Now I sit in thought with
what I wish
I would have said
instead of that which came flying off my tongue
like butterflies leaving my mouth
beautiful at first sight
fluttering innocently toward you
with a closer look
upon landing
were really illegal firecrackers
of golden red that
left you speechless.
I’m sorry.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Forgive your mistakes. Forgiving Connects.
What is the point of this adrenaline
if not to catch a falling baby,
escape from a lion or revive a drowning man?
Where can all of this feeling go? I want a place for it.
A drawer, a box, a shelf, a treasure chest, the trunk of a car
maybe an large envelope to mail it far away.
Away from me. Where I am not the one.
Draw another name from the hat, surely she is stronger.
How am I to hold this prickling, burning weight,
vibrational surge, flaming fingertips?
Pressure builds until this little teapot
blows her steam.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
The first bowl of summer strawberries picked from my backyard.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Random thoughts collect in her hair.
Ideas shed by passers by
printed in fonts, large and small
nestled in her curls.
Within the crowd ideas conflict
like a crash of cymbals.
She swallows them all
continues to shift the molecules
search for a new formula
that makes sense.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
In the unfinished
before the credits scroll past
can you choose acceptance
without an end,
before the conclusion
without approval from the crowd?
Between the ribs, within
deeply, a voice
the one you used to hear
before you thought the others
were the ones that mattered.
Knew better and overruled your soul.
Before you decided
who you weren’t going to be.
In response to The Daily Post – Outlier
With faint light in her eyes
hair awry and wiry
trodden down starting from the top
in the yellow sweatshirt that’s
consuming her hands
she shrinks inside
before turning the corner
a slight curve of her mouth
less than half a smile
easily missed by those
who have already decided
who she is.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Her only precious possession was morning.
The first few seconds upon waking,
feet still in the land of the dreaming.
Those few sacred moments of stillness
before the world around surrounded her
reappearing in predictable sound and color
to force her into the structured daylight
a day when she was to lead
the one expected of her.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Photo taken on my trip to Italy, summer 2016.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Out of an infinite number of stories ending this year
how lucky am I to continue mine.
To understand, as I didn’t before
how to see the next blank page
author what is left.
To smear the words by numbing
or battle to awaken the next chapter,
an internal fight rekindled by rewrites.
Still awed by the power of dusk to soften the view
I choose to attend this party called life.
Many minutes are not guaranteed.
I savor this very one.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Each year I celebrate the gift of getting to live another year by writing a birthday poem. This is my poem for 2016. I don’t have the words to clearly express the layers of learning, global connection and inspiration I found by jumping into the world of blogging this year. Thank you to WordPress for making it possible and to the many, many kind bloggers who offered support. I am honored to have a poem chosen by the Drabble as one of the top ten editor’s picks for the year. Ten of our favorite Drabbles of 2016. I hope this inspires you to share your voice in 2017.
Discover Challenge – Retrospective
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 