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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com My joy returned home
after her restless
sabbatical with weeping warriors
dripping their dreams
into the leopard wide-oceans
panting to quench, a single thirst
This time my joy will be more
than the joy I remember …
I said my goodbye- too many times
to misery and company
the joy, I let you have
I wouldn’t want it back even if you paid me
My joy, shaved her head bald
after mommy, found out about her cancer
My joy, is a survivors’ joy
My joy, has danced with angels
said her prayers with the saints
shed her bread of tears with the ain’t’s
My joy, is shut up in my bones – like fire -joy
laughing, the good laugh, on the right side, my belly-ache
my joy holds me down til there -are no-more- rivers
Yes! “No more rivers to cross”
that’s my Joy
Poet Krissy Mosley 2022
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Photo by David Bares on Pexels.com I knew I still had some come back left in me,
I wanna be off the radar doing good
so good for the first time in a long time my socks match
with the those pink and green toes in the morning
doing so good, I’d wake up satisfied in
my own black coffee- they’d be singing folktales to me
hold my smile in the middle of adversity
braid my hair in milk and honey
with a splash of turmeric and cardamom
because there’s nothing better than that
golden life flowing, down on the inside
being the best of me
reaching for the rest of me
…~kindness sister
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And now picking up our knees,
We sing til daylight,
Comes for us… -
On days like this, where it seems my hope is running low,
like fuel in a tank
with no places to go,
cinder blocks, in prison cells start to blow
working out the kinks down in my soul
Hope is for the featherless
no tethering ring pole,
sowing seeds of hope
germinating little
pods of things unseen
Hope for the family
every sister, every brother
every cousin, every mother
Hope for the growing up
Hope for the growing old
Hope springing out like lavender – wonders to unfold
Hope ripples out like waterfalls reaching into soul,
grander church bells, she even sings her chimes
Spring in the air,
Spring is in the air, its’ time!
your Kindness sister Krissy
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There I was sitting in my high chair. Okay, so I don’t have a High Chair. Or a bar stool. I just wanted something fancy, high-riding, where I could swing my feet off the ground. Take in the high air- not like the warmth of another winter. Where the hot air rises and I do too.
Where the bad news can’t reach me or get-me down in my shoes.
Where my toes are free. On Summer’s eve, even though it’s 37 degrees and snowing,
Where the dew of the morning gently rest over my curds and whey. Ignoring the bits of icy rocks setting sail,
instead my mind has gone to nearby cell,
Where my arms have no sleeves, dawn has no end,
with sun tan lotion and glowing. ah- the taste of sweetness,
Where the dew of the morning gently rest over my curds and whey.
Where the children say, ‘Ola, Ola
having a ball, tumbling around in the hay.
kindness sister, Krissy
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After-all the things I’ve been through I’ve still got my joy.
That’s to say. I’ve had to let go of some very hurtful things. Hold on to my own forgiveness story. From the depths of my childhood into the lives of my very own children.
I’ve been determined to to give my children the childhood in which they were surrounded with love and not criticism,
determined to build tiny humans that hold their heads up high and be proud of the past from
once we were slaves, and servants and vagabonds
and somehow found a path of love and peace in the midst of it all.
kindness sister Krissy
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And when the man of time is done
Trees cut through and through
Oh’ Beastly – silly one
Give yourself to you
and not another
Lend your cares not to beg
In sorrow sow joy
In Mourning sow a gentle burst of sun
Fathering a simple plea
when my life is done
You shall see me again
kneading a shadow’s glow
in a dash hope –
life is sweeter
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Up this morning feeling so good & happy
Thinking happy thoughts
Did a happy dance
Mixed in a little, raw sugar and Whip cream
Played all my happy records
Minded my own happy-bidness!
Sneezed a happy sneeze
Put on my best Springy-
Maxi-dress
Walked off my happy porch
And…
Lawd have Mercy!
A flat
Tire!
This is a play on a Poem by Jackie Earley “One Thousand Nine-Hundred & sixty-Eight Winters” It’s a favorite poem of mine.
Our prompt today (optional, as always), will hopefully provide you with a bit of Friday fun. Today, I challenge you to write a parody or satire based on a famous poem. It can be long or short, rhymed or not. But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times).
Krissy Mosley Ministries 