I speak and climb the edges
but my voice falls
like used candy onto
I dream and chisel, and
sometimes so utterly sure
of what my days have taught me
and of the flowers they have nurtured,
I lie down and am content.
But the world withers at my doorstep
and my fire is just for show. Just another soul
in the great cavity of home and anonymity.
Like a love that cannot live unless
it is given, my words crack as they pile up
in filing cabinets in rooms where time runs on and out.
I feed between heartache and wait on the predictable
fashion of clever tricks, waiting
for an alibi.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Stone Face Literary Zine” November 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.