In The Days


In The Days



              In the days of Weatherspoon

and Enos, the spring arrived

like the drumbeat of an enemy tribe.

In the temples little birds died,

sacrificed like a good tasting brew

for the sake of the whole.

Lovers wept upon their own finished graves

and children played only when they were told.

Grandparents turned their backs on their kin

and marigolds died before their colour set in.


              In the hours of everafter, when cats and dogs

were sold as beef, and all the leaders prided

themselves on the accomplishment of peace,

people took showers three times a day and

counted their money like virtues. Depth was

crushed by medicine. Brothers and sisters shared

no childhood secrets they wouldn’t disclose. Volumes

of books rested on the public shelf of mystery stories

and “How To Better Yourself”s.


              In the minutes before our doom,

righteousness glowed in florescent

orange and blue on the political dreams

of the go-with-the-flow many and the radical few.

Women danced in leather on the streets

as strobe lights flashed the desperation

in their eyes, for those who could, to see.

Men marched like in the years of war

side by side in white T-shirts and blue jeans

looking out for prey, for any non-conformer

to come their way.


              In the time of now

crosses are fashionable

and people are only frightened of what

the impossible may bring. There is a donation

in every can and tyrants walk with wide, toothy smiles

shaking everybody’s hand. Beggars collapse

in hoards on the streets, and even the best of them

shake the dust off their feet, hardened like Cain,

by whispers of self-preservation and futility.



Copyright © 1998 by Allison Grayhurst



.Published in “Creek Side Writing Forum” November 2015

Creek Side Writing November four 1 Creek Side Writing November four 2 Creek Side Writing November four 3


.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.


Review of The Longing To Be: 

“The contents of Allison Grayhurst’s book The Longing To Be are both personal and universal and are described in such thematic and golden terms that one can see that a lot of thought has gone into each line. The poems are written mostly in free verse throughout, with both rhythm and soul weaved into them. For some poems, the layout seems experimental, and there is definitely a playfulness in the way that the words and verses fall onto the page. Others do conform to a “norm”, whatever that is. All are dramatic and thoughtful. These are layered poems with new horizons presented to the reader in every re-read. The effect is to keep things fresh with poems that constantly surprise in spite, and because of, the number of times being read. I thoroughly recommend The Longing To Be as a poetry book to study carefully and cherish far into the future,” poet Brian Shirra.



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