I know its been said “all we need is love” above all else, what else can mankind render if not love? I find myself -talking to myself- taking long walks around this abandoned track. One in fact used to belong to a middle school. Which closed about fours years ago. I could see that world has abandoned its truest nature to love. However, I know love’s most effective promise- is that of love, when it is given and given again. Love can never be lost.
~kindness sis Krissy
Smoke in slow motion
quiet eyes soaking in the juices
here we are, in snap shot
mounted, suppressed my spirit into a squirt of a lens
reconstructing my soul to water
drinking from the wells that never run dry
walking on the rivers,
smile deeply in the face of adversity,
my soul makes human
makes me believe, there’s still good left in the world
has me thinking – I am machine trapped in its blood
where I bleed out all the colors of all the other humans
our only desire, let out our souls- out and be free
where I escape to be made in the southern warmth and sunshine
hold back evil of this time,
the soul of the prophets’
priestess and people drink down a sad song
blood on the trees , blood in our veins
blood and it rains – making our souls
come alive in all its pain, in all its darkness
damaged and wounded- x-master, x-slave
x-preacher, x-teacher, x-leader
x-destination, sooner or later
we gotta let our souls… if only,
a little while…
kindness sister Krissy
Let it be love, and let love be…
kindness sister Krissy
In many ways we dream almost golden, the thorns that might arise breaking the nightfall. beyond the need of intelligence or intellect. A flower unveiling petal by petal, knowingly, the day awaits us to the sweet looming light,
Soft timid blooming- press
turning the world around in a spec
that it is the earth’s kindness as she brings
icy lakes, black and white snow
mud piles on the road
journey attending,
as we go …
kindness sister Krissy
It feels as if I am a cork bottle, on the blue wide open sea. Good things floating all around me. Why is it? Am I not floating? I have no control on which way the wind blows or the course my life seems to be…
but I do appreciate calming tidal waves, bouncing, boisterous spiced aromas drifting.
There’s a longing, to never be alone, another to one to be found hiding. In arms of something called home, something called -ones’ own.
Virtuous finding,
kindness sister Krissy
Dear writers’ burnout, I’ve stepped lightly under your thumb. Ghastly, recording -jet-lag, blistered-sketched. Riding on fumes alone
alarming ping, the hum, the blow-
singed by the leak of my own.
Habitual crawling towards more white-paper,
the rugged red/table-legs of fire,
I no longer sit down- while oceans are bleeding
I no longer stroke black and white keys,
I no longer dig my heels into my wounds- so I let them…
I no longer key-up the engine
I can’t feel the motor-less hum
In that way, I play the frolicking multi colored peacock
feathering a pretentious prance.
In that way, I am a fool, foolishly
chewing up words/undigested at the red table
Come dine,
sit with me, til the smoke has cleared
and there will be words to write/mountains to climb
and there will be more…
I pray, that my hour of darkness does not cast her shadow
I pray, that you and I find a simple answer
I pray, your stay is not prolonged
In this note you’ll find your bags,
P.S. I’ve kept my pen.
kindness sister, Krissy
while today is today, my mind might as well be a someday kinda brain, with all its’ trash-talking, ideas that be a load of crap in the morning, wannabe- hoping that its gonna be , and by then
I’m standing outside on checkered white curb,
with a muddy puddles of water
one-inch from my brown good-will suit.
On my way to the rest of my life
and a dark blue Sudan drives by
splashes rounds and rounds of puddles onto my good-clothes.
Now I’m heading home- telling myself
well’-there’s always tomorrow. 🙂
kindness sister Krissy
Pixabay.com
God grant me serenity, to believe,
without a doubt I’m a writer.
poet enough to hold this pen,
courage to write the things that secretly haunt me,
and wisdom to always edit.
kindness sister, Krissy
Krissy Mosley Ministries 