If it is what you want . . .

.

If it is what you want . . .

 .

 .

Bleed out

in the dirt and dung of relationship,

leap like a lemming off the cliff

soothe your cracked hands in olive oil,

then take another’s hands and allow them

to join you in this private matter.

        It is in this truth, ourselves with another, that

we test the mettle of our discoveries, the cleanliness

of the mansions we live in.

 

I see stillness in the saga, retreat

when necessary and triumphant vows

in spite of chaos and the blood-drenched ground.

        I will never be fully born,

whole enough to join the stars in their whistling.

Each time it will be a sunflower plucked,

and the bee along with it,

each time torn awake –

on the threshold of death, only to master

the small stream before it widens into a river.

 

Each time,

love is a miracle – the movement forward, past

jagged huge stones, decaying corpses.

        Let your bare feet make contact, even lie flat,

naked, face down, take in

the sharp edges, the smell, the sight, then

answer back by rising and walking and

acknowledging the sky.

Say, love, my love,

you are more than habit,

you are the most treasured thing ever pulled from the void,

the only summer worth remembering, a seed

that turned into a thousand-year-old tree and yet still

just a seed, easily crushed, demanding nutrients and care.

 

Clear cutting, mud-thrashing,

faint smiles that unfold a cityscape of fears.

Barely making it, sure of decline, then suddenly, soaring –

one nod, the same need, mutual reviving genesis.

It is soft sometimes, but mostly impossible,

always impossible, alone.

 

Make up your mind.

Make a shell and break it completely.

Pick an apple, and chew.

 

 

 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

Published in “Outlaw Poetry” May 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/category/allison-grayhurst/

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/if-it-is-what-you-want-by-allison-grayhurst/

.

.

Published in “Elephant Journal” April 2018

https://www.elephantjournal.com/now/if-it-is-what-you-want-poem-by-allison-grayhurst/

 

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

 

.

It is a strange dream

.

It is a strange dream

 

 

to be a woman, this woman,

ripped out of an other-worldly childhood

into monthly nightmare extremes, and

the mess – the demanding insects crawling

under coat sleeves, pant cuffs, arm cuffs

onto belly and breasts, swollen, aching.

 

To grow curves and be looked at but not seen:

to be told to smile.

 

Then to bear the weight of another living being

cuckooing, blooming inside – shifting joints, altering

established gaits, and the hunger.

 

Being with those you bore and birthed

in every stair climbed, in every sleep, each minute,

never without their beings not beside yours, living

the greatest of all imaginings –

heaven in a hug, tangible in eyes

that are not yours but are threaded tightly to your nerves,

riveting through you – their breaths

more significant to your survival than your own, riveting

like fireworks and famine,

in their sorrow and brightness.

 

Almost grown, then grown and swinging from

bell-towers without safety nets, changing houses,

destroying rooms, forgetting, sometimes remembering, God.

The love, resonating into cracks in plaster, deeper

than the sound of a million singing bowls, singing, salting

your howl, and the chant of your joy.

 

They are mostly good, and you learn the lesson hard

that the greatest gift you can give them is knowing when

to hold on and when to let go, and you must let go.

 

The day comes near fifty when your body begins its final chapter –

starts slow, builds unacceptable,

steals sleep, sanity, your strong and capable shoulders.

No one knows, has to know, but you

refuse to keep it secret, refuse

the nagging misogynistic whispering shame.

 

Your home is blessed, your husband and you,

still mad, making love, in love, vibrating true to your visions,

a home haloed in struggle and uncompromised ideals.

You meditate, make a routine and stick to it, as this transformation

 

lasts for years. Sweaters on, sweaters off, heat

first on the face then infiltrating your spine, down, down,

spreading like hot poison, flooding every pore.

When it has gone far beyond the tolerable threshold,

then it lets up,

only to return and begin again.

 

What a strange dream I have never dreamt before –

to receive the climb, lie down with babes, nurse other beings

into their own, to release the cycle, enduring

the havoc of becoming yet anew.

 

I should not cry but be praising, grateful

to finally spin a journey in this form.

It is a high road, can be

a life-long sermon, and such a strange dream,

 

weaving me a pair of wings to flaunt, maybe

never flight-bound but always love-bound and

rich, rich as death, a backdrop

to the pale but pounding pulse of dreams,

the nut-meat, nectar

of eternal pilgrimage.

