You walk

.

You walk

.

.

the branches.

 

You put Sunday in your

pocket. Unlike you, I am not

destined for immeasurable acts.

 

I speak to the stones, to someone like you,

looking up your stairway, into your hallway

of a holy place.

 

You move to the rooftop,

eyeing the crowd with a distant tear.

 

I would hold my hands out to you but

your love is criminal, is metal slowly

burning through the streets, congesting

the autumn air.

 

Why do you devour me

into your sweet, immaculate hell?

 

You circle me and circle my door with your

smiles and waves

of irresponsible feigned devotion.

 

I am too soft for such deception.

I am no rock, no easy rider.

 

Your lies like your beauty

live in me, aimlessly

 

cutting.

 

 

 

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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Nomad and Wife

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Nomad and Wife

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            Her dying bones

which still have the strength

of moon and fight are held

up on his altar-hut.

            Watching over – a small

figure with the once milking

flow of feminine

curve and charm.

            He will not be undone

by the pain or

winter’s fast approach.

(He places a carved bird at her feet.)

            He has killed for her dignity

marred and she for the power of his

wide-set eyes. They touch

hand to weatherworn hand

and know the sensation

singular like the sun

is singular in its power

to bless or deprive.

            They do not smile, their union

is too rich for such

a soft space between.

(They remember their children)

            Watching as her life departs,

his anguish echoes the high plains

undefended, heard only

by the gods. And the trees

so placid, absorb each cry,

accepting.

 

 

 

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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Birth

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Birth

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I hear the tumbleweed bounce

and the jewelled breath of the

antelope. Pebbles under my

tongue. His aura is heavenbound.

His mind is breaking up

in his landscape beyond my reach.

I turn to him – his leg stretched

out, tilting clockwise.

 

Where power is shapeless

and some shrilling sorrow

is sealed in fishbowl eyes,

ruling from behind glass worlds –

I see him born, towering between

flesh. His head is a miracle, a

signing bonfire.

 

I turn to him. I run to him.

His belly makes me weep. Pulsing

up and down, warm with life.

 

He is coming out from the

quicksand wound. His beauty,

quenchless. His is innocence is

revived.

 

 

 

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

Published in “Synchronized Chaos” June 2018

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

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

.

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

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Helen

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Helen

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She rises from the flower-pot soil,

 

sad as a caged Queen.

 

Her hands, fixed behind,

 

pushing her head towards

 

the moon.

 

Her lips as still as

 

trees after a storm, lying flat

 

and bloodless. She does not

 

let her hair down, or her

 

firm skin flex.

 

She has seen what lies underneath

 

where worms and millipedes crawl.

 

Half of her still there –

 

the other half, awakening

 

struggling up, away from the tar-sand

 

ruins.

 

 

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Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Madness Muse Press LLC” May 2018

5 Poems by Allison Grayhurst

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Feline Dream

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Feline Dream

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Winter comes like a blank page

dropping over the city.

 

Houses glow in

T.V. light,

dulled and eerier.

 

Somewhere my mind has lost itself,

trekking through this burning time.

 

I see the eyes of animals in every place.

I see a kestrel cribbed in the sky, beating

against clouds and taunting crows.

 

I do not know what I am:

 

I live the nights through like a cat,

soothed by poetry

and the moon-white

fury

of solitude

 

under stones.

 

 

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Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Madness Muse Press LLC” May 2018

5 Poems by Allison Grayhurst

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.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

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Missed the Mark

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Missed the Mark

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I felt I could almost run

the passage.

 

But the mist and

the naked days

of winter’s burning

snows

made my head heavy and

a purpose too slender to follow.

 

A twisted brightness came crashing

through the ghosts surrounding.

 

Nothing but a comforting

numb held my feet to the ground.

 

I thought my blood was more

than words. I thought to claim

my flesh anew.

 

But love shifts like coastal waters

and only the drumming tides

of error and time

can guide me now –

 

away.

 

 

.

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Madness Muse Press LLC” May 2018

5 Poems by Allison Grayhurst

.

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

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No Wedding Day

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No Wedding Day

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Held up by the strings

and the ragged chains

of expectation.

 

This is the

last vein to burst,

the last root

to dry.

 

Keep your milk

and music for

the moon – mother

of dreams, mother

of personal metaphor.

 

The marriage ring has taken

its final curve.

From now on, only

a gypsy smile,

only a trumpet blow

for the wanderer’s freedom.

 

Clouds cave over the sun

like a fist. Children play on

the green-pink hills

as all disappointments line up

on the wave of their laughter

to be killed or

pardoned.

 

 

.

Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Madness Press Muse LLC” May 2018

5 Poems by Allison Grayhurst

.

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

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