The eggyolk bricks skipping places ,

Hallucinations pumping her gifted wings. 

 Kabbalah (tree of life) pryamids,  

Formulating Exits

Pointing to the “Chief CornerStone.”

The “one the builder’s rejected “

Hold on, victims’ of solidarity,

She parted many rivers

Closing the middle passage of suicide

Watching broken boats fly

Seven times,  

Shall we live,

Shall we live.

 

Poet:Krissy Mosley© 2014

Today’s prompt :writing a poem in another language. So my heart pulls toward that which I once studied but now it is a forgotten language to my tounge.Dedicated to my Swahili teacher Dr.Books, “Mama Titi” Something I created and put to song …Happy writing Amani
Translates: Two hands ,pray peace,mighty spirit, peace…

Mikono miwili,
Kuomba amani
Roho kuu
Amani

Where are you from;then I asked why?

Startled by my “Gele” my head tied.

With Iris-blue melodies, each layer gives me strength.

Daily rituals of positive formations, my tree is bent.

Portal of healing covering my head.

I am a queen in my own way.

Following  the God-One who hears me when I pray.

Lowering my eyes, calming down to listen.

Echoing noise of stillness.

Surrendering my monkey thoughts.

My nostrils flare, floating air is caught

Aborting all negativity.

Aborting all negativity.

Here I am in my process

Walking between the men.

Deeply undoing the hurtful stresses

This world can put me in.

This world can put me in.

Poet: Krissy Mosley All rights reserved 2014

Frankincense smothered,

beneath the withering bark of city trees.

Humming dig deep.

What shall I find?

A retrieved soul.

Many streams flowing of milk and honey.

Ghettos laid of straw.

Thankful,

my feet are walking.

Although I’ve struggled days without lights.

Thankful my hands are mighty.

Although my battles have been hard to fight.

Yes I’ve cried praying with my tears on the ground

I am a

Thankful soul.

Poet:Krissy Mosley©2014

 The stillness of water mimics the blue birds crackle.

She wrestled spring on her hips.

Aggressively painting sun-stained orange sometimes fiery-red.

Salivating with power on her tongue.

Blinking ,colliding two thoughts toward the sea of purpose.

Rolling down windows ,breaking into the attic to re-invent a voice of her own.

Poet Krissy Mosley.

 The awkward walking frogs came to greet me.

Leaping, and flying into my swamps 

Dancing in mud pies ,

Jet landing fruitflies shared a sting so sweet.

God’s earthlings’

without fret.

Sitting,rumbling,beating’

Live now….