NaPoWriMo2021

Just now – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 40 Comments 
Now as I remove it, I lay it down. It leans back on the bed relaxing into a stretch my stiff body is unable to replicate. It has protected me from the virus all day and expects to have some time off. I breathe in, stretch, and begin to wonder how many words it has caught in the past few months? Words I thought to express but didn't. I hesitate often with thought, with care for myself and others. I don't speak as quickly as I used to. It is not for lack of valuing my voice. It is that the past months have shifted me. In the last year I have wondered more than ever how my words will be heard and where they might land. 

Looking down now. I realize how often I redirected sentences into my mask instead of sending them. I see so many captured. There are layers of phrases. More than yesterday. Some scribbled from speaking to myself, some barely readable as they were spoken in a whisper under my breath. They are massed together. Jumbled softly in the woven fabric, an unusual relic. Is it worth saving? Is it worth deciphering these undelivered words? What could I learn if I used a magnifying glass to dig backward? 


revisit the past
there is wisdom in Spring rain
see today's blossoms

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

Napowrimo 2021

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Why bother?

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 32 Comments 
please
in consideration of
what won't be created, written
or healed

where we will work, play
and give

who won't be fed, sheltered, 
or freed

who won't be loved

what won't happen
if we don't 

unless we are at least a bit
bothered today



© Ali Grimshaw 2021

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Napowrimo 2021

Poetry has arms – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 44 Comments 
Poetry has arms 
to reach beyond borders
stretch across isles
swim channels of shame
while handing our fresh hankies
for tears of lost love

Poetry has arms
to hold, comfort, and allow
for all to be felt 
the sharp, the cut wide open
with acceptance
Poetry pushes no one away

All are welcome
through this doorway

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

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Let me hold space for your voice.

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What the Grieving Seek – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 24 Comments 
you believe that saying the right thing
will dissolve the pain, that you should
know how to ascend the sunken

afloat in powerlessness without
the words to reach the aggrieved
restore their hearts to harmony

don’t be swallowed by your lacking
the right words never have been
what the grieving seek

sufficient is whole face listening
eyes intent to bridge being
ears strong enough to hear
without changing the subject

and you can do that
anyone can
make that choice

First published on VITA BREVIS PRESS 2018


For those are are grieving today. I send this to you with love.

Wonderment Training – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 21 Comments 
walking through

fields of bright questions

I pick whys

and hows, bloom

gold awes for consideration

wonderment training


© Ali Grimshaw 2021

A shadorma (a six-line, 26-syllable poem or stanza) for National Poetry/Global Poetry Writing Month - Day 7. 

Visit this site for prompts all month long, napowrimo 

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Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle
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Photo taken in Munich, Germany 2019.
~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 9 Comments 
these blooms like candy cotton
appetizing limbs of pink deliciousness 

always have been reliable 
unique for sugar coating the sadness of a regular day
living blossoms I reach for

true in their offering of layered light
for satisfying the crave of weightlessness
the yearning for lift

Perhaps with forgiveness. Maybe with increased observation

their magic will prevail. My scavenger hunt continues.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

Day 5 of National Poetry Click HERE for daily prompts 
Global Poetry Writing Month

Today's challenge - to find a poem, and then write a new poem that has the shape of the original, and in which every line starts with the first letter of the corresponding line in the original poem. I chose Wet Spring as my jumping off place. This was a stretch that led to a wonderful escape.

Wet Spring

The practical castle is cold.
All around it the world is a stream bed.

A few well-placed openings
under the windows
let rain weep back outward.

The rain is string
for wrapping a package no one knows
the inside of, they just keep trying to mail it.

Perhaps it is licorice. Perhaps it is kindness.

The package so large even wetness becomes an umbrella.

by Jane Hirshfield

While wandering – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 30 Comments 
"Without poetry, we lose our way." - Joy Harjo


the future of my day is coming from 
where yours has already taken a seat

while I wake, you are closing the book 
to rest your head in a country covered by stars

Here on this pondering path of forest
synchronized with the slow passing of light
this fern comnunity reaches toward many 

more than any one person can see
and one of them is me

a gathering of condolences for this 
time of separation, green fronds reach
to surround me in a forest embrace

our fiddlehead hearts, 
together while apart

your voice sits with me, uncurling
I am moss damp with missing you

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

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30 Ways to Celebrate the 25th Annual National Poetry Month
Day 3 of National Poetry & Global Poetry Writing Month

I used to hold his hand – poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ Leave a comment

BC217D7A-68BA-4715-92BD-0E1BF3830EE9

Your separation started with a small knot, 
then the winding began.

Strings of storybooks, twined through nights
and days of countless fresh starts, repeating circles.

The looping of stories wound through our shared days. Up and down 
on the life school rollercoaster, back when I used to hold your hand.

Our faces in the wind a side by side scream of surprise
moments you reached out, adding to yourself
adding another layer of becoming.

While some saw mangled routes and loose ends 
I envied your brave expanding, overlapping leaps 
of curiosity to solidify your center.

Now you roll down new streets
with layers of perseverance over boyish charm
a masterpiece touching lives I will never meet.

I hope you never stop winding over that small knot,
tied while I watched.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

This poem is dedicated to my two amazing sons. I am grateful to be your mother.