A moment’s gift – poem by Ali Grimshaw

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a time to keep silence near
exhale’s companion

a sound of not needing
to hold on,

open palm invitation

to allow the next
while nestled in cocooned cotton

like snowflakes in your hair
layers of white quiet, an offering

you didn’t have to earn

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

 

Quadrille for d’Verse – Turn, Turn, Turn

 

Navigating – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

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Never had you loved anyone more
than the one in the bright red raincoat
so visible on the beach of haze.
Like a masterful painting
he drew your eyes in
a beacon of clarity
when the tide of life
got too high.

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

Pic and a Word Challenge- Colour

Pulse – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

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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

dVerse – Quadrille

Forgiving Fridays

Photo taken in Venice, Italy

The Architecture of Conversing

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Beside me, your mummers begin
repetition of words to form
a solid, something to hold on to.

As you hammer a picture in sound,
letters arrange in audible order
to hear who you are.

To speak building blocks, stack phrases
scaffold words of steel
structures to withstand tomorrow.

I am silent witness
to the rebuilding of yourself.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2019

 “The most visible creators are those artists whose medium is life itself. The ones who express the inexpressible ~ without brush, hammer, clay, or guitar. They neither paint nor sculpt. Their medium is simply being. Whatever their presence touches has increased life. They see, but don’t have to draw…  Because they are the artists of being alive…  – Donna J. Stone

 

Wade in the river

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Knee deep in, “I can’t believe I said that.”

Toes numbed by the cold reality

while echoed words play inside your head.

Let the current caress errors of grime

wash away the mistaken mud of this day

to return to the raw, tender tingle.

Step out onto the bank of clean sheets

let new beginnings drip from your feet.

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

d’Verse Poets Pub

Forgiving Connects – Forgiving Fridays

Phrases on Fire – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

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Now I sit inside heated regret
what I wish I would have said

rapid words that flew off my tongue
like butterflies leaving my mouth

beautiful at first sight, fluttering
toward you. With closer inspection

upon landing, were really illegal
firecrackers of burnt red destruction

flames that left you singed speechless
while I coughed on my smoking impulsivity.

© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Rewrite of a poem from 2017

Fire Up Creativity—dVerse Poetics

Ripe – a poem by Ali Grimshaw

 

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organic prizes tended affectionately

primed by summer’s passionate heat and BB King’s blues

quenching warmth, a gathering of sunlight kisses

red ripe to tango with your tongue and mine

slip into my backyard to delight in this tender flesh

this ready to please moment soon closed for the season.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

dVerse Poetry Pub

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Growth Spurt

In the dark kitchen while all lay asleep
I stood shorter than the countertop
determined to throw away my blanket of comfort
self worn to soft holding of me.

The mouth of the garbage can
that lived under the sink
hungry for layers of softness
swallowed them down easily.

My four year old self threw away weakness
like an explorer sailing to uncharted seas
I declared myself ready for the mystery of the grown up.

Without need for a fall back into security
how sure I was of my power to leave the shore
of my dearly loved comfort layer.

Where did the urgency come from
to stop leaning
depending on
go it alone without reliance?

Years later in my cold bed determined and proud
still I wonder why I needed to prove my toughness
hurry away from childhood.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

dVerse Open Link Night #226

unpuzzling the enemy

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hate screams black in fear, with intent
to turn listener to stone or distraction

what you think is the opposition
dressed in defenses worn comfortably

is only,       just another
scared,       eyes-wide        and searching

no different than the face in
your bathroom mirror each morning

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

Quadrille #61 – dVerse Poets Pub

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“If you expect me to answer my own question, I confess that I do not know.”

They call me an adult. Yes, I have learned to make spaghetti sauce, to drive a car. I have mastered some dance steps and can write a concise email response (using spell check to avoid the embarrassments of the past.)

But what have I really learned in my days of clouds passing, night thundershake and the revisiting of another spring? Days of scarlet fever, owning mistakes and reimagining?

With another ring around my trunk, adding layers of curious, I know that I know less with passing time. Like paint peeling off an old house I am more than one color. I live as a revolving door to exit and enter, each time with a different view.

Growing up I thought adults had all the answers, lived in comfortable sureness. Shocked disappointment crashed down when the truth broke through with no answers in its hands.

Why didn’t mom tell me adulthood didn’t come with all the answers.

“She had only one explanation for this fact: things have to be transmitted this way because they were made up from the pure life, and this kind of life cannot be captured in pictures or words.”

1. Illusions by Richard Bach

2. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

Written for the dVerse challenge, Bridging the Gap: Select two quotes from two different books. You decide whether you want them recklessly random or slightly/significantly more intentional. Then, construct a poem using one quote as the opening line and the other as the closing line. The blood, sweat, and tears will come while filling in the space between. You may modify the quotes to fit your poem’s rhythm or rhyme scheme, but just be sure to provide the original quotes, authors, and works in a postscript.