Trouble is tearing

across rooftops,

and the one thing left to count on

is tainted by self-righteous conviction.

The blue in the sky is burnt.

The answer that arrives is conspicuous

and truth sits on the post unable

to touch ground on either side.

Abiding in power, abiding in

religious hate – all the gates of evil

are unlatched and the songbird lies

flat, stiff-legged on its side like

a mutated lullaby. What is called love is squishy,

retractable and never a priority.

Trouble is full and always filling

the cracks in every open seam.

What is called good gets its name

from the TV screen and the golden-calf-god

of hip.



Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst



First published in “The Peregrine Muse” December 2016

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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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