Prometheus Speaks

Prometheus Speaks



Prometheus speaks

from my bathroom tiles, wailing

his defiance and fiery nightingale burning

with his tongue still unrooted

and his limbs bound to the rock, spread

like wings – Titan of the windfall, humanity’s

hope and champion, more brilliant than

his dumb and primitive siblings, more committed

than their arrogant and willful offspring.


Prometheus in the shower curtain, dripping

liquid fire down the drain, plunging

into the underworld depths

then up for a greater torment to meet the predator bird,

dispelling all screams and ghosts and holding tight

to his suffering-throne and his compassion

for such a flawed creation.


Prometheus finally rescued

as the warm water exerts itself from on high,

– strong Herculean flow –

the wounded centaur accepting his fate.

Flow Prometheus,

trustworthy, burning, speaking

your conquering gospel,

the first crucifixion

the first flame ignited

before love’s great inception.




Copyright © 2020 by Allison Grayhurst



First published in “As It Ought To Be Magazine” September 2020



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:



Take a Tree

Take a Tree



Take a tree

and its bond to the Earth,

its spell upon the sky

its stretch and swing among the squirrels.


That tree is all trees,

powerful without a pulse,

slow to hunger and slow to react.

It sleeps when it wakes,

receiving its action even when in full bloom.


        Somebody climbed that tree,

wanted to build a fort but didn’t,

just sat between a strong forked branch

and looked across and down.

        Another touched that tree, its crust trunk,

the folds and curves of its sensual permanence.

In that touch was found a different measure of time,

a way to stand back and wait for growth.

In that touch was a shifting,

deeper than meditation,

connecting below and above rooftops.


Take a tree, in any season, at any time of the day,

the alien dimensions it moves between,

its response to the moon.


Knock on that tree softly and it will open.

It will greet you,

invite you in and show you a place

without dance, without disorder –

primordial creation, a wellspring-confidence,

a dream    that has no dreamer.




Copyright © 2020 by Allison Grayhurst



First published in “BlogNostics” September 2020



You can listen to the poem by clicking below: