Surrogate Dharma

 

Surrogate Dharma

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I didn’t think I would get lost

or be chained to a contractual victory.

I thought a grain would grow,

become a solid garden. Fires would come, then

firefighters. I would be testifying about

the worth of what survived.

     That is not what happened. I fell prey

to the propaganda of affirmations,

to the volume of control I could contain.

My dream dropped out of me

like a miscarriage. I hoped I could forget:

Tie my shoes, zip up a coat

and kiss the shelter I have. Bridges here and there –

they are not mine to travel.

Vinegar keeps getting injected into my bones,

replacing the marrow with

its potent clarity. Do you see? I am getting older.

It will be over

and I have to be able to say I served well.

My mouth opens and folds like a fledgling wing.

People pass – each one a violin note, a digit, a reluctant

panting pitch. Conversations are ash.

I don’t like living in these elements, my neck

stretched up into the dense middle

of a monsoon. Let me climb,

dragging this dead beast behind me.

Let me live where my father went to school,

on a Himalayan peak.

I am not a petal. My courage is fickle, it fortifies or fades,

dependent each day on mutual obligatory infatuation.

     I can’t keep pretending:

The sun is strong. The night is strong. I am not stronger.

     I am in this hovel with my lamp, tasting metal

of varying textures –

rusted, gold, and other star-erupted symbols –

greeting obscurity, broken toenails

I can’t be bothered to trim. How many rooms, my God?

How much waiting and walking, and the fish?

I could be a fish. Make me

one of those – sliding about, weaving

with one full-body stroke

through a lush intricate terrain, mastering

a juicy undergrowth.

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Copyright © 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

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Surrogate Dharma chapbook 1

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Occulum” August 2017

Two Poems | by Allison Grayhurst

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First published in “SpinRock Reader Lit Forum” October 2015

SpinRock Reader Lit 1 SpinRock Reader Lit 2 SpinRock Reader Lit 3 SpinRock Reader Lit 4 SpinRock Reader Lit 5 SpinRock Reader Lit 6

http://spinrockreader.blogspot.ca/2015/10/surrogate-dharma-poem-by-allison.html

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First published in “Surrogate Dharma” e-chapbook Kind of a Hurricane Press

Surrogate Dharma chapbook 1

Surrogate Dharma chapbook 29Surrogate Dharma chapbook 2

 

http://barometricpressures.blogspot.ca/2014/10/surrogate-dharma-allison-grayhurst.html

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B-DuKJaq66CldFQtSDd1aTBncm8/view

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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A Great Wind Came Rushing

 

A Great Wind Came Rushing

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A great wind came rushing

and I said to the wind

“Bitter wind, stop before you carry me off.”

A great wind came rushing

and pulled me into the sky,

I travelled past wheat-fields

sailed under its furious reign.

I was broken into many pieces,

hit what the wind could not pass through

half-crazed with resistance

I fell to the ground

into worm-holes and the open mouths of laughing children.

I sunk into soil and dreamt of sprouting.

And the wind said to me,

“Do not perish with fright in these strange places,

close your eyes and wait for spring.”

 

Spring came,

I cracked and grew flesh

then like a vine I crawled out of that dark ground

and found the sun

soothed by heat and rain

I praised the earth with untainted joy

And I said to the earth,

“Sweet earth, allow me to walk.”

 

Gradually my limbs found movement

lips formed, eyes appeared, blue and wide

and I ran from land to land

celebrating life with each step.

I wore no clothes, carried no yard stick

found equal peace, equal rapture

with every new encounter.

 

A great wind came rushing

and I said to the wind

“Powerful wind, come carry me off

for I am still young and can bear the storm.”

Weightless with excitement

I joined its intense ride

gathered at the centre

halfdead with stillness

I gave myself up

lost the beating of my pulse, lost momentum

sunk low into my depths, immune to singing

And the voice said to me

“Do not despair with sorrow in this vacant hollow,

open your eyes and wait for love.”

 

Love came,

I expanded and felt communion

Like a clam I crept out of my isolation

and shone my pearl

 

Like a clam I closed back my shell

and hid in the safety of darkness.

 

And I said to my love,

“I am as incapable of loving as much as

everyone else is.” And my lover said back to me,

“So am I.”

 

A great wind came rushing

And I said to the wind,

“Great wind, be still

It is time now to learn.”

 

The great wind ceased.

 

My love and I walk hand in hand

on an unknown mission, swept away,

carried by each other, alone.

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Copyright © 1989 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Before the Dawn was published  in 1989 by The Plowman, written by Allison Grayhurst under the pseudonym of Jocelyn Kain.

