Beyond The Grave – the song and the poem

 

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

 

The Poem:

 

Beyond The Grave

If all the seeds fell like blood

or blood like seeds into

the ravenous earth and time

was a wagging tail in the dark

then I would know that death would come

by any reason and be a blessing

all on its own. But as it is, death is

the hollow spot of the living – some with

grief and others with fear, and me myself,

it is memory that unbuttons the flesh of my chest

to leave me poked and burning.

It is the hill I climb and stumble

down its rocky incline whenever I return

if only once a day

to meet death’s stalking eyes.

It is not my heart that fails me,

but the things outside

like the shadow on the neighbours’ window

and the frightening madness of so many strangers.

It is here and there like an insect

on my wall, like the fatherly love

I’ll never find again in another’s eyes,

but is with me in the coming autumn air,

and in the quietude of these joy-filled days.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011   

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Veil – Journal of Darker Musings”

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Girl – the song and the poem

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

 

The Poem:

 

Girl

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Under the willow tree a girl

was standing, lonely with

the worst of nights ahead.

They said

drink from the tarpit waters and swallow

the oysters that lost their shells.

She saw the drug the wind made

though she did not let it shift her steadfast heart.

Everywhere the notion stood

that fighting back is better than

the tender wave, better than

empathy and believing in affection.

The willow leaves have gone brown and the girl has moved

beside a cliff. She dances as though she

could not fall. And though they gasp to pity

her poor body against rocks and ridges,

she continues to move like a beautiful sound,

sure of the hand that guides her.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011     

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Out of Our”, 2012

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Bellythroes of God

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Bellythroes of God

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The rawness behind the mastery,

the way to speak of the bellythroes

of God and kneel while doing so,

kneel not from the hindered place of    

God        and       I,

but from knowing it is all God even

your self is God, and you are and God is love wider than air,

more abundant than eternity. Kneel

because this love is both personal and absolute,

it is reaching to you alone while

spreading thick the blaze of stars.

Kneel because for a fraction of a second you

know it is never God who stops giving, but it is

you who stop receiving, you who block

the constant flow, you who deflect it with your habits,

boredom and fear. That God is always there but that

you only feel God’s presence when you decide to,

when you let the barriers crack and split a

sliver in your daily husk of coasting existence.

 

Sometimes too, when grief becomes the sword this

soft word never prepares you for –

when with this word grief

you begin to hear not only the sorrow but also the scream

that hits like a hurricane pulling a child from

your breast. And there it is grief in all its monstrous

proportions. There it is, the very thin line

between God and chaos

with the soul’s ultimate peace at stake. Faith is the bridge.

For the faithless in grief would either go mad or harden like

little pellets in a mid-February storm. The faithless would

not know how to cope and stay whole.

 

Kneel because you know God is the dream we all seek

whether we it know or not.

God is the goal of all our striving –

the financier nestling in the fat, protective arms

of worldly security, the intellectual

devouring ideas like solutions,

ideas as a path to lead to some mysterious

ever-complex cerebral calm,

the soccer player feeling her victory in her torn ligaments

and in the shafts of her sweaty hair –

We look but we do not name it as such.

We look but God still is not the priority,

not the weight of all our emotions and thoughts,

not the bulk of our dilemmas, and not

the subject of our intimate talk.

God is something to hide from, the one hope

we all innately look for in prayer books

or in politicians. But God is not something

to be looked for, God is simply something to see.

God is my cup of restive tea. God in my shopping cart.

God in the standard and not-so-standard things –

in a teenager or a brick wall,

in an animal’s unexpected tenderness or

a dull piece of box.

God is not something to discover

but something to finally, wholeheartedly acknowledge.

God is and we are when we embrace

the boundless directed compassion of God,

when we realize that God is the only one thing we need

that can grow to be stronger than gravity

and the cold desperation for survival.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011

img059

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “New Mystics” August 2017

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.

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Still brimming with awe,

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Still brimming with awe,

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and cuddling sweet against your

father’s welcoming cheek.

Still bizarre in the light of

your unique humour and stubborn

as the apple tree is strong in the

happy earth.

Turning One tomorrow and all the things

you’ve learned in that span –

to say a word, to grow in kindness and

in temperament, to laugh out loud.

All the things you still are – a soul

of amazing riches, thoughtful and gentle

and so sure of yourself.

Still entranced with all things small and new.

Still each day we awake to your beauty

as we look into your strange sea-coloured eyes

and bend to smell the strands of your wispy hair.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” July 2017

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.ca/2017/07/peer-owlish.html

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.

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Almost a Girl

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Almost a Girl

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We play with sounds,

making a flower out of tissue paper.

She bounces a ball,

miming the harmony of its rise and fall.

She paints with strokes

that calls the orange seed to bloom,

and all the while she dances

to the starlight’s tune, loving

its brave expression.

We read tales told in rhymes

and sniff the picked herbs

in our garden.

Every morning we count spoons

and watch the boys play next door.

She knows her colours purple and blue,

plays Boo! behind the door.

Her body beats an ancient symphony of affection,

loving easily my inviting arms.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

First published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” July 2017

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.ca/2017/07/peer-owlish.html

 

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.

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Found

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Found

While in a century surrendered to

a howling vision that bridged

the Earth to God,

while in the chaos of the self-assured

and beautiful, with obstacles of half-felt focus

and rough charm

dropping like heavy hail along my path,

I found you. I found a mind

that could not join the perpetual

and charred motions of loveless togetherness.

I found someone who held to truth like a child,

thick with depth and a rare sort of intensity.

Someone who hasn’t the wherewithal to deceive,

who is freed by his belief in lasting, evergrowing love,

who faced the terror and turned

to serve the implausible, only possible mercy.

 

I no longer cry from loneliness. The light is in

his body and all around is the labyrinth of his mystery.

My eleven-year lover who still haunts me

with his impassioned creative touch, who loves me like I am,

mostly bare and broken, though sometimes

high with gratitude, glittering,

at peace.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011

img069

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Treehouse Arts” July 2017

https://treehousearts.me/2017/07/26/poetry-found-by-allison-grayhurst/

https://treehousearts.me/2017/04/08/poetry-by-allison-grayhurst-no-raft-no-ocean-odie-and-under-the-rib-cage/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.

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Funeral

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Funeral

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The photograph of her face –

bold as one who knows herself completely –

as the bagpipes blew

and I could hear her voice

gently humming the tune.

There were strangers everywhere

in the crowded room of grievers and

in her daughter’s eyes. It was

only her

I loved and her I will miss.

She cradled the land ever so deeply

and dreamt elaborate and graceful worlds,

etched in the smoothest of stones.

She is shared by so many.

But for me, my love was personal,

and it is not so easy to hold

this severed vine of gold, not so easy to let go

of her rare and destined heart

that helped give shape to my own.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “The Poetry Community” June 2017

 

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.

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