Circling Back – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

"I know things. I've seen things.
I don't know what you're going through, though. 
I've held troubles, but they weren't shaped like yours. 
I've lost, but none of my missing pieces would have filled your gaps.
I know some things, not all things."

from a poem called, the knowing by Ra Avis

Circling back

coming round 
sliding through 
this Autumn arc

I greet myself
a younger version 
of complex cells

she is just a beginning 
a growing lightness
wrapped in doubt

© Ali Grimshaw 2022

Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Alone
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Photo of God's Thumb Hike, Oregon Coast
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No Explanation Needed

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“A practice of gratitude is not about dismissing sadness, anger, fear, or confusion. Rather, it offers us the opportunity to see that we often experience multiple feelings at once; to welcome joy into the same places where we hold grief; to turn our attention to what is quietly growing and breathing day by day, which, to our possible surprise, includes ourselves.” – Kristin Lin, Editor, The On Being Project

No Explanation Needed

You don’t have to explain
how you know where to go or when

stillness brings discomfort.

You don’t have to explain
why sorrow comes and goes

tears visiting your eyes again.

You don’t have to explain
when it happened for the first time

why you feel a mountain sits upon you.

You don’t even have to explain
why it matters so much.

I never need more than just you

Just sit down
next to me, the weight
of your shoulder touching mine

© Alicia Grimshaw 2020

Photo take in Lisbon, a trip with my sweetheart.

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

Not for purchase

image

Your judgmental gaze cannot melt
the lines of my mistakes, they have become
collective beauty I hold as my reward for living
unimaginable shapes to fill with crayoned hues
I am my own coloring book
not available for purchase

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

A benevolent view

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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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Tug of War

 

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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

Always Available 24/7

 

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Never preoccupied by screens screaming

unknown friends, nor business buzzing heads.

 

Mine sit in wait, pocket ready, stacked bedside,

cursive faded on the bathroom mirror. Ever-ready

 

to ask courageous questions, reassuring palms

warmly press down on my shoulders. They lead

 

remind from behind, cocoon me from nightmare bombs

and disappearing green, when my inside raisins.

 

Trustworthy friends of ink, folded and unfolded

because the need is so great.

 

© Ali Grimshaw 2018

This poem was inspired by the following quote from John Adams. “You will never be alone with a poet in your pocket.” 

Ars Poetica – d’Verse

National Poetry Month – Fall in love with a poet.

Photo by Pixabay free images.

Dream of Love

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Awake in the darkness

with a different kind of knowing.

One of souls connected in an absence of time.

Understanding not limited by words.

A sigh that offers comfort,

only possible from the deep inhale proceeding it.

Melding without becoming one.

A miracle of wholeness from separate beings.

 

© Ali Grimshaw

Valentine’s Day 2016