Pendulum

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Pendulum

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Remove the spies

from my grief.

I cannot defend myself

with such pale armour.

I cannot tell you it will be eternal,

this day in which I burn for your soft mouth.

I cannot say the door is there,

it is always there.

I drown kisses on your neck.

I reach that wave of endless choice,

returning from episode to episode

of our unforgettable unions. And then

the stars seem to stumble around

the globe, tripping for no reason

into grave oblivion. Like us, they have

their secrets and sorrows they cannot

share. Like us, they glow in the night’s

pool-deep eye, unanchored

despite the gravity.

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© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst

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amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Raven Cage, Issue 26” September 2018

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hdv93t42aRcr5RMMyKCysJ3Fi08KwDgX/view

RavenCageZineIssue26

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Published in “Our Poetry Archive” November 2018

https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2018/11/allison-grayhurst.html

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Waking Up

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Waking Up

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In the dawn’s light clearing, I sweep

the glacier clouds

reach

my arms to your flesh, awakened from dream.

 

Plunging into ethereal

substance, head pressurized with fatigue,

your body pulled close to mine, and legs

criss-crossed like swords laid down –

 

I glance up

through our window, then down

to watch you roll over:

naturally revealed.

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© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst

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amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Our Poetry Archive” November 2018

https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2018/11/allison-grayhurst.html

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Heavy As Any Ache

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Heavy As Any Ache

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We cannot

hang in the grip of this cloud

for long. The waste

of bad habits, concealing

kindness with a show

of wit. Sarcasm as fatal

as a cut throat or plain as

a child’s cry.

Hearts stuffed with

hollow match-stick crimes.

 

Counter clockwise the sun spins. The moon

climbs the back of an angel, breaks

her thin spine.

 

You look the other way, look for a hero

rising from your hands, for a rainbow

in my flooded eyes.

 

It cannot be done. We cannot be more

than mortal.

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© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst

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.amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Our Poetry Archive” November 2018

https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2018/11/allison-grayhurst.html

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Treading Water

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Treading Water

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I hear hummingbird’s wings

figure-eight beneath my skin.

Too many bitten sandwiches, people

walking by, containing

their anguish.

The wordless hymn

is a waterfall, pouring

through the smoke: not a dry ocean,

but, rejoicing. But this mind

is like an axe, slaughtering my joy

with world-worn concerns.

 

Who craves the contradictory high? Do I?

Do I love for nothing but death and bramble?

 

To be blinded by ecstasy,

to hunt again for the colossal Self.

 

I walk through the dust-ridden morn.

The wind splits my shell like a labouring woman:

It enters. It expels. It knows

everything.

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

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amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

 

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Published in “Synchronized Chaos” June 2018

https://synchchaos.com/synchronized-chaos-june-2018/

http://synchchaos.com/poetry-from-allison-grayhurst-6/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Anonymous

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Anonymous

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The man on the corner curb,

knees bandaged and bloodstained,

mocks

each passer-by

with a wink from his drunken

eyes.

Long hair like seaweed

glued around his neck and shoulders.

Child

of a tortured past, says he sees miracles

looking into storefront windows.

Lovers

ignore him, only children notice,

tugging on pant legs with defiance and

trepidation.

Says he plays cards with leprechauns,

has lived through an avalanche which fractured his

soul

into two. Unravels his bandages and shows

his wound: can’t remember how it happened.

Rain

floods his open hands.

His mouth, catching drops like

diamonds.

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

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Published in “The Pangolin Review, Issue 3.5”, June 2018

https://thepangolinreview.wixsite.com/mypoetrysite/current-issue-1

https://thepangolinreview.wixsite.com/mypoetrysite/archives

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Ambush Your Rage

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Ambush Your Rage

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Savour the shock

that makes a weak person perish.

            Savour the shape

of abandonment in an old man’s eyes,

the grit of bitterness that taints the forgotten,

the pinpoint range of hurt

which lasts beyond

all means of distraction or comfort.

            Savour the fruit of your

awareness, its fierce caress and symbolism.

            Live long along the roadside’s edge. Let

the ants weave your shroud.

            Give nothing to the canyons, to the diving

bottom-feeders while winter freezes overhead.

            Give nothing to this minnow town, these

streets of helter-skelter code.

            Let the heron guide the way as you

kneel before your destined trials

and seize the tide

to follow.

 

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

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amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “”Synchronized Chaos” June 2018

https://synchchaos.com/synchronized-chaos-june-2018/

http://synchchaos.com/poetry-from-allison-grayhurst-6/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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The Way of Separation

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The Way of Separation

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If today I cry for you

would you weep

with me, though

your paradise is found

and my life is strange to your eyes?

 

Blue shade in my

palm. Midnight in

my shoe. I give up

hope, give up the covers

to shield me from ruin.

 

If you could love me differently,

with a love not so dead to deeds,

so proud in its moral conviction,

would the moon appear different too,

and its bone-white light, could I bear it

whole?

 

            I learn to will my famine numb

            I learn our intimacy was hollow,

            nothing is sure but God

            I learn the way starfish see –

            slow, slow change, that none

            but the intent can observe.

 

                        (Mortal heart

                        that hears the

                        resonating thunder,

                        feels the owl’s burning

                        eyes. Modern heart

                        of secret logic, robed

                        in the gales of a coming

                        age.)

 

 

Do you remember the heat

of our stride, our anxious days

of youth, christened by our friendship?

 

You go into airy ideals.

I break with your walking.

 

You go into arms that praise your every gesture.

I look to the river.

 

You ask my forgiveness.

I am stronger now, enough

 

to bless (and I bless)

without taking.

 

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “”Synchronized Chaos” June 2018

https://synchchaos.com/synchronized-chaos-june-2018/

http://synchchaos.com/poetry-from-allison-grayhurst-6/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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