Monthly Archives: June 2019

Teaching Mother’s and The Mother-Less

The truth bares its bone of bones and trade

they’d trade their spirits for red wine- roses picked clean.

mother began to sing, “Nobody Knows  the trouble I’ve seen,

She’d given birth to many of Nobody things- whose arms are those -she holds the pieces of missing girls, whose legs are these – she maps a journey- underground, wild-child, indigo, negro, brown, white girl, Latino – all the hurt is the same

Whose breast are these, whose lips, whose eyes?

one helped a man find a dog,

she never came back,

one on the playground in the schoolyard

one holds the riddle, thousands of men to ban abortion

Mother had forgotten – her body, her prayers, her arms, her legs

whose blood is this? Kindness sis Krissy



All- the things, I’ve Tamed

Not that I have it all together

but I hope to one day make you proud

Not that I’ve survived a thousand-summers

I’ve made it out somehow…

looking for God in all the wrong places

days piled on days, it’s crazy how it all sounds

and if, God’s not hiding- then where in the world?

I’m sure they’ve stock pilled him in churches

made him on huge billboard signs

I’m sure they’ve collected millions in the name of

a moneyless, God

God who does not need economics yet understand cosmic-flow

A God who does not need wishes yet has made many of dreams come true

but hears voices of the souls who are so close, they  can call

anytime and anywhere on the smallest spec of faith

through the depths in the lowest hell

through the miraculous wonders, unable to transcribe

there is God and here is God and anywhere you need God to be…. kindness sis Krissy






Where In the World have I been:



I’d gone away mostly

unnoticed, unremitted

evaporating against

a massively, spirited-feeling

God is rest

God is rest

God is rest…

I’d find

myself resting in God

God resting in me,

unbraided, imperial feeling

unbending – the velvet sky

even she purses a silent howl

the cares of living and sorrow

weary, plundered in the morrow

but  God if rest has come

far be it the days of work and sun

kindness sis. krissy Mosley