Blasted white

like a star – there but not there

at its true awakening.

I run forward.

I cover my lips with a vintage coin

and chant tomorrow out of sight.

There are times I cannot keep

such tension as I should –

as a petal in my palm, balancing my movement

with the pull of the wind

so as not to lose its texture to the ground.

There are times when the sunlight frames me,

frightens me, echoing like a victim’s misery

through these patchy walls.

I am drowsy, excluding hope but not contempt.

Will I live here, stagnant in this sickness?

What I need is a bed that does not hurt as I sleep,

that can endure my heavy days and feed me strength

from its quilt.

It is the meat of destiny I am famished for.

Reclining in my hand-made coffin,

I value the cold cold sky.



Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst




Published in “SilverSpine Poetry Forum” November 2015

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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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