Too bad you got burned

on the spell of worldly accomplishments

and comparison, that you fell

into the snowbank and drenched yourself through.

Friendly false eyes in the flame,

in the sweating ruthless ocean – you lost

the hand that held you to truth and the longing

for a deeper betterment.


But now you are home, proclaiming

the invisible as your building blocks – piled high

and mortared together strong against every storm.

You almost got pulled into the everlasting pit, fooled

by fool’s gold, but you reached the upper edge and

lifted yourself to a safe landing.


Eat from your bowl and be grateful.

Everything you asked for is already yours.

Walk away from the party,

shake hands, give uncommitted hugs,

then read by the dim light, knowing your true riches,

knowing all that you treasure is complete, thriving

in this compact tried-and-true family

and in the landscape of your evolving solitude.




Copyright © 2023 by Allison Grayhurst


“The poems included in Allison Grayhurst’s poetry collection Running, lightwave riding reveal an impressive artistic perfection and creative energy. The poems are full of lyrical force and show freshness of style. No doubt, this is a significant work. The poems have great power of observation and originality of imagination,” Dr. Karunesh Kumar Agarwal publisher Cyberwit.net



Published in “Fevers of the Mind” June 2023




Published in “Sahityapost” June 2023





Published in “Otherwise Engaged Literature and Arts Journal” July 2023

Click to access 11.2-Otherwise-Engaged-Part-II-1.pdf




Published in “Synchronized Chaos” May 2023




Published in “Winamop” May 2023




You can listen to the poem by clicking below:








The eruption ache

of an ultimatum,

laid bare its beams and

its unsunned skin,

a voice bellowing,

roaring a vow that

grows like a creature

absolute in its hellish

demanding form.


All things stand extravagant

and excessive especially

when unarmed, unexpecting.

Leave the painted dream

with the waterfowl to peck at

and drive under.

There is something here

in this early day, contracting, anguishing

but with cause.


Wretched vigor, swelling

with the effusion

of threatening extremes,

held hostage, here, in a place

where a choice must be made

where all outcomes perceived

are perverse, lethal.



Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst




First published in “Raven Cage Zine #70” June 2022






You can listen to the poem by clicking below: