Walking

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Walking

A grain I throw

in the water, floating, ready to

sink. I see you – thin as anyone

must be living on such an edge – tense

and tired of holding your breath. So many years –

a raging prophet, flailing your limbs

to keep the barnacles off, to keep the ones you love

close and to keep your mission in perfect purity.

 

These days the summer is dried spit on the pavement.

It opens my eyes to the struggle everywhere – pigeons

waiting for water, children running up the dry incline,

facing a bridge, the great restructuring.

 

You, riding the gilded wing – love is like the Earth’s dirt,

necessary, elemental, and its smell, saturated with memories.

I love you: Sometimes it is easy.

Sometimes I am a woman in God’s funnel cloud,

bending back to look, but seeing only storm.

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Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst

3017

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “FoxGlove Journal” March 2017

https://foxglovejournal.wordpress.com/2017/03/26/walking-allison-grayhurst/

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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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Drift

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Drift

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Held still

like apple butter held

smooth on the tongue, catching

grief in a cage, on the surface

of a name – would it be

kissing or pinning a broken coat-zipper

together – once the fog has left is there

anything left to hold out for? Hold still for,

like a hooked fish releasing the struggle?

Being alive in the dream-state ambiguity,

meaning full then meaning naught and

how old are you?

 

Your horse, Dee, steady

in the sunlight, glinting a wild connectivity,

intelligence gleaming across a chestnut coat,

bowed head, permission to pet granted and then

sleeping in a stall, talking outload when everyone else

had gone home. It was not a dream,

not until she was gone and then it was a dream

lost, and maybe never there.

 

People love their trees

the ones they think they own. But I never loved a tree like

I loved the willow tree in my Montreal backyard. I never

loved anyone who hadn’t died at least a hundred years

before I was born until

 

there was you, rounding up the stones from every table,

sitting alone only to stand up again before the seat

warmed, and ‘perfect’ made sense but nothing ever expected.

 

Dee and the willow tree. I left my body and flew

into the sun.

 

Why can’t I leave my body and fly into the sun,–

meals taken care of,

sex and you, a beautiful summer star.

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Copyright © 2017 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “CultureCult Magazine, Volume 2, Number 1, Issue 7”  March 2017

http://culturecult.in/latestissue/

https://www.amazon.com/CultureCult-Magazine-Issue-Jagannath-Chakravarti/dp/1544911793/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1490542941&sr=8-2&keywords=culturecult

CultureCult Magazine – Issue #7

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Something

 

Something

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fell from the tree,

a fruit to lighten my dense cloud.

Last night I dreamt of a charade that pulled

the carpet out from under the world – deception favoured,

gathered for years and then made a mockery of – deception

with a shocking tongue, deception still, but ruthless in its

quest for anarchy.

 

Thank you for my fruit, for a better place than yesterday.

Thank you for the hope for survival.

I will step where you send me.

I will follow your lead. And someday

I will find the place I never knew,

find serenity where once

there was anxiety, fulfillment

in the here and now.

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Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst

3017

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “AWS Publishing” March 2017

http://awspublishing.com/poetry/

http://awspublishing.com/poetry/353/something/

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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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Steel and Spice

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Steel and Spice

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Inch across

the bell-cups of lilies

in the dead oblivion

of decades of reality’s denial.

 

Inch into the sweetness

of a lilac’s centre,

nourished on imagination everytime

over the bite of bitter soup.

 

Gather the crows in your morning sky,

ask them to envelop you and then ask

their forgiveness.

 

Hiding your panic

in the promises of miracles, licking the acid

off of your skin to make for a good story,

for the belief in an undamageable surface.

Mistaking silk for bread, counting on

God’s kindness to come on the brink

of desperate need.

 

Will you now

be a slave to the feast of worms or

strip-mine until what little gold you find

feels like abundance?

 

Maybe you are safe, living in this

burning garden, protected with a poet’s peace

and by a faith that bypasses gravity’s consequences, but

has consequences and demands of its own – ones

you must live by and dedicate yourself to keep

 

turn a blind-eye to practicality,

and press all fear into a resounding prayer,

existing on the substance of

divine gifts, gifts that are final,

that have no price to pay except that you

leave yourself leaning, tied and planted only

to this holy dreamscape liberation.

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Copyright © 2017 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “GloMag” March 2017

http://online.fliphtml5.com/gkih/vhtz/

 

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Child Unconceived

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Child Unconceived

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Tomorrow may bring you nearer

  to me, but then it may cause

              grief that no instinct nor love could

                          rectify.

