© Ali Grimshaw 2017
blogging
Pulse – Poem by Ali Grimshaw
among fallen plaster of
disrepair, wrinkles of error
some think irredeemable
your locked layers of reasons
defenses built room by room
the unkissable past revealed
you wait for the wrecking ball
Yet I hear a heartbeat not broken
beyond salvage
your pulse sings strong.
© Ali Grimshaw (rewrite) 2019
Photo taken in Venice, Italy
Begin again
now, before you change your mind
and doubt blankets you with too comfortable
while familiar climbs onto your lap, warmly weighty
and resignation joins in to pull courage from the room
before you are left alone on the cold couch
deserted by dreams of sitting under
a green tree of sunlight.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
365 Pages of 2018 – a poem by Ali Grimshaw
I wrote across
and down the page
sometimes diagonal doodles
to break through lines
that I refused, not willing
to be penned in.
Editing bled and tore through
to pages underneath.
Grateful for a thick tablet
layers of mistakes on the way to golden
this party called life, waking up
to attend, embrace the tousled mess
tumbles, triumph, trembles of love
that live outside of words.
The minutes are not guaranteed
savor this very one.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Each year I celebrate getting to live another year by writing a birthday poem. I hope this inspires you to author your life. What story are you writing this year? These bloggers have inspired my next chapter; Debbie at Forgiving Connects , Colleen at The Chatter Blog, Val at Find Your Middle Ground, Miriam at Out an’ About, and Brad at Writing To Freedom
Here is the link to last year’s birthday poem 365 Pages.
May love touch your day.
Ali
Orbiting
she wished to glue
leaves of color back onto the limbs
unprepared for season’s shift
then her dormant suitcase looked up
with eyes of grace, a reminder
of past orbits around the sun.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Lull – a poem by Ali Grimshaw
Leaves play tag in the breeze
as cars chase green lights.
I am the only stillness
in the city this hour.
Living without permission
no need to ask, “Am I allowed?”
The leaves don’t ask to dance
down the cracked sidewalk.
I grant myself this moment
this sunlight soak before
winter darkness.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Unravel an opening
It is a continual process to unweave
that which is truth from story. I pull
a thread, remove one line, observe how
the fabric changes, notice the new spaces
breathing between essential threads
that remain, a skeleton of existence
until extracting the unneeded
leaves what is left, sparsely resilient
penetrable light of a future once blocked
by memories tightly woven.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
