Running with the Trees Day 25) Napowrimo

kneal1:

Last- Sunday’s message of Hope- Peace and much Love

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

marathon_photos014

Horizontally stretched in opposite direction

A runner’s stance – orchestrated

to go the distance.

Measuring her (stride)full -breath

each vibrating  tentacles

evoking the wind

There are earthquakes, of explosions in all directions

no  isolated acts in tragedie

each mother’s child

Just a step in way of  bombing blows of9’11

Just a gunshot away of Walter Scott

Run with me-

Her elbows are rubbed in hope’s grease

her heart pumping in endurance

and though darkness has comes

She has no legs to run

her eyes glare at the finish

her strength arose from the rims of despair

 Running to a

that place where hurt shall be no more

Running to the trees touch that sky

running for her freedom

running because I count too!

Running for my life

Running,

laying,- aside my fears

Running. to grow my trees,

again…

This poem is inspired by: Oklahoma Bombings, Events9’11 and the current tragedy…

View original 3 more words

Love’s Tree

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

                   Inflamed earthquakes

                   Invisible to my cry

                   I saw love tenderly tending,

Exchanging her life for me

I saw love marching to a lovers’ drum

I saw love hanging between two thieves

With vinegar stained lips

“The Temple’s Veil” torn in two

“Forgive them,” that’s what I saw love do!

View original

Mercy Seat

kneal1:

Hidden gems we are…
Called into the deep

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

In the attic my sanctuary
under the mercy seat
enchanted voices blossom
I hear you calling me, through the gates of praise
                             Into the holies of holies
                             I’ll find me,here I stand,
                             I belong with you,
                             No more excuse,I laid it down
So here I stand under the mercy seat,
you are my only guide ,my inner source
you in me and I in you

View original

Love in Ten

kneal1:

Thought about you. In this Moment, where love is , our treasures , our hopes ,our dreams …Mother Bethel and the Blogging World… God who makes all things New…Love is…

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

  1. Love is my feel-good tea.
  2. My Sunday Morning Hey-Ya,
  3.  My shake and bake,
  4. Love is the things I can not see.
  5. Love is my power, no man can control
  6. Love is letting go.
  7. Love is effortless.
  8. Love is how the trees are made.
  9. Love is my whirlwind
  10. Love is leaping through the universe.

“God is Love”

invited to do Love in ten Sentences posted by:

themissiontomars.wordpress.com/2015/03/01/love-in-10-sentences/

View original

Love Hand in Hand

kneal1:

In Honor of Martin Luther King Jr and Loving humanity…

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

Love was born violently shedding through the night.

And night she was beautiful playing hide and seek with the children.

Suffocating, bending, and jolting.

Love was born hand in hand.I saw love, hungry to feed my brokenness working two jobs,to give peace and teach me happy,

“ElShaddi,ElElyon,ElRoi,ElYisreal,Yeshua,Jah,Jehovah Shammah,Jehovah- Rapha,Jehovah Shalom”.I saw love.

Reviving the sluggish souls,to shake, whooshing, to breathe,Love was born unarmed ,uncounted,with her hands up Love was born beautifully in the night.

View original

Together

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

While the shoes are gathered together

I think of Philly,

no feet walking, just shoes

of where we could go

aligned with blue-black night

I think of London’s skyline

I think of my people

Old man Jack

frozen in the snow

Of “Maya Angelou”

“All God’s children have shoes”

I think of El Paso

and I’ll put on shoes

Poet:Krissy Mosley

View original

Waiting

kneal1:

After the summer I miss blogging,I miss Mother Bethel family Peace and Many blessings,I’m not so good at posting but here is my latest …

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

I been waiting for Nigerian thunder,

moving against cast-iron trees

cleansing my skin with maple sap

 lost in my native tongue tapping my hands

towards the land

my song,my fight

I’m waiting on me…

Krissy Mosley2014 all rights reserved 

View original

Mother on the Ledge

kneal1:

Hi, everyone I originally wrote this poem last year. I am this this Mother
Finding her self while losing.To all women On the Edge of Life. Be Bless. Today I will believe in myself and my ability to do my best. Poet Krissy Mosley all rights reserved

Originally posted on kneal1 Poetry:

She stopped to tie her shoe while cleaning up the broken home.

Bent up with rage and exhaustion.

The young mother still in her nightgown.

Her three children all fast asleep

thoughts gathered like a “New England storm”.

There was no turning back .

Silent with tears streaming the end was near ,

all she had to do was jump.

Throw yourself into your purpose,

leap into your destiny!

Let go of all the dead passion.

Drive hard

swim underwater ,

run fast,

lift up your saggy breast.

Put on your best fashion.

Move out of the dark

pack up all the hatred,

its time for peace!!!

Poet Krissy Mosley

View original

How will I be happy?

kneal1:

Please give us back our girls…Its been over two weeks.

Still we scream….

A time of peace

A time to fight

A time to restrain our tears

A time of Hope

Originally posted on This is a Thing:

She escaped.
Sick with grief,
she fasts and prays
for the others’ release.

Two hundred more
are still captive,
as long as this is fact,
“how will I be happy?”

Nigeria’s stolen girls — May 1, 2014

View original

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 116 other followers