Winter Walk

Posted on August 27, 2013 by Allison Grayhurst

Winter Walk

Together

like a single root

our arms link, mounting

this cold, humpback

city. We carry its air

in our lungs, and also the air

of night & kaleidoscope

sequence. We walk the

salted streets, not speaking.

Not now, not for a quick

eye-to-eye spark. Sirens

sound off around us. Bootprints

in every snowbank, leave an

echo of the quick-paced

crowd. We move down

an unchartered distance, and welcome

whatever splash of morning

that will offer to wed

our different-world ways.

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

First published in “Schrodinger’s Cat”, 1996

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

“Allison’s poetic prose is insightful, enwrapping, illuminating and brutally truthful. It probes the nature of the human spirit, relationships, spirituality and God. It is sung as the clearest song is sung within a cathedral by choir. It is whispered as faintly as a heartbroken goodbye. It is alive with the life of a thousand birds in flight within the first glint of morning sun. It is as solemn as the sad-sung ballad of a noble death. Read at your peril. You will never look at this world in quite the same way again. Your eye will instinctively search the sky for eagles and scan the dark earth for the slightest movement of smallest ant, your heart will reach for tall mountains, bathe in the most intimate of passions and in the grain and grit of our earth. Such is Allison Grayhurst. Such is her poetry,” Eric M. Vogt, poet and author.

“Grayhurst is a great Canadian poet. All of Allison Grayhurst’s poetry is original, sometimes startling, and more often than not, powerful. Anyone who loves modern poetry that does not follow the common path will find Grayhurst complex, insightful, and as good a poet as anyone writing in the world today. Grayhurst’s poetry volumes are highly, highly recommended,” Tom Davis, poet, novelist and educator.

In The Air

Posted on August 26, 2013 by Allison Grayhurst

In The Air

Your body, like a sponge

retains the music

of all scriptures born.

My hands flood over your wilderness

curves. Alone in the quiet

afternoon, cheeks pressed

& legs & fingers

shouting across skin, rubbing

bone & bell.

Your back, an ocean,

each muscles curling like a

wave unleashed after a storm.

I hold your ankles, your belly,

your spear. Too late to tame

the longing bite. The bed, a bath

of fire. We join, we drop

like birds below

the flesh & stars.

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

First published in “Cosmic Trend – Subtle Fires” 1994 under “Children In The Air”

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

“Somewhere Falling has a richness of imagery and an intensity of emotion rare in contemporary poetry. Drawn in sharp outlines of light and darkness, and rich shades of colour, with a deep sense of loss and longing and the possibility of salvation, this is an unusual book by a gifted young poet. Grayhurst’s voice is one to which we should continue to pay attention.” — Maggie Helwig, author of Apocalypse Jazz and Eating Glass.

“Responsibility and passion don’t often go together, especially in the work of a young poet. Allison Grayhurst combines them in audacious ways. Somewhere Falling is a grave, yet sensuous book.” – Mark Abley, author of Glasburyon and Blue Sand, Blue Moon.

“Biting into the clouds and bones of desire and devotion, love and grief, Allison Grayhurst basks the reader, with breathtaking eloquence, in an elixir of words. Like lace, the elegance is revealed by what isn’t said. This is stunning poetry.” – Angela Hryniuk, author of no visual scars.