 

 

 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

Published in “Outlaw Poetry” May 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/category/allison-grayhurst/

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/if-it-is-what-you-want-by-allison-grayhurst/

.

.

Published in “Elephant Journal”, April 2018

https://www.elephantjournal.com/now/it-is-a-strange-dream-poem-by-allison-grayhurst/

 

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

 

.

.

Identity (as self to self before God)

.

Identity (as self to self before God)

.

.

Identity as explorer,

as an eagle with a powerful spread,

or as a sparrow, budding delicate, stirring

tenderness in others.

Identity as a mother, as a single flame monk

in the 4 a.m. quiet, under a dome, encased

in creativity and loneliness. Identity

as drink, poverty, excessive cash flow or beauty

beside the grave of the visibly mediocre.

 

Identity in discipline or free-spirit strength

that enriches the landscape with humour and charm.

Identity as a man whose skin has become core,

and the burden of time has passed through his sky

like a setting moon.

 

Stoic or gregarious, just the shape of a cloud,

changing, merging with other clouds

than dissipating. Speaking – backwards, forwards –

when the bearer of that identity dares to skip over the madness

of self-loathing, self-congratulating, skip

the moan in summer, the ovation indoors

 

and be in love,

like when first in love, ever swallowing

the joy into the fear, then the fear into joy,

the how-can-this-be? the will-I-ever-be-pure-enough?

struggling to keep up with such a devouring-bliss. Devour me,

 

more, more, let it be, be what never rests,

what is always too much, always

electrified, perfect. Heal me of identities,

allow me to step longing for divinity with every step,

engulfed in a splintering ecstasy while longing –

this beat, this beat – folding over, under and

everywhere, mastering the dance,

 

where my identity is just like a child with a toy,

there to enact a deed of great imagination.

 

 

 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Moongate Motherbird” April 2018

https://motherbird.com/identity-as-self-to-self-before-god-poem-by-allison-grayhurst/

.

.

Published in “Elephant Journal” April 2018

https://www.elephantjournal.com/now/identity-as-self-to-self-before-god-poem-by-allison-grayhurst/

 

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

 

.

Book 28: The Sculptures of Allison Grayhurst 

Book 28

The Sculptures of Allison Grayhurst 

(2018, Edge Unlimited Publishing; ASIN: B078TJTY37; ISBN-13: 978-1983534270; ISBN-10: 1983534277)

.

Link to free download of book:

Book 28 – The Sculptures of Allison Grayhurst

This book, The Sculptures of Allison Grayhurst , and all of its content are the copyright © of Allison Grayhurst 2018

 

You can purchase the book in paperback or kindle:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1983534277/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1515160092&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Sculptures+of+Allison+Grayhurst

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1983534277/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1515160391&sr=1-1&keywords=the+sculptures+of+allison+grayhurst

https://www.amazon.ca/dp/1983534277/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1515160452&sr=8-1&keywords=the+sculptures+of+allison+grayhurst

 

 

.

.

Living With Myself

.

Living With Myself

.

How many years before I arrive (guided as I am)

to the cliff, before I accept the fear, this view

as only a snake protecting my yard or as a way to keep me

ringing the bell? When was the last time a stranger

altered my octave, drove me, drum, drum

at the heels of some extreme belief?

This flesh is like oil paint that only sanding can clean.

My path is wanting.

I am with water, but no wave. I feel the water,

heavy as an avalanche,

soiled by so many fruitless beginnings.

But death will come, and the dust

that has already caked over my exuberance

will not be queen.

I will ride again unchanged, but this time

at sunrise, upon my beautiful horse, without

bridal and chain. I will regain mastery, pound at

the hot grass, at this constant edge –

relinquishing all.

.

.

Copyright © 2008 by Allison Grayhurst

3015

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

First published in “Spillwords Press”, June 2017

http://spillwords.com/living-with-myself/

http://spillwords.com/author/allisongrayhurst/

.

Sculpture “Girl” – photo and sculpture © Allison Grayhurst 2012

.

Published in “White Liquor” August 2017


https://steemit.com/poem/@whiteliquor/five-poems
http://whiteliquor.tk/

.

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.

