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
I am so thankful of this Motherhood experience;just as it is with all the crying and laughter.When I think of Christmas I think of Judah’s Birth
Judah’s Birth
Men say, giving birth is a beautiful thing.
I agreed silently, until my turn came.
Laying flat on a table exposed, vulnerable,
anticipating the cry of a newborn.
The night fall of raining, pouring, down on the windows.
my body traveling through multiple changes
10 centimeters deep Dilating….
Sounds of medical staff in the distance .
I could hear doctors say get her prep right away…
What was wrong? Having my baby too soon ;
Underdeveloped lungs ,bad prenatal care, transfered from here to there.
Throwing up my bowels is what I remember ,eight months three weeks
.Bleeding internally.
“Count to ten”, said he the doctor,
placing the oxygen mask over my face .
It was dark all day…. Reflecting,
making peace with the soul maker.
I thought I was eating right;working so hard to keep my status of medical care and salary .
Going to school did…
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While the shoes are gathered together
I think of Philly,
no feet walking, just shoes
of where we could go
aligned with blue-black night
I think of London’s skyline
I think of my people
Old man Jack
frozen in the snow
Of “Maya Angelou”
“All God’s children have shoes”
I think of El Paso
and I’ll put on shoes
Poet:Krissy Mosley
When going up,
no-less,holding on.
When going down,
give-in:Jasmine petals,
the onions,
breaking up the fevers.
Unclogging the mind.
Happiness has a flow.
Poet;Krissy Mosley all rights reserved 2014
I came here, ready to write the day away.
I stubbed my toe against a corner closet-step.
I warmed my coffee pot instead.
Flopping down to the chair that needed me, like everything else in the room:
the children crying, my plants are dying, the cold called me too.
I grabbed my socks put them on, fed the babies with tiny spoons.
Sipped my mocha piping hot and then I could not write.
Ah-ey, there goes my day.
Walking this path to share a common suffering,
that only the living know.
My feet found the puddles and I did not dance.
My eyes saw the rivers that I had not cross,
and no one can measure the beauty in letting go.
In step and stride, in the swampy holes ,
Out numbered by the trees.
They teach me to stand.
Without the arms that use to hold me
Stand,
Without a signal nor light
stay here
on this path,that you find,
right.
-Krissy Mosley
This time we stood together to hate evil
This time we fought together with our hands up
For everything God made is beautiful in its time
This time justice is on the wrong side of the people
I have no time left to accept this kind of pursuit
I have no time left to deflect
I have no time left, now that peace has lost the fight
I have no time left, to stand by and watch the next lynching victim
I have no time left, for I too have a son
No time left, to run away
No time left, to let my tears fall
No time left, to enjoy black friday’s
No time left,to cover my anger, with a friendly smile
No time left ,shot down:
Malcolm X , Martin Luther King, Trayvon Martin, Emmett Till
I have No time left, to list all the lives destroyed by this kind of violence
No time left to shout Ida B Wells right ,
“One had better die fighting against injustice, than to die like a dog or a rat caught in a trap”
This time Ferguson united us, casting away our differences
No time left, for this kind of injustice
Poet Krissy Mosley all rights reserved 2014
Grandma said, girly,
Hold your nickel ,
and I did.
Grandma say, spin baby ,let me see you spin.
I’d go spinning on my toes and she’d say my, my, how you’ve grown.
I’d show all my teeth and she’d say baby-girl hold your nickel between your knees
Remember your space is holy that nickel between your knees
Krissy Mosley all rights reserved 2014
Krissy Mosley Ministries 