Monthly Archives: April 2015

Send me (Day 30 NaPowrimo

Ode my spirit


chimer -ing straws of memories

I was called here

bumming rides on-wombs of mercy

Ode spirit – shivering greatness -in birth

Ham-bone and grinning

Junes’  Snow

Blueberry oak

Expanding in Milk and Honey

Ode spirit,

I’ve come…

I’ve come, home.

Day Thirty


Safety (Day 29,NaPoWriMo

Ivory Gull Svartnes harbour Vardø march22nd 2015 in flight over water sign © Amundsen Biotope

(Free google image)

His hat hung just above the tiled brow.

Formerly he wore his best,

High altered pursuit -Ivory Grey

Drinking -dusty winds

Perching, gently its blue-ish bill.

Practicing his craft on human-rubbish

Gliding his hallowed cry – eeeer.

Against  ghetto ‘s, sand-dunes,war zones and cliffs too 

Robotic faces shhing  feathered hands

 still on he came,

Proudly, shaking the bear,

Resiliently, greeting lion cubs,

Flying parallel with each blustery storm.

Protected by the universe, Mr. Sea Gull.

Today I did not follow the prompt, I’ve gone my own way. I meet a beautiful friend today and thought I’d share my feelings. National Poetry is coming to a close.I felt much pressure writing. I’ve enjoyed each fresh rhythmic line. I have much to be thankful for. Writing is my water,my glass-slippers to the ball.My healing. Writing is my friend. All Rights Reserved 2015.

Please check out NaPoWriMo here for today’s prompt if you like:

Day Twenty-Nine


Spoons (Day 28 NaPoWriMo

Sanity -Night,

Hog-weeds are much taller in late-spring.

Miles of untapered

Normality-falling into


Hearts-pumping in misery

Watching the sun and moon hold hands

pressing breast to breast -ironsmithing, effervescent


Fabric-wrapping Emerald’s

Violet kisses  through subway tracks,

stretching printed patterns that make each girl,


giggling in spoons of love.

In this poem I give my abstract attempt of bridge in love…So as I saw the moon and I saw the sun too I say “well now these two gift me such a delightful treat…and  that’s when the words came..

Today’s prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about bridges. A bridge is a powerful metaphor, and when you start looking for bridges in poems, you find them everywhere. Your poem could be about a real bridge or an imaginary or ideal bridge. It could be one you cross every day, or one that simply seems to stand for something larger – for the idea of connection or distance, for the idea of movement and travel and new horizons.

Happy writing!

Growing Day 27) Napowrimo- Variant Haiku

Tranquil #1Planting

tree space

in my soul.


watered holes

turning over anew.


inward growth

preparing for harvest.

As (April )National Poetry Month is quickly passing- I am blessed today with all goodness and kind words, flowing on my blog and others(such positive goodness) . Please visit if you haven’t

Day Twenty-Seven

The dedication bloggers have-its in our blood. I understand this habit of writing and sharing. As (my grand) daddy would say  Howdy-“keep milking the cows,chase a hens or two that’s good livin!”… I am thankful for this space to write. There is nothing more beautiful,when I look around and see love…

And today’s prompt – optional, as always — comes to us from Vince Gotera. It’s the hay(na)ku). Created by the poet Eileen Tabios and named by Vince, the hay(na)ku is a variant on the haiku. A hay(na)ku consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words. You can write just one, or chain several together into a longer poem. For example, you could write a hay(na)ku sonnet, like the one that Vince himself wrote back during NaPoWriMo 2012!

Happy writing!

Let’s Travel -Day 26) Napowrimo

In the words of my  -Great Aunt Ella ( I attempt the Persona Poem)

This is a story often told as a child growing up- I never met my Great Aunt God rest her soul.


“S-O-B treat me like that I’d kill-em all over again!

And If ya wanna go to hell-let’s travel!

He kept makin- that uh-noise

so I’se kept stitching me -dress.

I called the coroner  office -as soon as he stopped.


