What Do I Belong To?

I waited like a face

before a mirror

waiting for expression,

waiting for an answer to carry me through

until mealtime.

I washed the clothes, did all things

necessary to keep clean and fertile,

to rejuvenate and knead out the numbness

infiltrating one limb and another.

I asked like I was instructed to ask,

grazing at every opportunity, in spite

of the lack.

I moved against the shadows so they

wouldn’t consume, making every effort

not to harden, to curtail

this stasis that will turn to sickness and

turn again to death.

I am waiting for a reaping

in this favourite place

I call my own, so I can build upon,

have a steady flow to satiate all thirst,

have breathing room to flesh-out dreams –

some prayed for, some unexpected.

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Copyright © 2024 by Allison Grayhurst

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Published in “Setu” April 2024

https://www.setumag.com/2024/03/Lit-Art-Culture-Journal.html

https://www.setumag.com/2024/03/poetry-allison-grayhurst.html

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Published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” March 2024

https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/03/maelstrom.html

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Published in “Winamop” March 2024

http://winamop.com/ag2400.htm

http://winamop.com/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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In the Bloodline

In the bloodline

like walls of lead

storing blockages like

clots and unlivable dilemmas,

the past is a monster

telling you what and what you don’t

deserve, beating on your brain

like on a dusty rug that will never

rid itself of mites no matter how hard

it is hit, will never release

its stains, can only be thrown out, over

the rail, into the dumpster.

In the vital present, uncompromised by thought

and expectations, nothing is determined,

no fortune teller to foretell what doesn’t yet exist.

Gravity is a false witness,

a trickster in the fold, folding this into that

into complex patterns void of significance,

except as patterns to follow, analyze, get lost in

as a desperate hope for control.

But the galaxy is not gravity,

is affectionate, unpredictable, purer

than understanding.

Bloodlines are straight lines

that nature abhors.

Ignore common enemies,

blow out the candles, blow,

arousing the birthing pulse

of a strange and glorious logic.

Copyright © 2024 by Allison Grayhurst

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.

Published in “Setu” April 2024

https://www.setumag.com/2024/03/Lit-Art-Culture-Journal.html

https://www.setumag.com/2024/03/poetry-allison-grayhurst.html

.

.

Published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” March 2024

https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2024/03/maelstrom.html

.

.

Published in “Winamop” March 2024

http://winamop.com/ag2400.htm

http://winamop.com/

.

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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