In My Corner

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In My Corner

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Kneel to the weather. There is a fountain up ahead,

glowing,

but no one is on my deck – no bones are dry

in my pocket. Criss-cross, betrayal in my juice cup.

Magic is for fools. Living here, my voice cut,

my pet octopus drowned. Living here

in elementary wealth – nothing but

old-world, nothing but chaos.

Will the angels sing to me? I have been waiting

on their love.

So heavy is the window I look through. Brick by brick

I count my way up. My memories belong

to another world.

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Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst

3010

Currents - pastlife poems cover 4

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “The Bijou Poetry Review”

Bijou Poetry Review

http://bijoupoetryreview.blogspot.ca/2014/05/in-my-corner.html

http://bijoupoetryreview.blogspot.ca/

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.

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2 responses to “In My Corner

  1. I don’t know how she does it – but through disparate images she nails the feeling, the testimony, the inner music of the hero’s journey-challenge upward:

    “Living here
    in elementary wealth – nothing but
    old-world, nothing but chaos.
    Will the angels sing to me? I have been waiting
    on their love.”

    Our galactic history-herstory inimated so often – no wonder the intensity of the soul’s anquish, shock, hope, longing and triumph.

    “So heavy is the window I look through. Brick by brick
    I count my way up. My memories belong
    to another world.”

    Like

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