awe is beauty’s cousin
his arms around her
tipping her chin up
toward the light
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
inspiration
Cultivate – Poem by Ali Grimshaw
Shadowed understory no longer needed
sprout through old layers of indecision
boldly bolt toward sunlight to come.
Regardless of broken branches,
depleted soil from years
of growing the same crops.
Angle for full height, extension
of reach, beyond what is
expected of your species.
Grow yourself beyond
the gardens of your past
self.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
“Both abundance and lack exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities. It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend.” – Sarah Ban Breathnach
Open Link Night – d’Verse Poets Pub
365 Pages of 2018 – a poem by Ali Grimshaw
I wrote across
and down the page
sometimes diagonal doodles
to break through lines
that I refused, not willing
to be penned in.
Editing bled and tore through
to pages underneath.
Grateful for a thick tablet
layers of mistakes on the way to golden
this party called life, waking up
to attend, embrace the tousled mess
tumbles, triumph, trembles of love
that live outside of words.
The minutes are not guaranteed
savor this very one.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Each year I celebrate getting to live another year by writing a birthday poem. I hope this inspires you to author your life. What story are you writing this year? These bloggers have inspired my next chapter; Debbie at Forgiving Connects , Colleen at The Chatter Blog, Val at Find Your Middle Ground, Miriam at Out an’ About, and Brad at Writing To Freedom
Here is the link to last year’s birthday poem 365 Pages.
May love touch your day.
Ali
ON A SPACE CALLED LAND
The voice of a poem can pull your feet from the muck and this one did so for me this morning. Therefore, I am sharing it forward with the hope that it free your feet as well. It comes from SINGING HEART POEMS, STORIES & MUSINGS BY KAREM BARRATT
ON A SPACE CALLED LAND
And so it happens that we are all walkers:
Runners, joggers, skippers;
Trail blazers, some of us.
Path finders.
And that is the answer of the ages.
Of the “who am I” and “what am I doing here.”
We are machete wielders, creating
The path unique to ourselves,
To our laughter and our tears.
We are charterers of the unknown
Jungles that our lives are, similar
To many, yet different in every sense.
We do not travel the road less travelled:
We create the way.
We build the bridge, draw the maps,
Write the memoirs that the
Next generation will forget or
Misunderstand, because I am not
You, nor you I, and my yellow
Brick road is blondish, buttery white,
Whilst yours is coppery gold.
And so, like the Spanish poet
Said, dear walker, there is no road.
The road is rendered by your feet when
You start your walk.
And that is life. And who you are.
A walker of dreams on a space called land.
By K. Barratt
Lull – a poem by Ali Grimshaw
Leaves play tag in the breeze
as cars chase green lights.
I am the only stillness
in the city this hour.
Living without permission
no need to ask, “Am I allowed?”
The leaves don’t ask to dance
down the cracked sidewalk.
I grant myself this moment
this sunlight soak before
winter darkness.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
If Poets Ruled The World
If you brought poetry to your exhale
how would you breathe?
If you brought poetry to your cooking
how would it taste?
If you brought poetry to your singing
how would it sound?
If we brought poetry to the conversation
what would we hear?
Would we notice the moan of wind outside our arguments
that the water from the pipes is at a trickle, our absent neighbors
don’t stand in the front yard anymore, weeds thrive
overtaking the edible garden, while last year’s birdhouse
remains empty? A muffled fear
like cotton balls in our ears.
If I lived poetry
could I see the heart
underneath your skin?
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Sharing this great quote from Moorezart
Right by your side
you beside, never
behind, together we face
forward fearlessly.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Senryu
As the clouds roll by…
National Relaxation Day
Not for purchase
Your judgmental gaze cannot melt
the lines of my mistakes, they have become
collective beauty I hold as my reward for living
unimaginable shapes to fill with crayoned hues
I am my own coloring book
not available for purchase
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
The Gift of Chaos
With all that is currently happening in the U.S. and the world, I feel the need to reshare this poem, Visiting With Chaos.There is an opportunity in the messiness of life. Will we choose to be loving learners or give up to fear?
Thank you to Vita Brevis, The Modern Poetry Magazine for publishing my poem. Click on the link to read it. – Visiting With Chaos
Sending love and a reminder that you are not alone.
Ali
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 