I’ve,never seen a man raise -his hand to a woman and live –

not while I’m good and


 Today, I challenge you to write a persona poem – a poem in the voice of someone else. Your persona could be a mythological or fictional character, a historical figure, or even an inanimate object. Need some examples? Check out this persona-poem-themed issue of Poemeleon from a few years back.

Happy writing!

Running with the Trees Day 25) Napowrimo


Horizontally stretched in opposite direction

A runner’s stance – orchestrated

to go the distance.

Measuring her (stride)full -breath

each vibrating  tentacles

evoking the wind

There are earthquakes, of explosions in all directions

no  isolated acts in tragedie

each mother’s child

Just a step in way of  bombing blows of9’11

Just a gunshot away of Walter Scott

Run with me-

Her elbows are rubbed in hope’s grease

her heart pumping in endurance

and though darkness has comes

She has no legs to run

her eyes glare at the finish

her strength arose from the rims of despair

 Running to a

that place where hurt shall be no more

Running to the trees touch that sky

running for her freedom

running because I count too!

Running for my life


laying,- aside my fears

Running. to grow my trees,


This poem is inspired by: Oklahoma Bombings, Events9’11 and the current tragedy in “Nepal”

This side of me Day(24) Napowrimo

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-


Walked off my happy porch


Lawd have Mercy!

A flat


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).

Fixed Day 23 Napowrimo

Five buckets of love

Above Ash Place street

Spirits,on the floor, laughing , such a soothing fall.

Her wig fell straight into the offering plate ,

all because her fix was twisted

I pulled the joker’s card and did me no good

I attended Church @ Bedside Baptist

Farting on oak wood,

while the people praise the Lord…

An old woman sneered said  “you ought to be a shame!”

I guess I couldn’t help it!!!

Void Day (22) Happy Earth Day Napowrimo

If I look for yesterday, I won’t ever find him.

Certainly not while the sun has gathered her children.

If I thought about tomorrow,

I’d be paralysed  looking out my rearview.

I thought about traveling. I’d go to Venus, I’m not sure why.

Rambling on, I must.

Mother, she has a way that moves me .

Just how do evergreens stay so true?

Just how are the flurries flying in April?

I am fond of the animals that eat their skin course,

I never want to meet them.

This Poem makes no sense

but it feels good to vent.

I had some issues with my blog site So you won’t find day 21 for Napowrimo, I have changed themes still trying to find a theme that works for me(free is good) Nevertheless all is well. Hey things happen. I’ve gotta make the best of it and laugh real hard… Feeling Alive ,happiness is all…Much love to all the writers/Poets/ and bloggers in WordPress…

About Me: `Kindness Sister`

Welcome to my page:

I come from a long line of women. I was raised, partially in San Antonio TX. The latter teen yrs onward in Philadelphia PA. I not only observed but also engaged in the daily bread-winning process in my family. My mother and her three kids: picked cans, served at church, washed our clothes in the bathtub saying our prayers like mantras toward a mellow-yellow sky.

Growing up, I could not wait to be on my own. Thinking that I’d make better choices than my mother. The days and years turned, like pages of fire,  burning strong. The test of times against my skin.

The most unforgettable moment as a child was my mother coming to my basketball practice to pick me up early due to the pouring rain. We didn’t have a car at this time. So she used what she had.

There she was, my mother, soaking wet on her “ten-speed bike.” She told the coach “yeah I’m here to get  Krissy,  so she doesn’t walk home in the rain.” The coach looked in shock like a deer in headlights.

Coach: Krissy, your mom’s here.

I could hear the laughter from the other girls as I rode away with my mother in the rain on the only source of a vehicle at the time.

Stars, moons, and suns later, I went to college. To better myself. Taking out school loans like any other youngster without an inheritance. It was my sophomore and junior years that challenged my faith and commitment. I was diagnosed was rare allergic environmental eczema which made my skin irritated, itchy, swollen all over, unable to attend class regularly and taking cortisone steroid shots.

Needless to say, I got well. I pulled my grades up and graduated. I  journeyed on, like a lioness crossing the Sahara desert. I got married and changed jobs like the weather- wearing jeans on a cloudy day.

My motto: I’m not dead yet!

Thanks for following me~your Kindness sister Krissy Mosley