Tag Archives: mother

Space

Dear clutter, it’s been swell. Living underneath the piles of flimsy wash-cloths and moldy shelves.

I’ve tried, and you’ve lied, about the mess nobody makes.It takes courage to thoroughly clean,

Beneath basements and baseboards.

Look what we’ve become!

Shabby and raggedy,always nagging bout the times when you was as fine as oatmeal.

Please.

I’m not asking.Still my space..

The loaves

My tears are no ordinary waters.

It was here, my gut rose to take its place.Its gonna be alright.

My life, is gonna be alright.Have a small bite,

These rainy cycles of loving me.All because I indulged in dark cherry, brownies …

Wait never mind the calories…

Got down in the bottom of skillet,

feeling good…

Crazy

She picked and scratched her edges.Her uterus burst forth in hunger.

By default she gravitated toward evil and worshipped,

in meal,in song,in suffering.

Trying to hold crazy together.

Her crooked places made her stumbled in

Amen,Amen Amen.

Her Halleluiah, swallowed vigorously the evil she had married in her head,

sinner and saint.

Amen.Amen.Amen

She would be driven out in bullet holes,HIV,and over grown-fur coats.

Trying to hold crazy together.

Amen.Amen.Amen

Run.Run.

Run with your Amen

Trying to hold crazy together…

Sisters

She took her mind out for a short walk.Along the way,the left brain said to the right.

“They divided us and now we must work together!”

The shadows we boxed ,longing for stillness.Fragmented cavities of uncertainty.

Turning onto Cherry street; ant piles shaped the X sign on the sidewalk.

Little dirty children we use to be.Her spirit whistled like the wind.Her body found new land with skin and algae.Under holy waters she bathed daily.

Erupted tides of new beginnings.

Poet Krissy Mosley

Frosty Day

I came here, ready to write the day away.

I stubbed my toe against a corner closet-step.

I warmed my coffee pot instead. 

Flopping down to the chair that needed me, like everything else in the room:

the children crying, my plants are dying, the cold called me too.

I grabbed my socks put them on, fed the babies with tiny spoons.

Sipped my mocha piping hot and then I could not write.

Ah-ey, there goes my day.