THEODORE MOSLEY
THEODORE MOSLEY Poems
I CAN'T BREATHE
My life is not mine to sojourn with others, as I live within my corridors of hatred.
I hear the silent thoughts of others, with temptations of actions that burn their desires.
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IMITATION OF LIFE
Walking in the wilderness of sin, the rivers of unbelief become the foundation of mortal graves as they fed their flesh of tomorrow.
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TREES DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT
At the dawning of time we look and find creation on the eyes of the creator.
The seas and the mountains are waking to the touch of smiles coming from heaven.
We see the trees dancing in the moonlight and the stars begin to explore darkness for resting.
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WHERE ARE WE HEADED
The footnotes of the fields have taught us nothing as we wake up in the dawn of the morning.
We were a people of kings and queens and our heritage was our proclamation of time.
Forsaken in time we bled on the fields of cotton and on the monastery of waves of distant lands.
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WE LIVE HERE
Walking the streets of humanity with the intentions of living for life, we find our reward on the other side of bondage.
Living for freedom, we hear the words of your chains holding our mind to the fields of your fires.
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WE CRY OUT
Colossal fires of hatred and the sound of our liberty is extinguished with our resolve of life.
Don't look upon me and see the phantom of darkness residing within your culture of righteousness.
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Walking the streets of time I became the enemy of the system that said you are not worthy of the streets you walk on.
My life became the object of their disdain as I walked the concrete jungle for ways to live in my humanity.
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Midnight black and majestic his swagger is strong and elegant in his domain of life.
With precision and fluidness he moves from the sky to the earth.
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Her absolute mind of independence while serving her king is her humility.
Her battles are fought in the palace with her words of encouragement.
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On the hills of life and living in a world where justice and freedom was handcuffed day and night.
We wanted to give education to uneducated lives being destroyed because of our difference.
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He was on his way home from school and seen a puppy playing alone.
Grabbing the puppy he was grabbed and his sight was taken from him.
My name is Michael and I woke up inside a cage with other crying children.
Scared and crying he wanted to run but his fear held him inside his cage.
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Days of sorrow have passed and nights of wanting to find solace in arms of deceit are withdrawn.
His body of troubles is being comforted with eyes of love and kindness.
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Alcolu South Carolina in 1929 is where I received my breath of life in freedom as a young black man and in June of 1944 my history began with my death.
Freedom of speech to 11 year old Betty June Binnicker and 8 year old Mary Emma Thames concluded my dreams of life.
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TREASURES HIDDEN
Carved out of the mountains in time where we lived came the chains of transformation
The hills of restoration and conservation became burial grounds for the first chapter.
Detained and destitute we watched the stars disappear in the eyes of our captors.
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IN THE STORM OF NIGHT
My heart was filled with love that time could not imagine ever existed.
No one could have told me life was not without the hollowness of pain.
I embraced the thoughts of being carried away on the silhouette of my mind.
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My days are heard in the hollow of your mind when the words of my mouth have no audience.
Launched in the deep space of your rhetoric I am grounded in the prison of your being.
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From the ashes of the mind he arose to the pendulum of a man in time.
When the doors of life closed his flesh the doors of his mind expanded.
Searching the heavens he found the whispers of the wings of angels.
Collaborating with the throne of grace he became the instrument of justice.
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A MOTHER TO LOVE
She is on a distant land within her mind as she crosses the path of her life for all to see.
Her days are without hands of forgiveness as she enters her world of torture that holds her.
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STAYS AT MY SIDE (A MOTHER'S LOVE)
Her life is known throughout time to compass the emotions of trust and nurture from within her womb.
Time is bringing her into the cries of the night as she secures her freedom from unknown territory.
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THEODORE MOSLEY Biography
Theodore Mosley was born in Hopkins, South Carolina and raised in the South Bronx, New York. He now resides in San Diego, CA, with his wife and children and holds an Associate of Arts degree in Business Administration. A prolific and brilliant rising author and poet, Mosley has been writing for many years of his adult life. Only recently in the past year has his creative relationship with the pen moved to a higher plateau. In February 2018, Theodore published his first book with Outskirts Press. "Your Secrets My Lies" is a fast-moving dramatic novel that examines the maze of possibilities that can exist between people, who hold deep secrets, harbor lies as reality, and battle the freak nature of the darkness that lurks within. Theodore Mosley's gift of writing displays itself profoundly within the vivid pictures he paints in each of his original works. No subject is taboo or off limits to his probing, sometimes challenging, imagination that ranges from the power of love and nature to the personal struggles of relationships of injustice. All of his writings are encased by his great love for God and his desire for spiritual growth and development. In addition to being a first-time author, to date, Theodore has shared his poetic works in forums such as " The Upstart Crow Bookstore & Coffee House" San Diego, CA, online magazines "Black Star News" New York, NY, "The Chocolate Voice" Chula Vista, CA, and " Ujima Magazine" Austin, TX. He has also written poems for his workplace group, "African American Association of County Employees", aka AAACE. Theodore attends the Full Gospel Church of God In Christ located in San Diego, CA where he is an ordained minister, willingly serving as God allows. He attributes all of his gifts and talents to the God that he loves and serves, and looks forward to achieving greater literary heights.)
The Best Poem Of THEODORE MOSLEY
I Can'T Breathe
I CAN'T BREATHE
My life is not mine to sojourn with others, as I live within my corridors of hatred.
I hear the silent thoughts of others, with temptations of actions that burn their desires.
Created in time, I became the insults of emotions that penetrated the features of mankind.
I can't breathe when I talk to my children about life that disposes them to unheralded death.
Escaping a dream to bring forth the calculated calligraphy, I expose them to the surveillance of my mind.
Without endangerment I succumb to their prison and freefall to the explanation of their insanity.
Dreaming of a white Christmas I surpass their amazement of my intellect without notice to vacate.
I can't breathe when I remind them that life is without dissimulation according to their knowledge.
In the silence I prepare my hearing for the eruption of contusions that follow my culture to emptiness.
Sharing dreams, my vitality becomes their weakness to harbor nights of unseen decrypted graves.
The stage is set; I uplift my soul to attend the land of unforeseen riches as I break the chains of my life.
I can't breathe when my mind is stimulated to uncover archeological research to capture life.
Showcasing natural abilities, the sheets are confounded with medicine, science and unspoken belief.
The ashes resounded me, the graves collected me and resilience confronted me to breathtaking heights.
Nights are no longer my window pain of destruction but my creativity of unsurmountable horizons.
I can't breathe when I encounter the Nobel Peace Prize that tells me freedom has anchored my walk.
Sifting through the clothes of injustice, we find the sheets of the night collaborating with suits of the day.
The two-edge sword is carving its blood on the face of urban society caught in hopelessness.
We conspire with our voices only to be imprisoned with dormitories of rhetoric to comfort our eyes.
I can't breathe with the family that was entrusted to me to prosper according to the CREATOR.
Singing the songs of apartheid we are released to another dimension of plantations for cultivating.
Your complexion is your death sentence and your clothes are gravediggers' royalties.
My eyes are surrounded with blood and the street has me incarcerated within your prison.
I can't breathe within the natural state of my life with your unconditional development of life.
December 15,2014
THEODORE MOSLEY Comments
Theodore writes with a fire that searches the soul for answers and leaves the aftermath to your own personal experiences; fierce and relaxing; revolutionary and peaceful.
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4/25/2024 5:56:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Very talented poet in poem hunter..