Mystical Well
side bones,
Brought me here,
like jazz and blues
I dig in high waters…
(Day 1: Haiku) Bones Made of Water
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Tag Archives: writing life
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…
To the Pen…
I write to keep my rhythm and string.Sometimes Its all I have, while life abandon’s me.Centering all my ticks and tocks.Cultivating these itchy thoughts. A healthy word a day keep the demons at bay. Regenerating word-cells ; if it were not for writing I would be alone.
Poet:Krissy Mosley
A Poet's Vision 