Dear bravery, maybe I’ve quieted you over the years. When I was a little girl, I felt invincible. There was nothing I wouldn’t try twice. Flying for me was a metaphysical mystery. I owned it.
Perhaps it is power/courage/heart racing/ God-chasing/can’t stop/won’t stop/ I’m not tired yet/hold my breath/come up for air swinging/life-changing,
bravery~your Kindness sister Krissy Mosley
They’re hungry always have been. They drink with their sponges in tongues at the ready. Touched/curled matches made in gossip.
Shut up! You/you don’t know.
I had two hearts. Gave up the first in solid/ frozen waters, I wanted to live.
In a place, I called alone. I needed to survive. In people who had no thought
of the next burden/ the next meal/ the next fight.
I had two worlds the one like breadcrumbs/hard/stale/burden/unsatisfied. The taste of another/fresh/oven-filled aroma on our little house.
Sweep a whisper on paper skies. Be the magic or miracle you get to decide.
Write it on newly chopped paper.
I’m better now.~your Kindness sister Krissy Mosley
Dear misery, you almost had me. I looked up and there you were circling, trying to rent the space in my head. I let out a sigh. You edging your way up, my torn pantyhose as I made my way to service this morning. Again as the head usher stepped over my toe with my good shoes. I almost let you in. While the children passed notes during worship, in my shallow attempt to be seen as If I had it all together.
I almost said yes, but you renting space ain’t good. You cost too much, eat too much, take my good thoughts and twist them. Put my good ways out on the street. Manipulate/suffocate/underestimate me into believing that I could be anything more than what I am.
I got news for you, not this time.~your Kindness sister Krissy Mosley
This is the day I said I needed to get unstuck.
I just wasn’t sure how so I made a cup of coffee. Looked my morning over, saw the fly stuck on the window. The morning-frost pressing into steam. Took a breath for good measure. Mentally stuck, emotionally drained and then it hit me more like I stumped my toe on the corner my chair.
Boy did that hurt, throbbing and hopping around. I could have called it a bad day, my morning ju-ju out of sorts. It’s kinda funny, although tell that to my pinky toe.
My Unstuck List Day:
1) Play my favorite Comedy Love Thy Neighbor by Tyler Perry
that Ms. Hattie is super hilarious or I love Lucy(oldie but goodie)
2) Eat Cholate (hey it helps)
3) Keep Writing
4) Work on my goals and check off lists
5) It’s Friday whoo we’ve made it through another week (live a little more)
Hey, if I do three out of five that will be miraculous.
And if you’re taking out time to read this you’re magnificent
P.S. I don’t know if I’m unstuck or not but this felt good. Writing my feelings down and face it.~your kindness sister Krissy Mosley
Sparrows on the gate
forklifts plowing
chisel rock apartments
sounds of souls
black/old
white/feeble
deported/ untold
knocking rivers together
fears in our prayers
tears in our sleep
sojourn in skin
taste the prayers in the river
salt it out/melt out the colors of Ivory/Jasper/Jade
As long as it takes:
A garden to be born
A song to be merry
A love to keep
A sky to break
A soul to grow
~your Kindness sister Krissy Mosley
Quite naturally, we’ve been collecting photos/ wrap them up in plastic suitcases
preserve them/ loving things/dead and easy ways of what was/ what scars/ what sacred dark symposiums
Confidential truths, yellow-yoke factories
golden, broken-folds playing over and over
three minutes/runbacks
seven minutes hard -boiled
we like them five-minute memories scrabbled
among the distance, it has taken many stretched arms
too stretched out of love to call them holy
too tired to press out any more lies
I’m not sure we could
quite naturally we are, scattered pictures of 1988
polaroid black, white stripe at the bottom
moving steadily, while the sun sleeps over yonder
playing in the dark, rising lungs gasp in weepy
rainbows, written in the veins of private sectors
living this that is…
change with suitcases, black duffle bags,
no strings or at least we got on Greyhound that way.
Left all that, sin-crap standing on the curb.
kick rocks, beat them, drown that sorry out
One bedroom, three children sleeping.
Bumper stickers, Jesus saves on windows.
Pancakes for breakfast, for lunch for dinner too
Put that polaroid on repeat, play it back slow
and remember~ your kindness sister Krissy Mosley
Over there and over here
storms like Sundays’ meetings
they keep coming.
life’s not supposed to hurt, not like
a thousand different storms
thrashing out that kind of beauty
all we’ve ever owned on the street
evicted shoelaces, and nothing to keep
not the door, not the chair, not the love-seat,
not even the wallpaper.
whispers of voices, walking by
they didn’t notice the beatings,
they didn’t see the bravery
see me standing in the storm
swallow back misery and keep
my feet on the ground
they didn’t see
my ears to the thunder
how wide my hips are- holding all my children
they didn’t see me call on Jesus
walk on water, sweep up my prayers
with brooms, I don’t own
they didn’t know, I brought the storm~your Kindness sister Krissy Mosley
Krissy Mosley Ministries 