Broken shadows across the cracked ground smoke ghosts reside in charred places once nestled home spaces, closed doorways of tomorrow silent squatters drift among dreams to imagine rain, please rain. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 dVerse Poets Pub Challenge NONET – a nine line poem that begins with 9 syllables, descending line by line to 1 syllable. * First line of this poem taken from W.S. Merwin,“To the Light of September”
Stretched openness of summer sky. Time’s width I can't hold in one viewing. I bend to gather this spray of light and still can't see all points arriving through darkness. Each beam it’s own part in the collective we have named starlight. I stand openly as sky falls toward me into my arms assurance that is bigger than this moment. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 With all of the smoke in the sky, the stars are no longer visible. I remember they are there and see them in my dreams. Please send prayers and thoughts of goodness for the many fighting the wildfires in Oregon. Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com
golden smoke blocks the sun as I stand witness while winds shift to blow barging into planned days and so... I am listening. What better offering could I make while extending my reach to you? My throat burns with an ache to howl. As the people flee, where is safety now? So many blue sky days led us to false views. We are all running from something. walking away from something else. I'm sending my love on the wind, the force that both heats and cools. Both helpful and harmful, depending, contradictions of the mingled smokey fear. Tangles of the unknowable ringed history, as mystery held by the forest guardians now ash returning to soil. As flames fly from tree to tree, igniting compassionate hope or hatred I see through the window goodbye waves from living limbs of the still green. and I feel your heat from miles away. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 Oregon's Current Total Fires 37 Total Acreage Burned 805,332.364
Strong winds spread numerous wildfires in Oregon and Washington By Bill Gabbert
I want to hold hands sausage fingers in mine small digits without worry just skin to skin plain without any condiments I want your fingers intertwined juicing out quick squeezes of assurance like a secret code shared with my first love I long to hold on firmly tender like a ripe peach, so as not to imprint my needs on you I want to come together with grape clustered acceptance gripping without gripe savoring a shared stem I want to feel held our palms sandwiching this day's delight © Ali Grimshaw 2020 It's open link night at dVerse Poet's Pub. Come share a poem and connect with others.
The messages kept landing paper birds like folded airplanes from the sky. Confetti of voices wanting to be heard swirling of anger, colors of hurt, colliding confusion spiraling to crash on the ground. We hold our hands out to catch them scattering in the street to pick up the fallen. Each message, a precious life with wings a paper bird in need of repair. We sit in a circle and begin to unfold cupping our hands, just one at a time listening to its life of song. It is like we have always known what was needed. We knew we would stay as long as it took to give the listening for each bird to be heard. It was clear. It was not a burden. As we gently passed them from one hand to another, one by one around the circle, the sky opened to us all. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 dVerse ~ Poets Pub, Open Link Night with Linda Share your voice and read the poems of others.
This poem is a reflection on the writing circles I have hosted. I will continue to offer a safe space of refuge for others to be seen and heard just as they are. Love is always the way forward.
“i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)”
– E.E. Cummings
Twisted deeply within the realization of this being the day of goodbye A warm sorrow reverberates through my limbs down to my heavy steps homeward. This is the part of loving wholeheartedly that I wish I could skip over. When the sunset arrives and takes you with it far from where I am. From the first time I laid eyes on you your inner charm worked magic on me a spirit who dared to explore, balancing fences, tree limbs, to rooftop scrambles while others shouted, "There is a kid up there." You never were the "play it safe" kind. I knew the someday would come of releasing you to fly in the wind. This motherhood thing sucks just when you've spent 18 years falling in love with your boy (even on days when you didn't feel like it) he turns into a man you adore with your whole heart proud, filled with keeping. Just then, it is time to share him with the world. It would be greedy of me not to share but in this moment I don't want to play by the rules, where sons grow up. Instead let me rewind; all aches, pains and joys to live again the rollercoaster of mothering you. Your journey of magnificent learnings, dares and caring that accumulate into you as the tower beside me. No matter where you walk upon the earth. I hope you hear my whispers in your ear, I carry your heart I carry it in my heart. © Ali Grimshaw 2020
Reflecting on life in photos and words.
She had forgotten the gleeful falling feeling of freedom what it was like to jump on purpose, instead of being pushed the bold thrill of shoulders back, above it all strong standing tall the moment when fear collides with aliveness a smirk of, "just watch me," on her face. She had forgotten why jumping had mattered to her. © Ali Grimshaw 2020
Photo taken years back in Maui. After I wrote this I had to go searching to find this photo again. A happy memory is always worth searching for.
Which way out? Down is upside down up is not what it used to be Which way to the familiar where the predictable seemed to be real? Which way to rise above the untaught history which left us blind? Which way forward to undo, redo, or never do again what once we did? What we weren't ready for or maybe never are, let's help each other rise let us begin again. © Ali Grimshaw 2020
Writing together provides a mirror for us to process life in a safe place where we have all agreed to listen with compassion. Thank you to all of you who have written with me in the last few months. I am so very grateful to share this journey with you. I have added this new date and time to open up the invitation to others in different time zones. Let’s connect across the boarders. Stay safe my friends.
tended affectionately organic prizes plumped primed by summer's passion heat and BB King's blues quenching warmth gathering of sunlit kisses red ripe to tango with your tongue and mine slip into my backyard delight in this tender flesh this ready to please moment of this temporary season. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 (rewrite from 2018)
A online group journaling experience with Ali Grimshaw.
Tuesday, August 11, 4:00 – 5:30 pm PDT
The world needs the unique light that only you can shine. Keep your light on through the renewal of shared writing. Writing together can surprise us with new insights and guide our own journey.
- Explore writing as a tool for self-reflection.
- Slow down with yourself in space of self-care.
- Be inspired by the words of others.
Testimonials from my past writing circle participants:
“Thank you for your loving energy, leading us to a place within ourselves that we either didn’t know was there or had been untapped for sometime. Your deep listening is a gift, and I feel held in it.” – Carrie
“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