line straight as the horizon, faintly blue as sky meets sea
each edge, finger-width apart, to contain the message
my words lay cushioned by these guiding layers
some smeared by effort of my own hand
it was not by accident that I wrote to you
between the lines and not on them.
our relationship never occupied spaces
defined by rules of in or out.
© Ali Grimshaw (revised version of 2016 poem)
Rise/Set – Morning in Maui with my sweetheart observing the sea.
Inside the conversation of contribution
my favorite place to dwell
walls like soft bubble gum that can expand
with the breath of new ideas
to watch you poke, prod, punch
a fist through the wall
on your face the surprised realization
of the awe-filled fluidity, stretched elastic
boundaries you once believed to be walls of stone.
How a soft blow, like cooling off your tea too hot
can open up a whole new room. High rounded ceilings
with space to grow into.
My favorite place to be is inside a coaching conversation listening for another’s dreams. This was a tough idea to capture in a photo. Photo Challenge: Favorite Place
Years ago I chose the RULE
24 Hours minimum, before
doing, speaking, before action
24 Hours to steep in the experience
all emotional flavors infused, allowed to cool
to sip consideration of your viewpoint
before I express my own.
My reflection on the gift of time to change our perspective. I also have a poem related to this theme up on Via Brevis today. via EDITOR’S CHOICE: Weather Forecast
rusted rails, a cage to keep others out
no second chances, a cost too great
alone in the elements, hardened by hurt
not the last turn
just a mistaken dead end sign
wonder yourself free, between the bars
look up, before you lies a light of awe
to melt your heart free.
even encased, your
vibrancy cannot be held
captive, you gleam on.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Do your eyes remain dry
cried out from
tears for the one
and one
and one
another one
and years of the countless
ones?
Those ones that were the most precious one
to someone.
My heart beats in you this day as tears run down my face.
Grief’s hand must change
what hope will never be able to.
Before all eyes have run dry.
– Ali Grimshaw 2018
Words are inadequate after another US school shooting. Still I try in the honor of those who fight for change and the grief that countless others must bare.
late
broken
incomplete
misunderstood
unable to prove
“If you would just try.”
disappointment in their eyes
defeated layers of books and papers
accustomed to going unnoticed
“Why can’t you be …?”
“Why didn’t you?”
just below the line
left far behind
deep sighs
“Again?”
shame.
© Ali Grimshaw
This poem is shaped like a bell curve to represent the people who have endured feelings of shame for not performing in a way that someone deemed as success.
Locked up, but not away
cherished in a closed loop.
Desire for the everlasting
secured with full disclosure
of our imperfections. Rusty
raw, real acceptance.
The very charged electrical
zing between our eyes that
speak across the loud crowd
like a room gone silent just for us.
Our eyes say, we are forever.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Photo take in Vernazza, Italy – Beloved
You may have forgotten
I have not.
The strength of your heart
to carry you across the hard times.
It has never left you to swim ashore alone.
It never will.
Believe.
among the fallen plaster
disrepair, wrinkles of error
some may think irredeemable
not broken beyond salvage
surrendered in thick layers
your heart lies beating.
I hear it.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 