poem

Handwritten on March 7 -Poem By Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 34 Comments 
What if I wrote what could not be spoken of
words of depth, concise sentences of discomfort
and truth, looped them together with my hand
a signatured message unique, like my voice.
Left on your desk, enclosed by the folded paper,
to find tomorrow or in a haste of reorganizing,
leaving you to wonder when it arrived. 
Would you recognize the writing or disregard 
then discard it as scrap, all while maintaining
focus on achievements of a workplace that doesn't 
have time for cursive communication?

©Ali Grimshaw 2021

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Purgation – Poem By Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 33 Comments

“Poetry offers the world something that’s small enough to carry close to your heart, and big enough to carry all of the ordinary things that can be encompassed in any one day.” — Pádraig Ó Tuama

Purgation

shame sweeping
disinfecting disappointment
vacuuming deeply the corners
of deliberately lost memories

I open one eye, hesitant
to take a look 
then squint until
rooted in my intention

It's possible there is
no monster of madness
in the closed cupboard of the past
just dust bunnies multiplying

and the purgation continues.

©Ali Grimshaw 2021

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Appearances – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 50 Comments 
I was that edge, frame frayed
threads separated whillynilly 
curving off in various directions 
nibbed and frazzle fuzzed
leading to unraveled times

with scissors, I cut loose ends
to regain control or
at least create an appearance 
of smooth evenness
but it was not an honest look

just a pretending of edged calm

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

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Check the correct box – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 29 Comments 
How we name ourselves keeps us 
separate, collected or behind fences.

What if we lost all labels to the wind?
Started over with a single hello. 

Here is a new and rare being
a species my brain cannot categorize

outside of any box, never encountered 
right before my own human eyes.

How wonder would fill me
with the awe of you.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

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Photo of mural taken in Auray, France. 2019

Sifting – Poem By Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 18 Comments 
Palms upward as hands face sky 
open spaces between fingers relaxing
into what has been a time of gentle 
and harsh scrubbing of the heart. 
Every inch of skin Brillo pad raw. 
An exfoliation of what has been. 
My fists, no longer clenched 
in tight survival, trust in slow unfurling.
Pain tingling as blood returns to fingertips.
Learning feet reground my trunk 
to an upright position, toes rooted 
past sand into bedrock. Freeing now
agile hands to sift through the helpful lessons 
caught in my soft palms as promises
while unneeded thoughts fall through finger spaces
to join other decomposing conversations 
of days when I didn't know listening.
Composting the no longer serviceable
into nutrients for the new words to come.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

Rooted – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 54 Comments

“Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet / confinement of your aloneness / to learn / anything or anyone / that does not bring you alive / is too small for you.” – David Whyte

tug and pull, I must

still it doesn’t fit anymore

not after this year

hundreds of breaths have past

in between arrivals and goodbyes

and I am changed

now I have new thoughts

I pull on like the wool sweater

you used to wear on your

most difficult of days.

Thoughts that have rooted

myself to you

intertwined with the me

I have yet to meet.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

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Happy New Year!

Wishing you deep full breaths of peace.

Blindsighted – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 28 Comments 
As we stand together
the ocean’s roar a comfort
lullaby of constant.

You squeeze 
my hand. I echo
the motion in return.

Reliable rolling waves,
we count on
when the world is crashing.

© Ali Grimshaw 2017

Solstice Lanterns – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 12 Comments 
image

When the crack widens to an unknown view
fear can squeeze in between rough edges 

slide to expand like a balloon of darkness
a barricade of shadow to seal the entrance.

Yet seekers of light will never be fooled by tricks of perspective
their wisdom of the season's shifting songs sing them forward.

Eyes of love, illumination for all
allowing forgiveness to set another place at the table

where lanterns burn long into the night.

 © Ali Grimshaw 2022

Encountering a Listener – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 62 Comments

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night – Gibran

 when your words unchanged return, are heard
 when your song, echoed notes of hue, comes back to you
 when belonging becomes your word
 a melting occurs, gray absorbed by blue
 watercoloring you into the canvas of all
 becoming whole, no longer fearing the fall 

 Then all the colors of you are revealed
 poured forth onto the listening canvas
 of this moment. 

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

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