32 Degrees – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

img_5237

The quiet between us
like floating icebergs
frostbit tongues in stillness.

Is it that we have forgotten what to say
misplaced our formula to speak,
a habitual slow retreat to safety?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

I am uncertain how to start the
defrost cycle.

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

First shared on The Drabble

She – a poem by Ali Grimshaw

img_2174

She learned to take herself
out of her body, to separate
no longer be encased by flesh.

She learned to go, bundle her spirit
carry it out and away, above the invasion
the uninvited intolerable penetration.

She learned numbness, not to be
within her skin, to pack up her
soul and exit, just until it was over.

She learned how,
survival was her teacher.
It was the only way.

She didn’t know help
with mouth stitched closed
only endurance walked with her.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

If Poets Ruled The World

 

If you brought poetry to your exhale

how would you breathe?

If you brought poetry to your cooking

how would it taste?

If you brought poetry to your singing

how would it sound?

If we brought poetry to the conversation

what would we hear?

Would we notice the moan of wind outside our arguments

that the water from the pipes is at a trickle, our absent neighbors

don’t stand in the front yard anymore, weeds thrive

overtaking the edible garden, while last year’s birdhouse

remains empty? A muffled fear

like cotton balls in our ears.

 

If I lived poetry

could I see the heart

underneath your skin?

 

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

“Poetry, whether the writing itself is explicitly political or not, always seeks a better way to respond, to think, to live.” – E. Ce Miller, writer, journalist

Sharing this great quote from Moorezart

 

 

 

Let me

fullsizeoutput_518

 

I will sing you comfort when your voice forgets the notes.

I will sing you a clearing to feel the warmth on your back.

I will sing you courage for days when you need to hear the music again.

I will sit in silence listening to your song

when you have forgotten it exists.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

Those that came before

people-3120717_1920

We are held

by unseen hands

family that came before

to hack through the wild

make a trail.

 

We are held

by their stories, mistakes

and courage. Rightness,

who is to blame

the tinted glasses we wear.

 

We are held

within their intentions

by the invisible imagination

of their hearts.

 

© Ali Grimshaw 2018

Inspired by this quote from Moorezart “We all carry, inside us, people who came before us.” ― David Mitchell, The Cloud Atlas

Photo from Pixabay

Tug of War

 

reflection-2922045_1280

According to her internal judge

she was never up to par,

even when crossing the finish line first

accomplishment slid off her skin. Always

gripping, holding on for acceptance.

Yet perplexed separation pained her days.

She wanted belonging

and never wanted to fit in

knew it would change her.

A part broken off to float away irretrievable.

No one else stayed after class to console the bullied teacher.

It never occurred to her not to.

She saw those faces on the fringe,

secretly knowing she was an outlier as well.

She let go of the kinship rope

not to lose herself.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

Photo credit to Pixabay – Alberto Barco Figari

Observe

Safety Net

net-984115_1280

I will embrace you

in this house of circumstance

walls cracked and cratered

plaster fallen failures.

Shelter you with my being

through the unavoidable crumbling

a steel umbrella in the storm.

I gave grown capable of being

the shelter, like the arch of

protection you once were

for me. I am solid

even as the erosion continues

with you under my wings.

© Ali Grimshaw 2018

April 26: Poem in Your Pocket Day – celebrate by selecting a poem, carrying it with you and sharing it with others throughout the day and on social media using the hashtag #pocketpoem. Share a poem that got you through a hard time or one that makes you laugh. Touch someone’s heart.

Morning Newsbreak

IMG_6449

The 5:00 am thud,

my front porch newspaper.

When will this sound disappear

from my listening landscape?

Like the comfort

of sounds, predictable life

before the robots were made.

When hands held headlines

faithful objects, a lifeline

of interpretation on paper thinness

read in gentle openness

played at morning speed of drowsy slow

accompanied by the aroma of coffee.

The illusion of a day with

news within my control.

© Ali Grimshaw 2018

“It is difficult to get the news from poems yet men [and women] die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.”—William Carlos Williams

13 Ways to Support Poetry – guest blog post by Dick Allen  – A great article with specific ways to keep poetry alive in the world.

dVerse OpenLinkNight #218 If you are looking for a community of poets you can find one here.

National Poetry Month – Fall in love with a poet.