Monthly Archives: April 2022

Weeping Warriors: Day30 #NaPoWriMo

Photo by Sourav Mishra on

My deepest desire, to sit inside 

a single teardrop, to know the deepest thing from tears

manna from heaven, to fall inside,

witness the chime and bell. A tall tale of woes,

 mewling, cooing, bursting little things

 have you ever cried over a box of chocolates 

have you ever put your best foot forward, 

have you ever had a silent scream,

ball up inside fetus position,   

returned -incarnations,- it be-

 rain from my own soul, nana’s scent, 

mascara running, leading a midnight of

stars, tangent pearls of rivers streaming

right in my own front yard. And just when you thought 

you were finished, an army of one, made you surrender, wave the 

white flag, shimmed you- upside down, say its’ name, 

I’m crying, and I’m proud.

Poet Krissy Mosley

Poet Krissy Mosley 2022

Gift of Garden Smiles Day 29 #NaPoWriMo

Photo by Wesley Carvalho on

In its’ most gentle power

are smiles like flowers 

 they’ll open -soft petals to you

hinty whiffs of lavender and dandelions 

to pick them clean off the bone 

relax the creaks of muscles 

stiff and achy joints

relieve the croaky moans

sending signals across the body-verse 

sigh of great relief, like a raisin born in the sun

shushing, quietly into borders

shushing away, worries of the day

so if you should sit a tiny bit, 

and feel its gentle power,

 I pray, your smile will contain, 

a glow of beauty for the soul, 

a gleaming light of peace 

luminous and grand,

morning in the heart,

 until nothing can resist 

this garden of smiles 

I pray.😊

Poet Krissy Mosley 2022

Glory Clouds: Day26 #NaPoWriMo

My little heart is full of joy as I woke to all of these beautiful poets cheering me on in today’s feature on Never in a million year’s did I think I’d hit the floor like that! Thank you so much, I’m honored and humbled to be with all of the poets . Okay on with today’s poem….

Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on

if I should be so bold to make it out 

of my own head, 

taste the sounds of stillness,

sit beside my own bed, as quiet streams, 

melt away the frays  of infirmity, 

breathe that first breath of daylight,

fires that spark, that quake, 

spindle,  loom 

aching in  the dark,

burning candles at both ends,

flame, steam, huffs-

puffs of purpose 

the sum total,


where the 

quiet bends.

Poet Krissy Mosley 2022

Gospel Of Rain #NaPoWriMo Day 25

Photo by Artem Saranin on

All night long I sat up listening to the sky 

breaking herself into the day 

clapping,moans, and thunderous -bay

causing me to wake, I stood outside 

about half- a while,

listening to the sky pray. 

eeking,and sinking heavy 

emanations abundantly -full


fragrantly , she smelled like roses 

picked after -thorns,

she smelled familiar like I knew her,

rain has descendants – tribal lessons on-the-go

on sidewalks you dare not be a child at heart and pass 

concrete puddles, splashing into the green-glass, 

beatitudes of leaks to bless your home, 

of wet wood, and floors to drip

O’ you thirsty soul 

you will sing -showers of blessings 

even me, let some drops now fall on me

Poet Krissy Mosley 2022

Painting the Sky with Poets: #NaPoWriMo Day 24

Photo by Devon Rockola on

In April I become as soft as rain 

trusting the distance in landing 

if every day was Sunday then I’d

paint the sky with the poets 

awaken, Amiri Baraka, and give us your chisel edge stroke “Who blew up America” 

awake, Gil Scott Heron, sideleaf brush as common folk “Living in the Bottle”

awaken, Phillis Wheatley, a fine stroke of transparency 

 “remember christan, Negroes Black as Cain

 May be refin’d and join th’angelic train”

awake, awake, get up  Mary Oliver “tell me what it is, 

you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

oh I could go on & live in sky-meetings  as words themselves,

 where the dead poets paint my world brand 



my sky would run -red with love 

as love is.. 

Poet Krissy Mosley

To My Grieving Friends: #NaPoWriMo Day23

Photo by Pok Rie on

Can I help stretch a smile across your face 

relieve a tiny spec of stress in any place

can I give you hug, a taste of gladness 

hidden-treasures throughout the madness,  

even if the tears must run,

 let them drop the dew, 

of the you -you are becoming…

and after that spit -fire 

slay dragons in their sleep

even the world can’t see you coming

A hidden-reprieve  

to pardon the weary spirit 

and put your soul at ease 

sooner than later 

we’ll exchange our holes of grief 

fletch us some sunshine

P.S. I’m here for you, until it passes 

your weeping warrior💜

Poet Krissy Mosley 2022

My Body is the Temple: aka Holy Ground Day22 #NaPoWriMo Happy Earth Day

by me

To pray you in the morning

as you reach the highest you 

blue moons make magic awakenings 

so rare, it only finds -you 

at the moment of your whole self 

anchored in the sweetest surprise of the gifts 

that you are breathing in the sparkling fleet of angels 

that ride, to carry into 

God aspirations, breathing out -your soul is prosperous 

and the bluebird sings her prayers in agreement

in answered prayers fields that moment you begin to pray

the prayer is heard, God thinking good- God thoughts about you

salt of the earth, a sound of many oceans, skipping out into the ethers’   

leaping joy -glory- bearing-joy, the burning bush, is always with you 

is always who you are,

so take off your shoes, you are

 holy ground,

holy ground.

you are.

Poet Krissy Mosley 2022

Bones of the Poem: Day21 #NaPoWriMo

Photo by Andrew Jones on

Let this poem, be the poem that finally 

swallows my ego, 

where i have died a thousand and one 

deaths, only to die again tomorrow, 

Let this poem be the blade of judgment, 

and bring back a compassionate plea,

blessed be the ointment of my soul, 

and I will know how it feels to feel, 

tears falling like monsoons out of season,

and I will know how it feels to feel, 

broken like the alabaster box at the feet of Jesus, 

and I will know how it feels to feel  alive, 

like the woman with the issued of blood,

twelve long years bleeding out

this single prayer,

and I will know this prayer sits at

 the door, patiently waiting for me,  

to come

home. Poet Krissy Mosley video created and spoken by me