If I cannot form the dustgrain of your life

  in my womb, cannot carry

              your limbs within my belly proud

                          and drench my veins

with our combined blood –

(you and I merged for a time, guiltless,

  expressing the earthy essence of God

              with each our individual heartbeats),

                          then be damned my entrails

and this longing

              that drives my impatient summer.

 

  When I see your face for the first time,

              and your father and I behold your

                          living smile, be sure

there will be a depth of welcome

  that no hardship could turn cold

              nor ever diminish.

 

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Copyright © 1998 by Allison Grayhurst

3002

Our Children Are Orchards

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

 

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First published in “Foxglove Journal” March 2017

https://foxglovejournal.wordpress.com/2017/03/16/child-unconceived-allison-grayhurst/

 

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You can listen to this poem by clicking below:

 

hope-inhaled-and/

“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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Review of The Longing To Be: 

“The contents of Allison Grayhurst’s book The Longing To Be are both personal and universal and are described in such thematic and golden terms that one can see that a lot of thought has gone into each line. The poems are written mostly in free verse throughout, with both rhythm and soul weaved into them. For some poems, the layout seems experimental, and there is definitely a playfulness in the way that the words and verses fall onto the page. Others do conform to a “norm”, whatever that is. All are dramatic and thoughtful. These are layered poems with new horizons presented to the reader in every re-read. The effect is to keep things fresh with poems that constantly surprise in spite, and because of, the number of times being read. I thoroughly recommend The Longing To Be as a poetry book to study carefully and cherish far into the future,” poet Brian Shirra.

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Over The Top

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Over The Top

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The pounding, the lashing out

like a snake’s tongue lashes out, like a snake

whose prey always ducks down

at exactly the right time.

The venom is lost

but yet is absorbed

as the caterpillar runs down

the leg of the table, and as the angels

hold someone at the moment of

their last singing, singing of the pounding,

singing of the healthy and the unhealthy deep,

singing that there is only the perfect shape or

the fall into restless sleep.

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Copyright © 2008 by Allison Grayhurst

3015

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “1947, a literary journal”, March 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.

Reviews of ‘The Many Lights of Eden’:

“’The Many Lights of Eden’ is a journey: a journey of the heart through youth, anguish, struggle, spiritual awakening, grief, death, love, loss, guilt, struggle, despair, hope, surrender, God, sensuality, imperfection, motherhood, aging, the vanquishing of the devil, indeed, many devils, the inevitable fall from perfection and the casting off of old wineskins for a new one. Perhaps speaking of this book as a chronicle of spiritual maturing would be more accurate, the realization that there is spirituality within imperfection and that handmade temples cannot hope to compete with the spiritual temples within each of us. ‘The Many Lights of Eden’ is a diamond. It is a beautiful collection of insights. Allison Grayhurst’s thoughts and writings are a deep well. Drink from it, for the water is clear and crisp. This collection is a MUST-READ,” Eric M. Vogt, author of Letters to Lara and Paths and Pools to Ponder. 

 “I have been slow at responding to reviews for Allison Grayhurst due to summer’s busy days, however she brings life to each poem, heart to the images and everyone should have a collection of Grayhurst Poetry,” Ann Johnson-Murphree, poet.

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Lost members of my tribe

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Lost members of my tribe

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            Four were sheltered here

in the purity of spring, and the ocean all around

with its intelligent octopi, its mystical porpoises

and whales of many sizes.

            One of you, eternally young, small,

soft and perfectly fragile, loving freely as a babe

sure of her mother’s arms.

            The other, heavy, carrying around an irritation

that howled at everyone it saw. But I could see

the innocence painted in her eyes.

I could bless her conflict

and love her just the same.

            Number three was fire, sweet as a not-too-hot sun,

warming the field with his golden colour and forthright

demands, needing to love and be loved.

            The fourth was king, ancient as the night sky.

He knew the age of every tree, the faint altering stirrings

of life’s first conception. He was gentle, autonomous, giving,

with a mind that spoke in pictures.

            Now they have all left for heavenly territory.

Their energies stay, and sometimes I still see them

in the hallway, on beds.

I still feel each close to my touch and I know we were blessed

to have walked so many years, needing one another, blessed

and forever remaining an essential piece

of each other’s cores.

 

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Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst

3017

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

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First published in “AWS Publishing” March 2017

http://awspublishing.com/poetry/

http://awspublishing.com/poetry/348/lost-members-of-my-tribe/

.

.

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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