Thunder To Cross
I fell, without colour, separated
from purpose – a delight to the
violence of mediocrity.
This character I have seen form
is on exhibition, it has gained
sanity but lost its genius.
The burning bodies of grief
lingering from house to house.
Pollution put under the tongue like cyanide.
I wore that slipper. I left what I held sacred
for a more tangible condition.
Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “The Peregrine Muse” December 2016
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™.