Let me send my love
to float lightly on the wind.
A force that sails ships across the ocean.
Let my kisses evaporate into the clouds.
When they reach your shore,
love will rain down upon you.
© Ali Grimshaw 2016
Message
anxiety
Seeking a Brain Transplant
She covets the minds of others,
organized, tidy, check the box off
organized, tidy, check the box off
followers of clear roads
neatly folded maps
who open to straight paths
traveling without distraction
of multiple dead ends
confusion of curlicues
to land efficiently
destination, spot on time.
Dreary haunts of defeat
her relapse into darkness
Dreary haunts of defeat
her relapse into darkness
a mind off course, tunneling elsewhere
moving toward an endless horizon
without a line between earth and sky
to distinguish
what hole she fell into
this time.
moving toward an endless horizon
without a line between earth and sky
to distinguish
what hole she fell into
this time.
This is a revised version of the poem published on Versewrights Looking back and rewriting this as a process of reflection and celebration. Thank you Versewrights for sharing my poems with your readers. Today I encourage you to embrace your process over the temporary product. The my last page has not been written yet.
Please share a poem that you have rewritten in the comments section. Let me give space to acknowledge your process.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Round and Round
Jump, leap, crawl and claw
there is a world outside
the hamster wheel.
You can step off, drop chains of thought
fall into peace.
Your forgotten power, remains inside,
no superhero costume
necessary.
Only willingness, rejection of old pattern,
refusal of squeaky wheel,
one step, to the side.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Rounded Barcelona 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
Footprints
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.”
Closed Shutters
Light filtered through shutters, yet she chose darkness.
For months she pushed it away, terrified
of being consumed, eaten whole.
Adamant in her refusal to sit with it.
Now she contemplates the dark.
Always kept at arm’s length
.
This unfamiliar,
meeting it for the first time.
It is not as cold to touch as expected.
Unwilling to go it alone, she invites
Curiosity to accompany her
and this new nameless acquaintance
to hide under the blanket together.
She turns to face them,
leans in to hear their voices
more surprised than terrified.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Photo taken in Amsterdam 2014
Windstorm
knocked down
like a tree after a storm
my trunk horizontal
broken limbs at odd angles
body left with jagged holes exposed
pieces scattered near and far down the lane
some parts even seem to have disappeared
now I think I understand how humpty dumpty felt
there isn’t a way to put the pieces back together
it is time to start again
look for fertile soil
plant myself where sunlight will reach me.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Long before…
In the unfinished
before the credits scroll past
can you choose acceptance
without an end,
before the conclusion
without approval from the crowd?
Between the ribs, within
deeply, a voice
the one you used to hear
before you thought the others
were the ones that mattered.
Knew better and overruled your soul.
Before you decided
who you weren’t going to be.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
On the other side…
Don’t believe everything you think.
When you visit the land of your own thinking.
Shocked by what you see
tip toe between the lines of your history
so as not to waken them
these tales from the past
will inquire of your intentions.
Take a flashlight
when you visit your thoughts.
It can be eerily dark inside,
a tangle of paths to lose your way.
No one to question doubts
remind you of the courageous act
of responsibility taken just last week.
Step with care, lightly
as you lift, poke and dig.
Leave some music playing in the room
to find your way out.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 