Oldest of Wars Between
All Lonely Breasts
Underneath, with a bolt of egotistic rage,
it comes, building shrines in my dark pockets.
And when my heart is weak,
it lures me into its dismal hovel
as if to comfort
with its corrupt tongue.
Pale as the snows, it is without fire,
sapping my juices impotent.
Jealous, it wraps
its leprous paws around
my core, hungering
Robe of awful night, it writhes,
clinging to my skin.
I am burnt by the terror of doubt and
that rents me out to the lust of despair.
I hear the moans of angels, but they are helpless
to intervene, tied to the law of reach-and-reach-back.
Panting now, I try to embrace this beast in play,
uproot its fangs, tame its sly strength. But there are
two atmospheres clashing within, raging to win
side by side – raging to smother my struggle
with one abiding victory.
Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “SilverSpine Poetry Forum” October 2015
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“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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