Thinly sliced sections of her heart carefully laid bare an inner dissection to find the magnificence of awe that is her heartwisdom. Following faded peak moments mindfully mapped on her skin. Elevations reached, views of reckoning and contours fallen from while yearning led to an evolution of her topography. She continues to traverse past valleys while climbing toward her next becoming still a proposed expedition. © Alicia Grimshaw Rewrite from 2019 dVerse Open Link Night - Join the fun HERE Join me for a writing circle Let me hold space for your voice to appear on the page. Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle, Friday, June 25, 10:00 – 11:30 am PDT Register here
a poem is a door opening backward or sliding sideways for full human viewing a poem invites Awe's cousin Curiosity, to join you for a seat on a soft metaphor then reminds you to lean back a poem offers scaffolding for fear, for wonder for whatever arrives next with structure and airflow so nothing gets too stagnant including you and passing light through a green passageway ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 Photo taken in Porto, Portugal. Quadrille "Curiosity" on dVerse Poet's Pub - Join the fun HERE
“They started to burn the poets
But ash makes for more fertile soil.” – Khet Thi
if they are only words if they are only lines scratched in stone if only poems from one heart how could they be so dangerous to those with guns so threatening that the flame of one must be put out so powerful that extinguishing one wasn't enough I hear the call of lost poets their voices speak on to those willing to receive their light
I was stunned by this article, Where Poets Are Being Killed and Jailed After a Military Coup by Hannah Beech, New York Times. In honor of these lost poets I wanted to share their story. These words of mine feel so inadequate and that is why I am promising to remember the courage of these poets whenever I doubt the power of poetry.
May we find peace.
Join me for a writing circle
Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle,
Friday, June 25, 10:00 – 11:30 am PDT Register here
“Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.” – The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, 2013 –
your arms around me encircled together heart to heart someday I will touch a photo this moment's embrace replaying this day until then I am noticing the feeling while I still have you near I am memorizing the shape of holding you holding me ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 Photo of my son and I on my birthday 2020. Poetics on dVerse Poets Pub - Come join the fun HERE.
“Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before.” – Audre Lorde
Come write with me
throw your words on the wall
Splattering in play.
See which ones stick.
Watch which ones fall.
See the bridge
that you have forgotten.
The girl inside you
is longing to get messy.
©Ali Grimshaw 2021
Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle
Friday, June 4, 8:30 – 10:00 am PDT. Register here
Photo taken in Amsterdam.
it may seem obvious but once you begin tangles will grow a lie's life all it's own vines wound round tightened with retelling knotted numbers of mistruths curled to choke your heart from the inside out disrupting the ecosystem of yourself edging toward extinction ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 What's in a word? Quadrille for dVerse Poets Pub - Join a friendly community of poets HERE
releasing herself to the sky to feel the lift let her weight trust in the invisible courage of currents surf soaring free up, over and through this unexpected windscape surrendering her need to know to resolve to figure it out arms wide, in full float with the faith of a bird that doesn't remember a day without flight or a time of being grounded ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 dVerse Open Link Night - Join in the fun HERE. Photo taken in Bozeman, Montana, USA.
I am in the trough between crests of fear a briefness then surprise I let another wave pass through me after the cold slap initial sting, I realize I am still here It is unexpected knowing my history of being pulled under Now I tread my legs strongly sure lift my face skyward with dare ©Ali Grimshaw 2021
Let’s change the way we talk about depression and suicide. Here is a link to the full article Why mental health advocates use the words ‘died by suicide’, from which these valuable points were gathered.
Please use “died by suicide,” instead of “committed suicide,” as it removes culpability from the person who has lost their life and allows a discussion about the disease or disorder from which they were suffering. Let’s move away from blame toward compassionate language.
Not everyone who suffers from depression will have suicidal thoughts. And not everyone who has suicidal thoughts will act on them.
“Speak with your loved one about how they are feeling and encourage help-seeking by way of the many resources available, including the American Association for Suicide Prevention and American Association of Suicidology.
Be direct in your conversations. Dr. Klich finds that because suicide is so stigmatized (and also, just a really tough thing to talk about), people tend to skirt around the issue, or even unintentionally steer victims of suicidal thoughts toward a reassuring answer.
Confidential support is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week by way of the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-TALK)
Becoming Can I still declare I am becoming? There are no vast tomorrows in my future Imagining The Creator Does He still admire his handiwork? No longer does my body bear fruit my womb barely remembers giving life stretch marks have become old road markers now rendered dusty, leading nowhere my thoughts at times confuse me I leave out words wondering where do they disappear Between my mind and fingers in motion hair on my head, now strands resembling common condiments pay homage to seasoned memories what few remain allowed to go their own way they have known submission followed each latest hair trend yet, I continue occupying this body it no longer needs to become acceptance of time confirms I am still here alive nothing thrown at me forced me to recoil never once did I resolve to ever just look back. By Aissatou Sunjata 5/7/21 I am grateful for Aissatou’s permission to share her poem from the writing circle. I continue to meet amazing women across different time zones. Writing together provides a mirror for us to process life in a place where we have all agreed to listen with compassion. Come join us for a writing circle. Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle Friday, May 21, 8:30 am PDT. Register here
Let me hold space for your voice to appear on the page.
Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle
Friday, May 21, 8:30 – 10:00 am PDT. Register here
Tickets are by donation.