OnlyOneGod

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OnlyOneGod

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In you I place

the hope of centuries,

a hope beginning before

the pounding of water on rock.

For you I sang the anthem

of my ancient race and

waited to hear a reply.

Before you, I stand

revealed, lonely, in need of change.

Against you, I lean

like a child who has never known parents

or any connection for so so long.

Because of you, I remember

the gifts in my hands, the core of my striving

and the reasons I have

to stay

  with you

  in you

  where I place

  my will and means

              to be restored.

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Copyright © 2008 by Allison Grayhurst

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Published in “SUFI Journal, Issue #95 Sacred Spaces” June 2018 (Featured Poet)

https://www.sufijournal.org/95-featured-poet/

https://www.sufijournal.org/sufi-back-issues/

https://www.sufijournal.org/sufijournal-latest-issue/

Sufi Journal Issue 95

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Thread Count

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Thread Count

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Tumble down

the ocean stairs,

mounting the whales’ trail,

maneuvering depths and distances

unfathomed.

 

Dream in the city at 5 a.m., accustomed

to the speech that comes just before the birds

awake and take away all formation of song.

 

This doorway, like a driving marked nightmare

cursing your already blooming cloud. Tomorrow

is the same leg-chain to drag behind, the same

shrinking dome to be lived under.

 

But tonight, I have you like a burning death,

one spot burning, one place in the house, fast

and immediate, wielding shapes

out of tall-far-away trees, from mind spaces,

fresh as newborn fish navigating

coral reefs and seeing which caves to hide in

or seeing what is hiding in –

patient predators.

 

Tonight, the bath water is ready, rooting

my body to its sensations.

The spell is dissolved, and clarity

becomes gold, a hailstorm of ecstasy, reaping

many more than one plateau, gliding gigantic above

these graves, loud, rudimentary, I have you,

nailing the flame

to both of our sinking thighs.

 

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 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Outlaw Poetry” June 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/thread-count-by-allison-grayhurst/

 

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

 

 

 

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The Last Say

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The Last Say

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Call it an infestation of worms

floor-mapping your innards.

Call it an impossible current

directing you over the crater-fall

or a whispered breath ricocheting

inside your skull that whispers “Loser!

Fool! You have never belonged!”

 

But you must belong, you must let it burn you out,

possess you with its electrical charge. Turn on

the microphone and scream its ownership

over you. Call it debris – plastic bags in the belly

of a dolphin. Call it hot liquid iron rising

to seal your throat, lock it so you cannot swallow.

 

Imagine yourself a greenhouse and store

your treasure there, place your orphaned lizards

in vegetable beds and tell them they are safe,

give them a home to thrive in.

Don’t crash or perish, but open, stay open

even as your nerves are poltergeist-haunted

and the flower you grew, counted on to keep growing

is snapped at the stem, ground-level.

 

How can you change it? You can’t. It is summer.

The last day of school. You wanted to harness your heart,

give it a safety net far from the rocks,

but it is all a choice – autonomous.

This is your nest, put in it what you will.

Trust in the green juice inside your branches,

don’t let the ice-melting platform at your feet prevail.

God is tender so you must be too,

keep your tenderness afloat,

even when soaked in frigid water.

Let the pressure threaten

to kill you. It won’t kill you.

 

Loosen the knot and climb under

the jettison cliff’s edge.

Hang upside down. It is a long way to fall,

but your arms are strong and something stronger still

is holding you in its sustaining embrace.

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 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Outlaw Poetry” June 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/the-last-say-by-allison-grayhurst/

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

 

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

 

 

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The Field is Open

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The Field is Open

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Going on, unable to order

a plot of land that is not a prison pen.

Monotony spreading, reflected in

nerve endings frantic with anxiety.

Repetitive motion, futility rises, and also that voice

that wants to turn even this into a ceremony,

but can’t, can’t stomach the steps, the one-by-one steps

of petty materialism that must be endured, focused

on, taken so seriously. Going on, like a torturous

continuance, swelling the mind with mealworm madness.

Going on, with no way out, a lifetime sentence,

a sorrow that has metastasised into despair.

 

Dig out, dig me out, let the miracle rise and cover

my home. Multiplying buds – at the entrance, entering,

side-stepping this sinister fate, slicing

the circle, cleared of the heavy shadows, cleared

to name a new street and walk down it.

 

Receiving like birds receive

music, breaking the ethereal framework,

dissolving the rut grime delusion,

peeking over the top, peace

taken into the mouth, peace

that is grace, that is receiving,

fastened freely to the flow.

 

 

 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Outlaw Poetry” May 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/the-field-is-open-by-allison-grayhurst/

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

 

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

 

 

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Treading Water

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Treading Water

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I hear hummingbird’s wings

figure-eight beneath my skin.

Too many bitten sandwiches, people

walking by, containing

their anguish.

The wordless hymn

is a waterfall, pouring

through the smoke: not a dry ocean,

but, rejoicing. But this mind

is like an axe, slaughtering my joy

with world-worn concerns.

 

Who craves the contradictory high? Do I?

Do I love for nothing but death and bramble?

 

To be blinded by ecstasy,

to hunt again for the colossal Self.

 

I walk through the dust-ridden morn.

The wind splits my shell like a labouring woman:

It enters. It expels. It knows

everything.

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

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Published in “Synchronized Chaos” June 2018

https://synchchaos.com/synchronized-chaos-june-2018/

http://synchchaos.com/poetry-from-allison-grayhurst-6/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Anonymous

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Anonymous

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The man on the corner curb,

knees bandaged and bloodstained,

mocks

each passer-by

with a wink from his drunken

eyes.

Long hair like seaweed

glued around his neck and shoulders.

Child

of a tortured past, says he sees miracles

looking into storefront windows.

Lovers

ignore him, only children notice,

tugging on pant legs with defiance and

trepidation.

Says he plays cards with leprechauns,

has lived through an avalanche which fractured his

soul

into two. Unravels his bandages and shows

his wound: can’t remember how it happened.

Rain

floods his open hands.

His mouth, catching drops like

diamonds.

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

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amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “The Pangolin Review, Issue 3.5”, June 2018

https://thepangolinreview.wixsite.com/mypoetrysite/current-issue-1

https://thepangolinreview.wixsite.com/mypoetrysite/archives

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Ambush Your Rage

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Ambush Your Rage

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Savour the shock

that makes a weak person perish.

            Savour the shape

of abandonment in an old man’s eyes,

the grit of bitterness that taints the forgotten,

the pinpoint range of hurt

which lasts beyond

all means of distraction or comfort.

            Savour the fruit of your

awareness, its fierce caress and symbolism.

            Live long along the roadside’s edge. Let

the ants weave your shroud.

            Give nothing to the canyons, to the diving

bottom-feeders while winter freezes overhead.

            Give nothing to this minnow town, these

streets of helter-skelter code.

            Let the heron guide the way as you

kneel before your destined trials

and seize the tide

to follow.

 

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

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amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “”Synchronized Chaos” June 2018

https://synchchaos.com/synchronized-chaos-june-2018/

http://synchchaos.com/poetry-from-allison-grayhurst-6/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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