after the sordid day rain recalls the language of music and I go, leaving frenzied voices behind to bed beneath magnetic star spray to see above the thousands while I hear the lake moon moan when I can live life as ripe peach sky? © Ali Grimshaw 2020 dVerse Quadrille - Poetical Magnetism I have never liked crossword puzzles but I got a kick out of this magnetic poetry site. What a fun way to play with word use. Check it out here. magnetic poetry
“Poetry might be defined as the clear expression of mixed feelings.” W.H. Auden, New Year Letter
In this time of change, I am keeping my eyes on love and offering a safe space to gather for reflection. There is much to process each day. Without an intentional pause I notice how easy it is for my brain to experience emotional overload. Poems provide an opportunity for slowing down, to pause. Writing together is an invitation to pause in the wonder of this day and remember we are alive. Every voice is welcome.
Renewal Through Poetry: Writing Circle
Join a small, online group to
- Explore the use of poetry to inspire us.
- Cultivate curiosity about our thinking and writing.
- Experience writing as a tool for positive self reflection and well-being.
You will have the opportunity to connect more deeply with yourself, through your own writing, as well as through the writing shared by others. By offering a safe environment, through reflective listening, this workshop will support participants in expressing their authentic voice.
No writing experience needed. Group maximum 6 participants.
We will meet virtually using Zoom.
Actions taken from love can never be regrets only open doors of possibility to step through. Doorways for light to shine in to shine out or meet in amplification. Welcoming visitors you once viewed as strangers now family members. An invitation to leave a room that doesn't serve you or is keeping you small. This door is locked on the inside a wish come true. You are free to leave anytime. © Alicia Grimshaw 2020 Photo take in on a trip to Amsterdam, 2019. Cee’s B&W Photo Challenge Word of the Day Challenge: Wish
We are unique and also the same. As I have reached out to write with others during this pandemic I continue to experience this. We are all coping. We all have emotions. We all need ways to empty out our overflowing thoughts. In my writing circles, I have noticed the fulfilling conversations, relief of writing it down and connections that bloom from shared writing spaces. I invite you to explore this for yourself. This isn’t about trying to create the perfect poem. You don’t need to be a poet or even call yourself a writer. This is about connecting as human beings. By writing and reflecting together, we can learn from this unusual time, and face it with loving curiosity.
Click on the links below for more information and registration.
Curious about future writing circles? Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Past participants have shared this about my writing circles.
“Thank you for your wonderful session yesterday. I came away feeling inspired and uplifted.You created such a welcoming space that I felt immediately at home.” – Karen
“I loved it all. Meeting new people and seeing the similarities between us. This also opened me up to a broader feeling of gratitude.” – Mary
“I have been writing with a group that Ali leads. I am not a creative writer and was wondering what I could bring to/get out of the group. I am surprised by where this takes my brain and my heart. Ali’s guidance and writing prompts are insightful. Writing with Ali has become one of gems of my otherwise isolated life.” – Nancy
“I loved your focus on being intentional, hearing the voices of other women and your positive energy. You are a light and an inspiration.” – Diane
We are stronger when we lean on and learn from one another.
“I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.” – Barbara Brown Taylor
When the lights went out, she welcomed the dark
warm on her skin like an old friend
as nourishment for her sadness
leaves rustled a serenade to slow her pulse
the refrigerator hummed along
a reminder of the ordinary evenings
breath slowed, the world kept turning and she let go.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2020
Choose a small cup
simple, without handle
each hand deserves a curve of warm
the offering of this today, inhabited
it cannot help but overflow
effortlessly overcome boundaries
designed by small needs
running down the sides in abundance.
Maybe you have forgotten
how little it takes
to satisfy thirst.
© Ali Grimshaw 2020
Overwhelm has taken
in your brain again?
You wrote the rental
can evict it.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
“So here are a few of the upcoming books of poetry I’m most excited about, books that are keeping me from losing hope, books that remind me that, even as America is at its most divided, its language is about synthesis, about coming together, about dissimilar things that form a gorgeous and powerful whole. These books are angry, they’re afraid, they’re grieving and hoping; so am I. I’m grateful for their company.”
The power of poetry. You can’t help but want to see this list.
Now I sit inside heated regret
what I wish I would have said
rapid words that flew off my tongue
like butterflies leaving my mouth
beautiful at first sight, fluttering
toward you. With closer inspection
upon landing, were really illegal
firecrackers of burnt red destruction
flames that left you singed speechless
while I coughed on my smoking impulsivity.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Rewrite of a poem from 2017
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
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