Replenished

Posted on May 27, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Replenished

Whenever roused with grief

or shaken by the cynic’s cry,

I feed on your words and warmth

then wonder why I stood so long

held by the darkened grip.

For in your subtle bend

and caressing voice,

the rain is petty, as are all the

drunk and desolate things that

send my spirit heaving.

Whenever lost

in the crushing swirl

where sick and mindless crowds

roam, I draw up your face

from my memory’s well and

am eased, believing once again

through fear and disappointment.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Replenished

Near Daybreak

Posted on May 26, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Near Daybreak

A flood of gentle morning,

grey from last night’s storm.

The form of all I long for

leaps into a cloud.

Branches fall, crows call

out to me, an old man

walks with a doorframe in his arms,

cursing the sunless sky.

I sit in my morning chair, the faint

hum of distant cars soothes my belly

of its lonely ache. Balconies are

deserted, and even squirrels continue in sleep.

Who loves when no one is around, in this

embryonic stillness, this cloak of ash and humidity?

God is in the churchbell waiting its first ring,

in the dreams of the dying, and in the chestnut tree unbloomed.

God is in the tails of chasing cats,

the underwear on the line, and in

the pressure of time, as this morning lulls

its carefree, sabbath song.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Near Daybreak

The Last One

Posted on May 25, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

The Last One

I know my name

like I know the way

I was brought towards

to be saved and made

imperfectly whole.

I know there never will be answers,

there is only faith.

I know that type of light is heavier

than grief, heavier than a pound of eternity

thrust upon the shoulders,

heavier still because it is light

because it is pure and utter mystery

that will never be explained -

unfastening the soul, coating it

with thick love.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

The Last One

Other Side

Posted on May 24, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Other Side

Killed in the cloud

that ripples softly.

Believing we would be triumphant

made it so, and being dead we

learned a new way to rise and praise.

The music lies down in the seas,

so I hear the dolphins hum

and see octopi sway.

Madness is part of our heritage

but also our navigating star.

Whisper of the wonder we walk through each day.

Away from the dull chaos of the common bar

this is a new plateau, a hawk

in our backyard.

Up and dancing, the ground and air

join together to say -

we were never alone.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Other Side

Three Blessings In The Shade

Posted on May 23, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Three Blessings in the Shade

Two lone crows on a crust of snow

pecking to find sustenance. They,

the keepers of precious

wings and intelligent things

that seemed to sense my sorrow

as I passed, gave something back

which time took – a seed to see

equal wonder in the vast array of branches above

and in the muddied ice on ground.

A good person arrived and

with a brief turn of his lips, warmed my mind,

put colour where greyness had webbed my love

in a fatalist’s prison.

I felt the three dance. I felt the simple,

the heroic and the awake. And driven

to merge with the blending foliage

I was pulled toward the aching arms of high trees.

And there, in flight, I was blessed.

I experienced a soft

and a useful death.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Three Blessings In The Shade

In Doubt

Posted on May 22, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

In Doubt

Under the guise

of do or die

the heart’s mystery is born.

And then accepted

as an afterthought

when pain and struggle are foregone.

Because faith came like it did

from the tape recorder and other

underrated things, I could never speak

in whole of the dreams that drove me to love

nor appease the breath of death on

my clothes.

I could never will the tomato to ripen

or quench my thirst with social talk.

The nail is in the wood and still I wonder

why I am, on my own

on the world’s platform

- a gift

to no one.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

In Doubt

Rescued

Posted on May 21, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Rescued

Your voice is always frantic, shooting like bullets

randomly into the air. Your eyes are electric,

tottering on insanity’s indefinable edge. At the corner,

I see you. Myself, wanting to avoid the face I once believed in,

wanting to slow and vanish before you lift your head and see me -

bright and unaware of the hesitation I harbour – pounds in my pockets,

I have nothing to give you but trite formalities and the illusion of ease.

I have finished with you long ago. I have been raised up

from my desperation. I carry my lamp, fuelled by a trust in something better.

Your son, like you, has a beautiful smile. But in no way can he hide

his drowning – lingering for years on fear’s full shore, serving his dark mistrust

and the cockroach he keeps under his bed.

Bless you both. Bless you for the green grass you tried to grow.

You reached, but never far enough to make a difference.

I have no hatred. I have no longing. I have only

forgiveness.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Rescued

Lost Shadow

Posted on May 20, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Lost Shadow

When the song started

and the dream was torn from its socket then

placed on the sidewalk,

the light from the window broke

and in came the lost shadow.

I saw that shadow but stared it down

thinking it would only last a short season –

The shadow stayed, made its way behind

bookshelves and old picture frames.

Since then I can’t say what is a reflection and what is truly bright.

The favourite plan has burned in the meadow,

the secondary one has too.

If we are right, we cannot touch it.

If we are wrong, the sum of all our efforts

and discoveries is naught.

I enter the shadow then I too am left without definition.

I found at times there is nowhere else to go but further in,

further obliterating my clarity. That is a grey day for the dream.

Other days I hold my own

and count my gifts. That is the day of perfect weather

when the shadow stays under the bathtub

and tomorrow is fine.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Lost Shadow

Falling

Posted on May 19, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Falling

But one belief, one knowing

that absorbs every desire into

its invisible womb. And simple

like a good taste on the tongue.

And perfect as heaven in the eyes.

But one brave surrender, to open

every book and turn on all the lights.

One mind graced with trusting,

sure of the warmth surrounding and of

tenderness in every destroyed hope.

More real than the corners of a table

or the crisp red of a rose.

More real than the shingles on rooftops

or the touch of a spider’s web.

But the one thing unalterable, stronger

than death, than change, than the broken heart.

But one thing to give up all else,

where disappointments, fantasies and greed

melt like candyfloss in the mouth,

and Time is the gift given to learn

the infinite dimensions of love.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Falling

Through That Day

Posted on May 18, 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

Through That Day

Through that day of yesterday

one full sun ago, together, their

spirits fed, walking as lovers past

familiar streets.

Warm smell of intimacy flowing between two

like nectar to the thirsting throat. Warm feel

of smiles like there was the first time they ever met

and met like a finding of home.

Warm grace in their voices, warm fear

in their laughter, warm

like a justborn child.

There when walking their depths

merged in an uncompromising blessing –

the chaos of confusion

removed

from their astonished eyes.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

Through That Day

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Allison Grayhurst

poetry

Replenished

Near Daybreak

The Last One

Other Side

Three Blessings In The Shade

In Doubt

Rescued

Lost Shadow

Falling

Through That Day

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