why are we so afraid of
the tender, exposure of
inside, gently cradled by
toughness skinned over
unconscious callousness
from days of survival,
thick with not letting
anyone in, to touch
the real, born within us.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
THE TENDERNESS PROJECT IS AN EXPERIMENT IN RADICAL EMPATHY CURATED BY ROSS GAY AND SHAYLA LAWSON. IT RECOGNIZES THE TENDERNESSES THAT APPEAR IN THE MARGINS AND LIGHTS THESE TINY SPACES.
awe is beauty’s cousin
his arms around her
tipping her chin up
toward the light
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
I notice,
I remember,
yet I have no idea
what you gave for
my freedoms.
I see,
I listen for,
those without,
who don’t
have freedom yet.
I pray,
that we never stop,
reaching toward each other
with open hands.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Happy July 4th.
Let’s not let the past stop us from creating the future.
At the seasonal station
the train of life only pauses
departure depends on your duration
illusion of control blankets nature’s causes.
Days to nights shift and the engineer steers
hibernating bunks of linked sleepers softly
breathe away their past selves
rhythm of the planet moves through the years.
Travelers lulled to comforted right
cycle of no endings, wheels freely spin
balance tipped toward the night
untouchable by human error, solstice arrives again.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
What if I wrote what could not be asked
the inappropriate bold words, or a question
that made you cringe slightly with wonder.
Left it on your desk, scented paper
inside an envelope that you would need to choose
to open or not, wondering who it could be from
unmarked, with just your cursive name penned upon
the front. Leaving you to hesitate with the thrill
of good or bad news to come.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Think in reverse
months tip, like dominos
to revisit that summer day.
Longing for this cleansing pool,
an offering of chilled calmness
encircled by stone.
Here I joined the river
of slow movement
strumming my heartstrings
plucking the notes ever slower
pulse dissolving
until I was
just being
water.
© Ali Grimshaw (rewrite)
d’Verse (OLN)
When something ends
the road behind washed away
the tightrope cut
the plane in flight
before forward lights have appeared
illuminating the next.
When something ends
what is the point in cramming your feet
into the shoes of the past?
Unless you want to walk in pain.
When something ends
after the sobbing,
and grief has dried up.
That’s when you know,
that’s when you finally know
the word
precious
for the first time.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Another sunrise through our window
light of reexamination
realization of the rich journey
the roads I would have not taken
without your vastly different
sense of direction
neither of us see West the same
but agree, it is not the end of our daylight.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
d’Verse – Quadrille #80 challenge
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 