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Days that dismantle
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Days that dismantle
the thrones
of ‘may I?’ ‘give me’
and ‘I deserve’
Days that hold the devil at bay
and pinch the flowers off every lapel,
of angels under the bed sheets
and smiles in the afternoons,
of dreams that form, fade, then form
again. Days I will try to treasure like a
jar full of fireflies,
when I will not give in, not
give space to the dark pit within.
Days that mean more than money, and more
than the power that it yields.
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Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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First published in “The Continuist”, 2014
“We’ve recently received the work of Toronto poet Allison Grayhurst, a collection of vivid imagery and gripping enjambment that puts the reader in a spiralling world of despair. By using language to express the human conflicts of inner turmoil and the way in which our past burdens interact with the subconscious, the self and the world around us, Grayhurst sculpts poems that are revealing and confessional, as well as technically adept in their formatting and diction. Check out her impressive resume and poems below:,” David Eatock, The Continuist.
http://thecontinuist.wordpress.com/2014/06/03/poetry-by-allison-grayhurst/
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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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Reblogged this on The ObamaCrat™.
First of all, I must comment on the powerful sculptures on the side of this writing by Grayhurst. I love the lighting and the camera angles that bring out so much in these expressions of Allison’s human appreciation sculptures.
I feel a delight of creativity, hope and optimism in my chest upon reading this, and a warm smile comes to my face:
“angels under the bed sheets
and smiles in the afternoons,
of dreams that form, fade, then form
again”
I remember when this took gargantuan effort on my part, and I remember once imaging in my head stoning a negative voice within – which is all that would hold it at bay, and did indeed extinquish it:
“Days I will try to treasure like a
jar full of fireflies,
when I will not give in, not
give space to the dark pit within.”
This says it all in a world where god is money and the mall is the temple:
“Days that mean more than money, and more
than the power that it yields.”