Crystal dark

.

sound, woodpecker

foraging, near, nearing

spice

on my fingertips –

relaxed appropriation.

Backpacks and scarcity,

only the Zen flavour

of moving, taking necessities,

giving up newly bought coats

to strangers on buses.

Bus routes going to unexplained territories

vocalizing droning dreams

of the misused, disenfranchised

ruthlessly bored,

cardboard box lifespans

arrows pointing back from the way

you came,

mounds of

silver sorrows, pee-stains

on stones, what is left but dead planets done with

geological formations, never

knowing scattering amoebas, only

knowing failed attempts at rhythm, equilibrium,

rubble,

aftermaths of harsh creation,

pointless rock-globes

spinning

with moons   no signs of summer.

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Copyright © 2015 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Indiana Voice Journal, Issue 10” May 2015

http://www.indianavoicejournal.com/p/blog-page_1367.html

http://www.indianavoicejournal.com/2015/05/indiana-voice-journal-may-2015-issue-10.html

http://www.indianavoicejournal.com/2015/05/allison-grayhurst-three-poems-crystal.html

This poem “Crystal Dark” has been nominated for Sundress Publications “Best of the Net” 2015

http://www.indianavoicejournal.com/p/blog-page_74.html

.

Click to access 20151023No_Raft_No_Ocean_by_Allison_Grayhurst.pdf

.

http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers

 .

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

When I met an angel

she was on a subway car

.

Dyed, dull blonde,

roots showing, hunched

over, more than middle age.

No conversation, but

a half smile, a slight nod and

looking affectionately, in my mind saying,

“You should already know

God is here, present when you have no

strength to even ask or search, when both sides

of the tunnel are blocked and the only

way out is up, through loose earth and an inevitable

collapse. God is here, you know,

I am.

How many times do I have to be obvious

to re-kindle your faith?

How many times have I loved you,

drenching you with miracles,

sending you to the depths to find flight,

sending you to a choice of yes or no, so you can

remember

I love you – where trusting me is loving me

is all there is left always to do?”

When I met an angel, she was on a subway car,

temporarily normal – at once

personal, at once divine.

.

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Copyright © 2015 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Prachya Review” September 2015

http://www.prachyareview.com/september-issue/

http://www.prachyareview.com/category/poetry/

http://www.prachyareview.com/2015/09/page/2/

http://www.prachyareview.com/when-i-met-an-angel-she-was-on-a-subway-car-allison-grayhurst/

.

Click to access Make_the_Wind20160404Allison_Grayhurst.pdf

.

http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

I have been born

. 

a thousand times over,

flaked into existence by

force, by will and by desire.

I have had my days

under the siege of physical limitations,

of bloodlines burned and bloodlines

mended. There is no more

time for this rotating scheme,

no space for waiting

or for continuing. I stop here. Unplugging the

flow, breathing only because

I want to, because

this skin that is mine is

the last skin I will ever claim

as the landscapes I drop, drop, then

drop me.

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