Battleground on the Inside
He takes my feet from the fossil earth,
takes me to where a tribe of insects wait
to wed me with their hive.
I join the lunar cold light, harming
nothing, harmed by nothing, but yet my
history engulfs my silent head, speaks of
moments blind with guilt, moments when I
bore inspiration like I bore my breath and I cannot
contain my melting indifference, cannot help
myself to wake from such longing to return
The sun rolls like a snail through
the mist just beyond the Earth’s other side as
I drift in night and circle
the sky’s expanses, waiting
for my enemy in his own
Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Dog Is Wearing Pants Literary Page” 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.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.