A benevolent view



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

Forgiving Fridays at Forgiving Connects


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

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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





My closed eyes wonder

have you been waiting for my call?

Are you one who waits?

One who waits to be




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


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




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.



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.



the power of the

impermanent paint

to include.





Lines drawn

to dare a crossing


to encircle all.


© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

Street art – Lisbon, Portugal