Before the Dawnimg159

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Published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” May 2018

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.ca/2018/05/a-great-wind-came-rushing.html

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First published in “The Plowman: A Journal of International Poetry” 1989

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You can listen to this poem by clicking below:

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In and out of Spain

 

In and out of Spain

Spanish gardens, donkey trails.

Up steep dusty mountains we went, the four of us,

then we walked along rocky ocean cliffs, poking long sticks

in the waves. Whether it was an octopus’ play or anger,

tentacles wrapped tight around the tree-limb,

my brother screamed with excitement, pulled for a while

then let go.

 

Under surveillance at the corner store, we were

government-spied on

while buying popsicle rockets, licking,

lazily skipping back to the pool. I snuck

behind our apartment building

to feed dinner scraps to the desolate feline strays.

 

My mother bought us dyed pink chicks at Easter,

chick-feet running across a tile hard floor.

My father brought them back to the market

to face their inevitable doom.

 

Baby teeth, my brother’s and mine, tied to a string

tied to an open door.

 

Grandmother with her long

boney brown fingers, her fearful sins and Lucifer

always behind our backs, up elevators,

fueling the first of my many nightmares, and also

my morality.

 

A white Volkswagen. A massive pinkish sun,

making friends with Spanish boys breaking

bread beside Flamenco dancers.

 

There was a shark in the water.

I was lifted onto my father’s shoulders,

as he ran fast, past the menacing fin to the shore.

 

A diving board, lessons in breathing

and earning a swimmer’s endurance,

lessons in lifting my double-jointed arm to gain

front-crawl perfection.

 

Mother’s blonde and blonder hair.

Everynight parties.

 

Holland shoes

instead of stockings at Christmas.

Learning math at the kitchen table.

My father’s arms carrying me home

after a late night gathering of strange comic-book creatures,

laughing, making us little ones sit at the smaller table, ignoring

our just-out-of-toddlerhood need for adult attention.

 

Kindergarten handwriting at Bambi School,

Rice pudding everyday for lunch. Naranja-head,

children pointing, making fun because of my orange hair.

A pencil jabbed into my upper arm –

40 years later, the lead is still visible.

 

When we drove across the Denia boarder, into France,

then landed for months in London,

I could see my father’s memories coming back, his disappointments

overtaking. Maybe it was because it was in London

where his own father died, left India for, only to die

two weeks later in his wife’s arms,

leaving five children behind.

 

The first year back in Montreal,

my father started drinking heavily while my mother gave up,

got involved with her celebrity journalism and multitude of friends. 

I remember going to get breakfast, my father passed out

on the kitchen floor. I remember

in and out of Spain.

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Copyright © 2014 by Allison Grayhurst

Walkways cover 2

Make the Wind cover

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First published in “blackmail press issue 39”

blackmail press 1 Blackmail press Blackmail press In and out of Spain 1 Blackmail press In and out of Spain 2

 

http://www.blackmailpress.com/AG39.html

http://www.blackmailpress.com/Index39.html

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Published in “Think Pink, Issue 2” Pink.Girl.Ink. Press, May 2015

Pink Girl Ink 7Think Pink 1 Think Pink In and out of Spain 1 Think Pink In and out of Spain 2Think Pink In and out of Spain 3 Think Pink In and out of Spain 4Pink Girl Ink 1 Pink Girl Ink 5 Pink Girl Ink 6 Pink Girl Ink 4Pink Gilr Ink In and out of Spain Pink Gilr Ink In and out of Spain 2 Pink Gilr Ink In and out of Spain 3Pink Girl Ink 3Think Pink cover

http://pinkgirlink.blogspot.ca/2015/05/allison-grayhurst-poetry.html

http://www.lulu.com/shop/various-author-compilation/think-pink-issue-2/ebook/product-22154515.html

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Published in “Section 8 Magazine” June 2015

Section 8 Magzine 1Sectioon 8 Magazine in and out of spain 1 Sectioon 8 Magazine in and out of spain 2 Sectioon 8 Magazine in and out of spain 3 Sectioon 8 Magazine in and out of spain 4 Sectioon 8 Magazine in and out of spain 5 Sectioon 8 Magazine in and out of spain 6 Sectioon 8 Magazine in and out of spain 7section 8 - 6

http://www.section8magazine.com/sonnet-mondal/allison-grayhurst/

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Make the wind contentsMake the wind In an out of Spain 1 Make the wind In an out of Spain 2

Click to access Make_the_Wind20160404Allison_Grayhurst.pdf

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Scars full 3Scars full 1 Scars full 2Scars In and out of Spain 1 Scars In and out of Spain 2 Scars In and out of Spain 3 Scars In and out of Spain 4

http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers

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You can listen to the poems my clicking below:

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