Behind, underneath yet also intertwined
with softly sounded movement of bees
yet not quite a song, of all that generates
thrives for growth beyond survival music.
These background singers of inspired hum
as I branch out toward new sky, consider
a transplant beyond my container
soil in colors my roots have never reached.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Photo taken Kauai, Hawaii 2018
she wished to glue
leaves of color back onto the limbs
unprepared for season’s shift
then her dormant suitcase looked up
with eyes of grace, a reminder
of past orbits around the sun.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
She learned to take herself
out of her body, to separate
no longer be encased by flesh.
She learned to go, bundle her spirit
carry it out and away, above the invasion
the uninvited intolerable penetration.
She learned numbness, not to be
within her skin, to pack up her
soul and exit, just until it was over.
She learned how,
survival was her teacher.
It was the only way.
She didn’t know help
with mouth stitched closed
only endurance walked with her.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Painted leaves sing in unison
Unlike music, their song
is soundless harmony.
This orchestra of color
soothes the tempo
an internal pounding
from a day of instruments
that refused to play
the same song.
Fall catches me
with muted volume
a serenade of equilibrium.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Ok, breathe
ease back in the chair.
Breathe. Ahh. Blue sky in my backyard.
Oh no. Not leaf blower man.
I thought he moved.
Breathe. Let it all go. You are free.
See? It stopped. Listen to the birds.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
What? Not again? This is noise pollution!
Slow. Feel your body in this space.
Who invented this *&%$# thing?
What ever happened to my silent friend, The Rake?
Breathe. Let it go.
This too shall pass.
Remember the teacher said find calm within chaos,
Breathe. I bet he didn’t have leaf blower man
nextdoor.
Inhale.
Exhale.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
For the Thursday d’Verse challenge. My first contrapuntal poem. Contrapuntal are poems that intertwine two (or more) separate poems into a single composition.
Trust yourself. Your heart knows the way forward.
Thinking in reverse
months tip, like dominos
to revisit that summer day.
Longing for this cleansing pool,
offering of chilled calmness
encircled by stone, here I joined
the river of slow movement,
pulling at my rapid pulse.
Plucking the notes ever slower.
Heartbeat dissolving
until I was
just being
water.
© 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 sidewalk.
I grant myself this moment
this sunlight soak before
winter darkness.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Jump, leap, crawl and claw
there is a world outside
the hamster wheel.
You can step off, drop chains of thought
fall into peace.
Your forgotten power, remains inside,
no superhero costume
necessary.
Only willingness, rejection of old pattern,
refusal of squeaky wheel,
one step, to the side.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Rounded Barcelona 2017
Could this be the final day
of an autumn that I thought would last?
A mellowing of red between us
once crackling emotions now dust bits
collected in a whirling dervish
carried away in the wind.
Now I am an empty street waiting
for the street light to click on.
Predictable and ever awed
by the chance
to begin again.
© Alicia Grimshaw Reposting from 2016
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 