My tears are no ordinary waters.
It was here, my gut rose to take its place.Its gonna be alright.
My life, is gonna be alright.Have a small bite,
These rainy cycles of loving me.All because I indulged in dark cherry, brownies …
Wait never mind the calories…
Got down in the bottom of skillet,
feeling good…
She was not just a pretty orange to peel.Her vitamin c, drove back the mucus of icicles.
Hacking deeply like rusty faucets,
sputtering brown,
then yellow ,almost pasty clear.
She would not quit, come too far in the snow.
Open the oceans wide and you’ll find me.
In the arms of hope,
I’m finding my way to life….
Black Waters Spice,
You do something nice,
A comfy currant with cinnamons and cayenne.
Inside my Low-days,
Fishy-grey thoughts.
I do blame,
wash away with Lavender & Sage.
My black waters spice
I found my happy, smells good too…
She picked and scratched her edges.Her uterus burst forth in hunger.
By default she gravitated toward evil and worshipped,
in meal,in song,in suffering.
Trying to hold crazy together.
Her crooked places made her stumbled in
Amen,Amen Amen.
Her Halleluiah, swallowed vigorously the evil she had married in her head,
sinner and saint.
Amen.Amen.Amen
She would be driven out in bullet holes,HIV,and over grown-fur coats.
Trying to hold crazy together.
Amen.Amen.Amen
Run.Run.
Run with your Amen
Trying to hold crazy together…
Love was born violently shedding through the night.
And night she was beautiful playing hide and seek with the children.
Suffocating, bending, and jolting.
Love was born hand in hand.I saw love, hungry to feed my brokenness working two jobs,to give peace and teach me happy,
“ElShaddi,ElElyon,ElRoi,ElYisreal,Yeshua,Jah,Jehovah Shammah,Jehovah- Rapha,Jehovah Shalom”.I saw love.
Reviving the sluggish souls,to shake, whooshing, to breathe,Love was born unarmed ,uncounted,with her hands up Love was born beautifully in the night.
Good morning peace, you bring me humanities tears
The Weeping Willows are strong,swaying through winter’s-smoke.
She said, there is no, why,to fix what we searching for.
The burdens peace must carry,childless,widowed and broken.
She shared her days forbidden to fight,
So gently she passes by our wounded streets.
Krissy Mosley©2015
Many rivers to cross ,back to the waters Love my Mother Bethel Family and all my fellow bloggers peace…Great things Now…
I write to keep my rhythm and string.Sometimes Its all I have, while life abandon’s me.Centering all my ticks and tocks.Cultivating these itchy thoughts. A healthy word a day keep the demons at bay. Regenerating word-cells ; if it were not for writing I would be alone.
Poet:Krissy Mosley
She took her mind out for a short walk.Along the way,the left brain said to the right.
“They divided us and now we must work together!”
The shadows we boxed ,longing for stillness.Fragmented cavities of uncertainty.
Turning onto Cherry street; ant piles shaped the X sign on the sidewalk.
Little dirty children we use to be.Her spirit whistled like the wind.Her body found new land with skin and algae.Under holy waters she bathed daily.
Erupted tides of new beginnings.
Poet Krissy Mosley
This time when I grow up.I do it right.With no hashtags,scratches toward the back.When I grow up,I’ll see the moon souls’.When I grow up in this world,I’ll start over at hundred and four. Smile at little more.Cry a little harder.Scream a little louder,venturing in and out of sleep.
Poet:Krissy Mosley
Krissy Mosley Ministries 