Weather Forecast

 

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Light does not fall on us equally.

There are hours of gentle illumination, while some remain in shadow.

Random flashes which leave you for no reason at the front of the line.

Or the end, randomly burned, scorched,

with head shaking disbelief. Tranquil dusk light on leaves.

Other days blinded into paralysis, unable to see a way forward.

 

I remain in a thundercloud waiting room, counting shadows like minutes.

Weatherizing my soul before the next hurricane.

Steadfast, determined in my stance, for a return of the glow

In stillness it will find me.

Sun’s warm hand on my back again.

This too shall pass.

© Ali Grimshaw 2017

Glow

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hesitation

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Like the filthy inside out sock

squished at the bottom of the hamper

under stench of damp rags.

 

Life can feel like that place.

 

Maybe it is time to do some laundry.

There is no rule, no prize for

handling it alone,

an unnecessary isolation.

 

The borrowed red sweatshirt

arms wide on the top of the mound

is not an accidental reminder of love.

 

Call. Just call.

Call before you change your mind.

That someone has seen dirt before

and will listen.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

If you are struggling today check out this blog, The Mighty, You are not alone.

 

 

Succumb To The Season

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Will you?

Fall, drift, yield

hand in hand,

warm kiss of palms,

veins of life intertwined,

before we,

plunge through crispness

to the other side

of golden.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

Succumb

Firecracker Phrases

 

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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.

 

 

Come write with me.

 

Erin Leichty Martin Levin

Writing is all about connection. Letters arranged to reach out across miles or decades. Voices being heard. Acknowledgement of experiences. Fantasy. Dreams on paper that can fly. Feeling another’s mind like jumping into a clear mountain lake. This is why I love writing with others. It is about a shared authentic experience that anyone can participate in.

If you are in the Portland, Oregon area during the month of October come visit the Multnomah  Arts Center Gallery where I will have some poems displayed in public for the first time as a guest of artists Erin Leichty and Martin Levin.  I am also holding a FREE community event.

Connecting Through Shared Writing
You are invited to connect with others through shared writing.  We will use poetry to listen, write and reflect together. Participants do not need to have any writing background just a willingness to listen and embrace a fun learning experience. You will leave inspired by the art and words as we gather in the gallery space at the Multnomah Arts Center on Sunday, October 15 from 3:00 – 4:00 pm. FREE

ERIN LEICHTY & MARTIN LEVIN On Display October 6 – 24, 2017

Paintings & Metal Sculpture, Featuring Poetry by Ali Grimshaw

“Holding Space” & “Meditations on the Platonic Solids”

Reception: Friday, October 6 • 7 to 9 pm

 

 

Footprints

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As I traverse

what do my footprints say?

Those who walk beside

a step behind and to the left will

see them. Mud messages dried

to become solid.

When my legs no longer walk

my tacks will speak out

a decodable message.

I hope you decipher

“Don’t give up.

Keep looking for the footprints

I am with you.”

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

In dedication to Mother Teresa (1910 – 1997) “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” 

Layered

Harmony in the Trees

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The tree colors sing in unison

settle my rattled soul

unlike any music

ever heard.

This orchestra of leaves

soothes the tempo

that pounds from a

day of instruments

that refused to play

the same song.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

Leaf

 

Axis Tilt

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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