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:

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 

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Mother on the Ledge


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:

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

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How will I be happy?


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

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Like a Tree ( Napowrimo, Day 30)

wartey trees

Trees of my leaves

Waving vigorously

Leaves of freedom

Leaves of love

Leaves of hope

Leaves of my soul

Sleeping branches

Transforming leaves

Carrying seeds

These leaves

Are Humanity…

Poet Krissy Mosley all rights reserved 2014

Written for: my ancestors, for humanity,”Yea shall be like the tree planted by the rivers of water.You shall not be moved.”

Sons’ of God (Napowrimo Day 29)

world on fire“The Sons’ of God went unto the daughter’ of men”

Multiplying Giants running Ball in the NBA.’

Slavery’s best dun-kin,squat-in’

Sundays’ a  lying day.

“Owner Banned for Life.”

Clippers’ will be sold

Fishy-frothy butts baking’ cinnamon clothes.

Plastering  over cigarette smoke

Only five minutes to loose religion.

Skitta was drowning in un- forgiveness

She spent her time birthing transformers

Cutting metal with her teeth.

Oh the singing got next to me

Ganga jamaa (healing community)

Ganga miti (healing Trees)

“The Sons’ of God went unto the daughters of men”

Racism bouncing ethnic balls camouflaged sports. ‘.

Following the writing prompt I really tried. Skita is my nick name because I was always skinny.Swahili my forgotten tongue.

In-which I had to look up these words. I truly try to follow the ways of Christ but stumble sometimes.Peace,my fellow writes.


Poet: Krissy Mosley all rights reserved