Revival

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Be still, in the hostile landscape, be still,

find provision, refuse the fear.

Firmly self-sufficient, valuing your

success measured by fulfilment of God’s commands

and the sweet exchange of eternal experiences.

Is there anything to regret? No,

there is only what must be given up

– self-pity – the grotesque body

that grew beside your own, grew because

of your suffering, a deformity that

grew to help you carry the weight of that suffering,

a deformity that held a place for your secret pride.

But now, unbound, you must mercy-kill it,

release and dissolve its surface layers and under-layers.

It is always in a state of perpetual decay, supporting.

Release the poltergeist apparition,

re-distribute your cells, align

without its sickly features haunting and its whisperings

that lead to madness, whispering

“This suffering is yours. How amazing you are to carry it!”

and “No one will love you if you don’t carry it.”

Be loved in your joy and crazy impulses,

your sinews riveting creative overflow.

Be bouncing, impossible, wrenched from its illusion,

off your leash, off your rocker.

Discover dignity under the high trees,

by the rapids, skipping stones,

stepping on the slippery rocks,

stepping closer to the thrashing contours,

closer yet to its elemental song.

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© 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “BlogNostics” January 2019

https://blognostics.net/blognostics-an-innovative-experience-in-literature-poetry-and-art/2019/02/11/revival-by-allison-grayhurst/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Calling In

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If you see the daybreak

but cannot walk out of the cave,

if you are still feasting on small beetles and cave-moss

instead of apples and mushrooms, how far really

does your sight go? Far, winning yourself

a legacy but not far enough to be more than

a story told.

How do you collect the emptiness and make a stone,

a salvation, carved with a celestial roof and sturdy ground?

Beg for movement – ask to drink from the cup today –

to perch on the hillside, walk down

the hillside and greet the blessing

like an open-hearted child, running

full speed into your arms.

Take more than symbols, signs, tarot and spells.

Lick the forehead of love, taste the salt

on your tongue, gently covering folds and creases.

Stay in the glory, tangible, building, connecting.

The deck is clear. Hatch the egg.

Search the upper rooms,

carry your bed to the second floor, welcome in

the seductive sweetness, invite it to climb your steps.

First, shedding its secrets, single in its carnal commitment.

Then, feeding your body with its gravity and resolve.

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© 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “BlogNostics” January 2019

https://blognostics.net/blognostics-an-innovative-experience-in-literature-poetry-and-art/2019/01/29/calling-in-by-allison-grayhurst/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Snip the Seams

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Snip the cord

Snip the line

Denial is suffering

under the veil of false

understanding.

The wound is the womb,

the low-road and the high shore-line.

Snip all means of flight,

all laws and inhibitions.

Shapes made are never final,

words too, alter meaning.

Look and snip

the draining pipe, the solid memory.

The way you were sure was open

but never was, snip

and be done with it.

Why the painter who cannot paint, hot days

in global-warming winter,

the bird bath with a hole?

Scissor-queen, wire-cutter machine, bow

to the bitter land before you, make peace

with the locking tide. Snip

the pictures from the walls,

the broken limb from the rest of the body.

Try it on. Wear it before a mirror, into a crowd.

Pass over the keys.

Take tomorrow, hold tomorrow now

and snip.

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.© 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Cordella Magazine” March 2019

http://www.cordella.org/fieldnotes/snip-the-seams

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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