Reviews of ‘The Many Lights of Eden’:

“’The Many Lights of Eden’ is a journey: a journey of the heart through youth, anguish, struggle, spiritual awakening, grief, death, love, loss, guilt, struggle, despair, hope, surrender, God, sensuality, imperfection, motherhood, aging, the vanquishing of the devil, indeed, many devils, the inevitable fall from perfection and the casting off of old wineskins for a new one. Perhaps speaking of this book as a chronicle of spiritual maturing would be more accurate, the realization that there is spirituality within imperfection and that handmade temples cannot hope to compete with the spiritual temples within each of us. ‘The Many Lights of Eden’ is a diamond. It is a beautiful collection of insights. Allison Grayhurst’s thoughts and writings are a deep well. Drink from it, for the water is clear and crisp. This collection is a MUST-READ,” Eric M. Vogt, author of Letters to Lara and Paths and Pools to Ponder

“I have been slow at responding to reviews for Allison Grayhurst due to summer’s busy days, however she brings life to each poem, heart to the images and everyone should have a collection of Grayhurst Poetry,” Ann Johnson-Murphree, poet.

.

.

All Hands Down

.

All Hands Down

.

Into the seams of non-existence

the cherished expectations of life descend

like a mother who loses her infant to the

turning of time, or a seed its husk

in May’s noon light.

There are heights to head towards,

compacted by the weight of reality’s call,

and a carpet to tread, unfamiliar with your footsteps.

In August, the summer will soon be over. It is

the shadow that falls from electrical wires

that makes you sink

into a moment without hope. It is watching sparrows

on eavestroughs that removes you from your daily struggles

and puts the flower back in its perfect place.

Waking to dread like a wave that pulls you under

every morning, motioned by the same ten-year cause,

and all the time you know the grave awaits you

like every other,

and it is just a matter now of growing old.

The street is still, even in late morning.

The buttercups have not yet bloomed.

You hear the wounded at your doorstep.

You have stopped waiting, but even that is not enough

to see you through.

 .

.

Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Spillwords Press” May 2017

http://spillwords.com/all-hands-down/

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

“Absolution” – sculpture and photo by Allison Grayhurst

Copyright © 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

 

.

“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.

.

 .

Jesus in my basement

.

Jesus in my basement

.

You are serious as the elements,

master of miracles that overcomes those elements.

You are golden and landing always

in the depth of true light.

I think at times I can hear your voice, immediate,

ambushing my breath and my lazy self-pity.

You call on me to change my skin, walk

this world with belief and wonder. You guide me

in your discipline, offer me promise, eternity,

hills and hills of lush mercy.

You want my words to be exhumed – to speak exact,

not be encased in avoidance, not caked in layers

of mind-twisting complexity.

Just to be here, in front of you – simple, unimportant,

broken by the world, remade by you.

 .

.

Copyright © 2008 by Allison Grayhurst

3015

img059

Currents - pastlife poems cover 4

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

First published in “Section 8 Magazine”, January 2017

section-8-jan-1 section-8-jan-3  section-8-jesus-in-my-basementsection-8-jan-bio

https://www.section8magazine.com/the-last-layer/

.

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

Sculpture “Above The Waters” sculpture and photographs by © Allison Grayhurst 2102

 

.

“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.

Reviews of ‘The Many Lights of Eden’:

“’The Many Lights of Eden’ is a journey: a journey of the heart through youth, anguish, struggle, spiritual awakening, grief, death, love, loss, guilt, struggle, despair, hope, surrender, God, sensuality, imperfection, motherhood, aging, the vanquishing of the devil, indeed, many devils, the inevitable fall from perfection and the casting off of old wineskins for a new one. Perhaps speaking of this book as a chronicle of spiritual maturing would be more accurate, the realization that there is spirituality within imperfection and that handmade temples cannot hope to compete with the spiritual temples within each of us. ‘The Many Lights of Eden’ is a diamond. It is a beautiful collection of insights. Allison Grayhurst’s thoughts and writings are a deep well. Drink from it, for the water is clear and crisp. This collection is a MUST-READ,” Eric M. Vogt, author of Letters to Lara and Paths and Pools to Ponder. 

 “I have been slow at responding to reviews for Allison Grayhurst due to summer’s busy days, however she brings life to each poem, heart to the images and everyone should have a collection of Grayhurst Poetry,” Ann Johnson-Murphree, poet.

.

.