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Marrakesh
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Up the proud hills,
through the red Moroccan
morning, girls sing
as flies fill their nostrils,
arms covered in clay –
terracotta flame.
It is winter and sheets of sunlight
overpower the paths. They go down
into the casbah with bare feet
& clothe:
dreams of indigo justice.
A little boy guides tourists through
stealing kisses & cash.
Tall as stretched flowers, the blue people
come with their ancient arms, swinging
like whale fins from side to side. Bees crown
the orange juice with buzz & sting, as the snake
charmer carries his wealth on his back,
(around, around), like a
heavy fear.
The rains come.
Pant legs lifted to knees,
eyes smiling in awe. Rains
as thick as the devil’s sobs. Rains
as wild as the children
who need no remedy
from the bending ocean
of froth & sky.
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Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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First published in “Reach” 1994
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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Somewhere Falling has a richness of imagery and an intensity of emotion rare in contemporary poetry. Drawn in sharp outlines of light and darkness, and rich shades of colour, with a deep sense of loss and longing and the possibility of salvation, this is an unusual book by a gifted young poet. Grayhurst’s voice is one to which we should continue to pay attention.” — Maggie Helwig, author of Apocalypse Jazz and Eating Glass.
“Responsibility and passion don’t often go together, especially in the work of a young poet. Allison Grayhurst combines them in audacious ways. Somewhere Falling is a grave, yet sensuous book.” – Mark Abley, author of Glasburyon and Blue Sand, Blue Moon.
“Biting into the clouds and bones of desire and devotion, love and grief, Allison Grayhurst basks the reader, with breathtaking eloquence, in an elixir of words. Like lace, the elegance is revealed by what isn’t said. This is stunning poetry.” – Angela Hryniuk, author of no visual scars.
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Reblogged this on The ObamaCrat™.
a pretty good impressionist picture of Marrakesh