The Basic need of human life must be art in all forms~kindness sister Krissy
Monthly Archives: December 2019
One Sentence:Too Close To Christmas
Let it be love, and let love be…
kindness sister Krissy
God Always Gives Tiny Surprises: Aka Growing in tiny steps with you: 1,000 & Counting
I’m sure of the Sunrise
In many ways we dream almost golden, the thorns that might arise breaking the nightfall. beyond the need of intelligence or intellect. A flower unveiling petal by petal, knowingly, the day awaits us to the sweet looming light,
Soft timid blooming- press
turning the world around in a spec
that it is the earth’s kindness as she brings
icy lakes, black and white snow
mud piles on the road
journey attending,
as we go …
kindness sister Krissy
Wordless Wed: Family:
Off the Shelf: Aka: Sometimes I Roam & Wonder:
It feels as if I am a cork bottle, on the blue wide open sea. Good things floating all around me. Why is it? Am I not floating? I have no control on which way the wind blows or the course my life seems to be…
but I do appreciate calming tidal waves, bouncing, boisterous spiced aromas drifting.
There’s a longing, to never be alone, another to one to be found hiding. In arms of something called home, something called -ones’ own.
Virtuous finding,
kindness sister Krissy
One Sentence:
All I want for Christmas is peace and safety for all humans.
Wordless…
Pixabay.com
Dear Writers’ Burnout:
Dear writers’ burnout, I’ve stepped lightly under your thumb. Ghastly, recording -jet-lag, blistered-sketched. Riding on fumes alone
alarming ping, the hum, the blow-
singed by the leak of my own.
Habitual crawling towards more white-paper,
the rugged red/table-legs of fire,
I no longer sit down- while oceans are bleeding
I no longer stroke black and white keys,
I no longer dig my heels into my wounds- so I let them…
I no longer key-up the engine
I can’t feel the motor-less hum
In that way, I play the frolicking multi colored peacock
feathering a pretentious prance.
In that way, I am a fool, foolishly
chewing up words/undigested at the red table
Come dine,
sit with me, til the smoke has cleared
and there will be words to write/mountains to climb
and there will be more…
I pray, that my hour of darkness does not cast her shadow
I pray, that you and I find a simple answer
I pray, your stay is not prolonged
In this note you’ll find your bags,
P.S. I’ve kept my pen.
kindness sister, Krissy
I Never wake up Pretty:
while today is today, my mind might as well be a someday kinda brain, with all its’ trash-talking, ideas that be a load of crap in the morning, wannabe- hoping that its gonna be , and by then
I’m standing outside on checkered white curb,
with a muddy puddles of water
one-inch from my brown good-will suit.
On my way to the rest of my life
and a dark blue Sudan drives by
splashes rounds and rounds of puddles onto my good-clothes.
Now I’m heading home- telling myself
well’-there’s always tomorrow. 🙂
kindness sister Krissy