If only…

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if I could hand out

flying with clouds, beyond pain,

relief your eyes seek

 

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

 

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“If you expect me to answer my own question, I confess that I do not know.”

They call me an adult. Yes, I have learned to make spaghetti sauce, to drive a car. I have mastered some dance steps and can write a concise email response (using spell check to avoid the embarrassments of the past.)

But what have I really learned in my days of clouds passing, night thundershake and the revisiting of another spring? Days of scarlet fever, owning mistakes and reimagining?

With another ring around my trunk, adding layers of curious, I know that I know less with passing time. Like paint peeling off an old house I am more than one color. I live as a revolving door to exit and enter, each time with a different view.

Growing up I thought adults had all the answers, lived in comfortable sureness. Shocked disappointment crashed down when the truth broke through with no answers in its hands.

Why didn’t mom tell me adulthood didn’t come with all the answers.

“She had only one explanation for this fact: things have to be transmitted this way because they were made up from the pure life, and this kind of life cannot be captured in pictures or words.”

1. Illusions by Richard Bach

2. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

Written for the dVerse challenge, Bridging the Gap: Select two quotes from two different books. You decide whether you want them recklessly random or slightly/significantly more intentional. Then, construct a poem using one quote as the opening line and the other as the closing line. The blood, sweat, and tears will come while filling in the space between. You may modify the quotes to fit your poem’s rhythm or rhyme scheme, but just be sure to provide the original quotes, authors, and works in a postscript.

 

Tug of War

 

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According to her internal judge

she was never up to par,

even when crossing the finish line first

accomplishment slid off her skin. Always

gripping, holding on for acceptance.

Yet perplexed separation pained her days.

She wanted belonging

and never wanted to fit in

knew it would change her.

A part broken off to float away irretrievable.

No one else stayed after class to console the bullied teacher.

It never occurred to her not to.

She saw those faces on the fringe,

secretly knowing she was an outlier as well.

She let go of the kinship rope

not to lose herself.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

Photo credit to Pixabay – Alberto Barco Figari

Observe

Always Available 24/7

 

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Never preoccupied by screens screaming

unknown friends, nor business buzzing heads.

 

Mine sit in wait, pocket ready, stacked bedside,

cursive faded on the bathroom mirror. Ever-ready

 

to ask courageous questions, reassuring palms

warmly press down on my shoulders. They lead

 

remind from behind, cocoon me from nightmare bombs

and disappearing green, when my inside raisins.

 

Trustworthy friends of ink, folded and unfolded

because the need is so great.

 

© Ali Grimshaw 2018

This poem was inspired by the following quote from John Adams. “You will never be alone with a poet in your pocket.” 

Ars Poetica – d’Verse

National Poetry Month – Fall in love with a poet.

Photo by Pixabay free images.