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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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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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
Krissy Mosley Ministries 