
upon the damp pavement
would be no more
than the color of night.


Mohamed Sarfan's picture
Dear Poeter, On the battlefield of life every man is compelled to live as a warrior by the compulsion of time. In this world of changing times, realities are changing day by day. Man searches for the life of the author who wrote the mysterious life in the library of the mind where tears and smiles are taken one on top of the other as memories. The canons of this world that fail to read the minds of different human beings are in many cases very cruel. This poem really impressed me. All The Best My Dear Friend; Write More Congratulations

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