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This Poem received a lot of positive feedback so Thank you for all the likes and comments ..I’m feeling the love
From One Artist to Another thank you all ,blogging World means so much…
For https://mutafariqkhayalat.wordpress.com/ who invited me to do this .I’m not good at these kinds of things such as:links and tech savvy stuff.. Thank you
When I grow up I’ll fly…
with silver cufflinks
chained to the free
engaged for their own sacred prosperity.
When I grow up no need for money man against man
One toward the penny the other toward the land
Rigid cold,freezing
Broken legs ,so learned to fly
Taking to the bitter dirt
I moved sluggishly on my stubby joints
Parting the mud between
the soul and body
when I grow up
I’ll fly ….
Thanks everyone the most comments on this poem.I’ll Fly, so much love…
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Poetry PotLuck: I Love Lucille Clifton Homage to her Hips even though I am small frame I see my hips as magic too, and her words lift me… the power in a woman… Her Poem moves me to have that Self love talk in the Mirror hey “My life loves me”…
Homage to My Hips
BY LUCILLE CLIFTON
these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don’t fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don’t like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!Lucille Clifton, “homage to my hips” from Good Woman. Copyright © 1987 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179615
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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…
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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….
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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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I saw a homeless man,shoveling urban trash,
broken glass and all the city’s gumbo;
boiling with winter’s feet.
No pity he plowed
Philly’s streets.
His ringing cell phone surprised my empty pockets.
Rolling onto highways asking speeding cars for change.
The iron cage spoke plain.
“God Bless you girl,
all men are human,
we all just the same.”
Poet Krissy Mosley ©2014
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