when I feel that nothing matters
I will name it despair
and when a wave comes
I find quiet like
wind on my face
with the passing of the wave through me
(realization like a form of sleep apnea)
my breath returns as a gasp of awareness
unfolding the letting go is part of the wave
the part that reminds me, I am the water too
fighting to keep myself afloat is unnecessary
all depths of love are still finding us
do not fear
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Here I stand on hope street keeping my hearthope alive.
Before I walk away,
returning to a new season of my life,
let’s rewind this journey
for one last view.
Our thrills, near misses,
and countless conversations melted together,
weaving me into the true color I have become.
Wherever I am
is your home
to come back to.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Photo taken in a small town in Colorado. Humans create amazing spaces.
To see, feel, hold, wake
determination cycles, knowing mistakes
enduring without audience
multi-stepped blossomed awareness
winging it
drenched ducks in a row
elation evaporation
mind marathons
love injects herself into the race
- all this comes after
promising
if your words are
tattooed as you
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Join a welcoming community of poets
for today's prompt - promise. HERE.
“Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.” – Pablo Neruda
Like rain on wildfire
I am quenched by your voice.
I hadn't realized my shrunkenness
my dehydrated heart in wait.
Your laugh rippled across the crowd.
I could feel your presence of lightness in its cadence.
It is all the more precious to hear
knowing that life isn't easy for you.
Your laughter is like a defiant call
of the joy riding alongside the grief.
I feel it in my dancing bones
as I twirl toward your part of the floor.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
This poem is dedicated to my friend, Valerie. Her laugh is steadfast and generous. It always makes my heart smile. Whose laugh lights up your day? I hope you will let them know.
Join a welcoming group of poets at dVerse Poets' Pub for this poetics challenge. You can visit HERE.
Life is short,
love big.
Ali
And the rhythm continues, yellow round, orange round, red
tiny parts of bright aliveness making up the whole.
Are the boundaries holding us together or separating us by hue?
Each is playing a part in the view.
One beside the other,
next two, in front of, beside. Are we leaning unequally
or holding each other up?
How far would we need to back up
before seeing the whole picture? Remember up close
never looks the same as from across the room.
Squint your eyes a little. Now look again.
Notice how the colors grow toward midnight as it meets in the center.
Could this be a reminder to see darkness as a place to rest
maybe even a place of beauty
instead of fighting our way to where we think we belong?
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
You are invited to dVerse Poets’ Pub to write something beautiful in response to this artwork by Alma Thomas, The Eclipse (1970). Join in the fun HERE. Thank you, Melissa, for getting me writing today. It felt like releasing a big sigh and the air returned to fill my lungs without effort.
Somewhere near the produce
between the oranges and tumbling peppers
a song, Ed Sheeran is singing
and the tears arrive, as I listen.
(I don't usually cry in public but the emotion is undeniable.)
I am still as a river rock, while the shoppers flow around,
struck by hearing the words I couldn't hear before.
I let their message in
feeling what you were trying to say.
What I was unable to receive before.
I don't care that I am crying next to the bananas.
It feels so good to be loved by you.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
a fantasy figment fell
from the clouds
bounced off my head
into my heart
singing, I followed the
feeling of companionship
neighbors heard my song
dropped their projects
flung their phones
joined jubilance
parading down the street
we were something together
one gleeful song
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Join a welcoming community of poets at dVerse Poets' Pub, HERE. Tonight's challenge - write a quadrille using the word figment.
Photo taken in Portland, Oregon. I am a fan of murals and always look for them when I travel.
She led me to
the library, fed stories to my ears
taught me how to keep the family blood circulating
to pull my shoulders back, stand proud
she showed me laughter around the table
camping in cold rain, beauty beyond lipstick
the effective use of stubborn determination
she made a million meals without consideration
flowered apron ready dinners with a smile
Did she even enjoy cooking?
I don't remember anyone asking her.
She washed clothes, replacing them in drawers
a revolving door of dirty to clean
just another behind the scenes devotion.
How much did we notice the way
she kept the boat afloat
watching for leaks while we slept.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
This poem is in honor of my mother, grandmothers, and all the mothers in my family tree who made me who I am today. Thank you.
Happy Mother's Day
Join a welcoming community of poets
at dVerse Poets' Pub, HERE
for Open Link Night. Share one poem
of your choosing and read what other's
share.
“Human awe is an endangered species. Do not let your astonishment go extinct. Go wild for the wildness of your being.” – Andrea Gibson
how many days can you claim
bold aliveness
kindergarten eagerness
ignited intentions
bright contagiousness of
shared lifting
sky-filled unerasable strokes
readable by all
baring yourself beautiful
with each word from your mouth
skinny-dipping freedom
because words of love
deserve all capitals
sing unification
undeniable
© Ali Grimshaw 2023
Photo taken in Portland, Oregon on my hike of "appreciating the flowering trees" this past weekend. They remind me to love big. I hope they inspire you to reach out to someone you have been missing.
Within my rooted being lies a box of green
when the world becomes too loud for living
I retreat to this sanctuary of survival
lined with dewy moss to quench and revive.
Within my rooted being lies a box of yellow
when heart is crushed by grief, weary from war
I find my way to this room of sunshine warm
with light to feel my pain, begin again.
Within my rooted being lies a box of clarity
when my feet have forgotten the feel of freedom
when my head spins in dismay
I hold my heart in both hands, ask for help
believing love is on the way.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Join a welcoming group of poets at
dVerse Poets' Pub for this freeverse
box challenge - HERE.
Photo taken on a Oregon forest path.
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 