it may seem obvious but once you begin tangles will grow a lie's life all it's own vines wound round tightened with retelling knotted numbers of mistruths curled to choke your heart from the inside out disrupting the ecosystem of yourself edging toward extinction ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 What's in a word? Quadrille for dVerse Poets Pub - Join a friendly community of poets HERE
releasing herself to the sky to feel the lift let her weight trust in the invisible courage of currents surf soaring free up, over and through this unexpected windscape surrendering her need to know to resolve to figure it out arms wide, in full float with the faith of a bird that doesn't remember a day without flight or a time of being grounded ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 dVerse Open Link Night - Join in the fun HERE. Photo taken in Bozeman, Montana, USA.
I am in the trough between crests of fear a briefness then surprise I let another wave pass through me after the cold slap initial sting, I realize I am still here It is unexpected knowing my history of being pulled under Now I tread my legs strongly sure lift my face skyward with dare ©Ali Grimshaw 2021
Let’s change the way we talk about depression and suicide. Here is a link to the full article Why mental health advocates use the words ‘died by suicide’, from which these valuable points were gathered.
Please use “died by suicide,” instead of “committed suicide,” as it removes culpability from the person who has lost their life and allows a discussion about the disease or disorder from which they were suffering. Let’s move away from blame toward compassionate language.
Not everyone who suffers from depression will have suicidal thoughts. And not everyone who has suicidal thoughts will act on them.
“Speak with your loved one about how they are feeling and encourage help-seeking by way of the many resources available, including the American Association for Suicide Prevention and American Association of Suicidology.
Be direct in your conversations. Dr. Klich finds that because suicide is so stigmatized (and also, just a really tough thing to talk about), people tend to skirt around the issue, or even unintentionally steer victims of suicidal thoughts toward a reassuring answer.
Confidential support is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week by way of the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-TALK)
Becoming Can I still declare I am becoming? There are no vast tomorrows in my future Imagining The Creator Does He still admire his handiwork? No longer does my body bear fruit my womb barely remembers giving life stretch marks have become old road markers now rendered dusty, leading nowhere my thoughts at times confuse me I leave out words wondering where do they disappear Between my mind and fingers in motion hair on my head, now strands resembling common condiments pay homage to seasoned memories what few remain allowed to go their own way they have known submission followed each latest hair trend yet, I continue occupying this body it no longer needs to become acceptance of time confirms I am still here alive nothing thrown at me forced me to recoil never once did I resolve to ever just look back. By Aissatou Sunjata 5/7/21 I am grateful for Aissatou’s permission to share her poem from the writing circle. I continue to meet amazing women across different time zones. Writing together provides a mirror for us to process life in a place where we have all agreed to listen with compassion. Come join us for a writing circle. Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle Friday, May 21, 8:30 am PDT. Register here
Let me hold space for your voice to appear on the page.
Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle
Friday, May 21, 8:30 – 10:00 am PDT. Register here
Tickets are by donation.
a gathering of cells multiplying magnificent a seed inside breathing being and no one even knew that you had begun arriving, small magic happening inside the womb she went about her day hanging laundry in her quiet way while the message of you grew © Ali Grimshaw 2021 An early Mother's Day poem. Quadrille Monday on dVerse
up to me fitting in is not required. it’s not even necessary. how could any of us fit a mold that is not ours? who made the mold anyway? why did I never question this generational imperative to be someone or something I was not ever intended to be – or become? I question it now. I release it now – today. I free myself to be… me. all that I am, and all I can be is up to me. By Carrie Cannady April 2021 You can find more of Carrie's poems and reflective wisdom here at Leadourlives.net
I am grateful for Carrie’s permission to share her poem from the writing circle. I continue to meet amazing women across different time zones. Writing together provides a mirror for us to process life in a place where we have all agreed to listen with compassion. Come join us for a writing circle. Tickets are by donation.
Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle Friday, May 7, 10:00 am PDT. Register here
Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle Friday, May 21, 8:30 am PDT. Register here
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 Join us on dVerse for Haibun Monday
I am honored to have several poems included in the first anthology produced by The Short of It. These pages contain the remarkable work of forty-one unique poets and writers in a variety of forms and styles. They are astute observations about living, emotions, and our world.
You may purchase the paperback or the eBook from Amazon. Click the underlined link below for the version you would prefer.
Thank you to Susi Blocks of, I Write Her, for including my poems. Click HERE for future submission information.
Thank you readers for supporting poetry.
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 Come share your Quadrille on dVerse - HERE Napowrimo 2021
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 