Author Archives: Visionariekind

About Visionariekind

Krissy Mosley is a story-teller. Recalling stories to build bridges of peace. A folklorist to bring sounds of joy and healing vibrations. Krissy Marie is a writer /feminist, mother advocating for change surrounding women’s rights and women's’ issues.

Pieces of My Tears

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in my private moment of stolen grief

by public views of what appears

to be a happier version of me

what appears in blink of thunder and flash

to protect brokenness as leaky puddles

of someday when change comes

someday when the world is full stupid some-days

we can’t be tired of being sick and tired too long

because too many of us are dying under the burden of grief

head stones that roll away love in private pastures, shouting to the pieces of the soul that fly. Stay a little longer and let me be human with holes in the middle of my flesh and wounds that remember the safety in the someday when we go home where love is~kindness sister Krissy

Looking for Goodness

our eyes meet

in the coolness of the evening

where

I still believe in sunshine

where goodness can be

in all that is good

everything that good is made of

must lie somewhere in a hidden field of red poppies

powerful enough to heal a desperate

world.

~kindness sister Krissy

Drive Through Worship

I attended a drive through service

not like the fried chicken joint on the corner

or the liquor store that’s never

close. This worship, broken, by parked cars in cramp

parked spaces. Horns tutted, as tambourines.

the shocks on our SUV’s are gone. Reverberating

communion, the preacher dressed in gladness

through the madness of a pandemic

we joined car to car to worship

under the sunshine, under the decaying cross

dripping with mortals singing.

Three block away from where I live

in nature we drive away

having received God in our cars.

kindness sister Krissy

Finding Morning

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Hello, Morning its been a while since

you and I sat down -to share a hug or a smile.

these days don’t come easy, there’s been lots of soul-washing -feelings,

feels like latter rain of latter days

cloud gatherings that tell me how God dips my coffee-made soul deep down in honey

then I’m not alone and the bees are there to pollinate my tears into honeycombs

that tells me all my fears have drawn to the surface something that’s always been eroding

and finally when there’s nothing left to save

my soul and I find morning

kindness sister

One Hundred and Twenty Versions Of My Come Back Stance :

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I knew I still had some come back left in me,

I wanna be off the radar doing good

so good for the first time in a long time my socks match

with the those pink and green toes in the morning

doing so good, I’d wake up satisfied in

my own black coffee- they’d be singing folktales to me

hold my smile in the middle of adversity

braid my hair in milk and honey

with a splash of turmeric and cardamom

because there’s nothing better than that

golden life flowing, down on the inside

being the best of me

reaching for the rest of me

…~kindness sister

Where There’s Hope ~There’s Possibility, That’s where you’ll find me:

after the madness of darkness

after the portals of shattered things

such as tattered lint falling, slowly into spring

hope is a mother’s touch, unable to hold her child

undefined hope has room to grow

knowing the love of a mother, her love is still there

Hope like a wounded bird, pecking its’ way, untapped,

through the holes of despair, pecking at daylight

pecking at the seam

breaking through norms of dying

undue the burden, somethings gotta give

cracking at the yoke- wide with wings,

feeling high in the moment , a gush, a rescued touch

the ebb of love-ones’ emerge

believing, even when I’m weak

there’s possibility~ kindness sister

In the Ring Of Isolation: I Got Crazy-Stupid faith: Aka: I keep Getting Up

When sadness comes for me

I’ll be dancing my way in poetry

down bean pods in limbo, breaking my awkward pause

to feel the thud, to crawl when I can’t walk

sling, by sling, thump by thump

I’m alive

wrestling madness private eye ,

my swing is stupid,

my right hook, even I didn’t see it coming

I wade in stillness,

I wade in crazy-stupid faith

I wade and breathe in the music,

hold-up the cotton- candy sky

mint and saffron in all my daze

teleport sadness, inside

drizzle refreshing, dash, pip, bop and blow

ring the bell, shake and shake

I’m ready this time.

~Kindness