what you had always assumed
to be solid, now soggy sadness
water warped windows with
a view misguided, bended
memories altered the truth
will you forgive yourself
for all that was unseen before?
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
acceptance
Invisible Weight
Your bones scream to rest
an anvil on your chest
no dawn comes lightly.
Invite the monster to sit with you
it gains ugliness with denial
put your arm around that which
you don’t want to hold.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
“When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate. Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when you see how your illness affected your family, your work, everything left untouched while you struggled to survive. We come back to life thinner, paler, weaker … but as survivors. Survivors who don’t get pats on the back from coworkers who congratulate them on making it.” – Jenny Lawson’s book Furiously Happy
Courage rides the train
They stepped onto the train that day
unaware of the choice the ride included.
When the voice of hate screamed
the two stood as stone, unwilling to look away.
Unified strangers woven into a safety net
flung over the young ones
a protective cover given without request
those two hearts knew what freedom
to live without fear was worth.
The cost of standing up, as the train moved into tomorrow
was life itself.
In this morning’s memory mirror
I wonder if I would be brave enough
to ride as they did.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Dedicated to the men who died a year ago in Portland, Oregon as they stood to defend two young women. My heart breaks for the loved ones of Ricky Best, father of four and US Army veteran, and Taliesan Namkai-Meche a recent college graduate. In honor of these two and the countless others who have stood up against hate please join me in acts of kindness wherever you live. Love is the only answer.
For more information read this Washington Post article, ‘Final act of bravery’: Men who were fatally stabbed trying to stop anti-Muslim rants identified
Anticipate
My closed eyes wonder
have you been waiting for my call?
Are you one who waits?
One who waits to be
chosen
invited
picked?
Are you one who anticipates hopefully
rocking chair movement, back and forth
not going anywhere
waiting to open your door
find me standing before you?
Are you willing to be the one that shows up
arms wide, inviting in
the unprotected in downpour, ghostly gale,
frosty fear anticipating rejection?
Are you willing to hear the
no?
Are you open to the yes?
Which is more frightening?
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Mirror of Love
By knowing you,
I find myself.
Now and 90 years wrinkled.
My doubts don’t exist in your eyes.
You see the chipped edges
scars of failed attempts
places worn raw from not retreating.
The rough, abeyant curves of my puzzle.
You see my essence of spirit
gently hold it all up,
a mirror before me,
now I can see,
for myself,
who I am becoming.
Revised version of the original poem shared in 2016
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Distraction
Blurred branches of feeling
the intersection of “Not good enough,”
and “You fell for that again?”
awkward limbs that cross
and cross again in confusion. While inches
of growth reach, stretch toward light.
The turbulent angles discretely covered
by feathered orange deliciousness.
A fancy distraction,
just like my sunglasses and hat
a layer of colors,
the perfect cover up to keep
my crack of failure private.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Weather Forecast
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
Succumb To The Season
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
Between Places
The need that will not stop
the need to create for ourselves
speak with our hands
scribble with our minds.
Make, shape, build
add colors from inside.
Be
bolder than
we trust ourselves to be.
We share wisps of tender fear
kept hidden from view
like a shield of insecurity
tucked behind the ear.
Wary of those that come
with a look unfamiliar.
Remember
the power of the
impermanent paint
to include.
Lines drawn
to dare a crossing
or
to encircle all.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Street art – Lisbon, Portugal
Evolvement
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 