ancestor – Page 6 – Krissy Mosley Ministries

Crazy

February 3rd, 2015
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…
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To the Pen…

December 23rd, 2014
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
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Sisters

December 19th, 2014
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
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Together

December 10th, 2014
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
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Stay

November 30th, 2014
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
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Waiting

November 12th, 2014
I been waiting for Nigerian thunder,

moving against cast-iron trees

cleansing my skin with maple sap

lost in my native tongue tapping my hands

towards the land

my song,my fight

I’m waiting on me…

Krissy Mosley2014 all rights reserved
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Go to the Water

April 23rd, 2014
I go to the water

there I will find my ancestors

in worship and spirit,

becoming one breath.

I go to the water there I will find

My ancestors of rhythm and sleep

Emerging in water where deals are made of bone and fabric

The future me lies here in the water

I go to the water,

there I will find my ancestors.

Poet: Krissy Mosley all rights reserved 2014
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