Shroud The Moon

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Shroud The Moon

I see your eyes

float like balloons

through the giant storm.

I cradle your blanket. I cry

on the carpet like a child,

all in privacy, between rooms

& walls. All for the farewell too

real to speak.

The world will not compensate,

will not hold the hope to get out

of this hell for long.

It will empty my pockets of

your key – make every minute

a dangerous bite.

There is a cold bird screaming down

our chimney. There are rats

under the fridge. The rain echoes like

a mountain cry. You will not

love me like I need. You will not & I will not

 

be brave.

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Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

For Every Rain Cover 5

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Communicators League” June 2017

  

 

Three poems | by Allison Grayhurst

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Somewhere Falling has a richness of imagery and an intensity of emotion rare in contemporary poetry. Drawn in sharp outlines of light and darkness, and rich shades of colour, with a deep sense of loss and longing and the possibility of salvation, this is an unusual book by a gifted young poet. Grayhurst’s voice is one to which we should continue to pay attention.” — Maggie Helwig, author of Apocalypse Jazz and Eating Glass.

“Responsibility and passion don’t often go together, especially in the work of a young poet. Allison Grayhurst combines them in audacious ways. Somewhere Falling is a grave, yet sensuous book.” – Mark Abley, author of Glasburyon and Blue Sand, Blue Moon.

“Biting into the clouds and bones of desire and devotion, love and grief, Allison Grayhurst basks the reader, with breathtaking eloquence, in an elixir of words. Like lace, the elegance is revealed by what isn’t said. This is stunning poetry.” – Angela Hryniuk, author of no visual scars.

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Guardian

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Guardian

(For Beeper)

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Dog-eyes like a morning

infused

with warmth.

 

I dream of sending you

silhouettes wedged

from the mountain,

 

where we would go

flooded with lyric & hazy light.

By the campfire furnace,

 

chasing the breeze through

the haunted wood. And then,

by the river, by daylight,

 

your tongue outstretched to cup bee.

Your oversized ebony head gliding through

the water like a dolphin’s.

 

Under the bridge, on the railroad tracks,

your muscles moved erecting

monuments of innocence and incomparable strength.

 

Past the fence, past

my sight, releasing sounds of excitement, sounds

of a simple, language bark,

 

as you ran

thunderous & dark

as departure

often is.

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Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

3018img182

For Every Rain Cover 5

Our Children Are Orchards

Currents - pastlife poems cover 4

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Communicators League” June 2017

  

 

Three poems | by Allison Grayhurst

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

Somewhere Falling has a richness of imagery and an intensity of emotion rare in contemporary poetry. Drawn in sharp outlines of light and darkness, and rich shades of colour, with a deep sense of loss and longing and the possibility of salvation, this is an unusual book by a gifted young poet. Grayhurst’s voice is one to which we should continue to pay attention.” — Maggie Helwig, author of Apocalypse Jazz and Eating Glass.

“Responsibility and passion don’t often go together, especially in the work of a young poet. Allison Grayhurst combines them in audacious ways. Somewhere Falling is a grave, yet sensuous book.” – Mark Abley, author of Glasburyon and Blue Sand, Blue Moon.

“Biting into the clouds and bones of desire and devotion, love and grief, Allison Grayhurst basks the reader, with breathtaking eloquence, in an elixir of words. Like lace, the elegance is revealed by what isn’t said. This is stunning poetry.” – Angela Hryniuk, author of no visual scars.

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Who?

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Who?

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Who hides the shape of the sun,

sleeping in fear with ribs more

than broken? The war, the half-heaven

half-hell syndrome of the spiraling bird,

spiraling downward

in an array of glorious plumage.

Who cries as beautiful as a song,

longing for the uncommon, a lamp

of soulmate proportion? Whose cry will be heard,

received, altered like fire is altered

by water and water is altered by fire – the old burn

extinguished, transformed into something light,

capable of rising upward, spreading

across the sky? When will God give us air,

take our hands and run with us? God, we are waiting for you

to knock on our door, we are anticipating your footsteps.

Show us something of destiny. There is more here

than what is whole.

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Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst

3017

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “1947 a literary journal” June 2017

http://1947journal.tumblr.com/post/162143260309/who-by-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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Another Station

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Another Station

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I raced to the perimeter,

stopping at the dot and

found the sun half-gone

like a kiss that never was.

I touched the tree and the tree

did not know I was there.

I peeled the skin from my fingers

to feel a deeper sensation.

The line and the ledge and the no-space in-between.

The devil is bitter and hard. I spoke to the devil

and held time with his eyes. But breaking free,

leaping from the circle – these aspirations

are growing up, taking long and slow breaths,

all the while, becoming

more formidable.

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Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst

3010

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Bluepepper” June 2017

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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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Looking In

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Looking In

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How easy to feel the weight

of choice, mutually

with the burden of circumstance.

Childhood ripens then wilts,

and in your unguarded hands, only

shades of poverty-stricken

summers remain; enormous & unavoidable.

 

What is real is not always the same as

what is eternal, yet those days,

when overabundant with love,

reappear, and strangely, make a difference.

 

You hold a torch, moving urgently through aqueducts

towards icy light. When you reach

the blue loneliness of abstraction, secretly

you are sure

the fullness of truth has rushed away

from you; and that this knowledge

too, is unusable.

 

You flourish beside the lightheaded angels. You carve

in stone, in vain

their god-affirming songs. You stand

outside, alarmed. You disappear.

 

Time hangs in your thoughts like an imaginary lover.

You look in the mirror and see

a great void, a perfect smile . . . and see

there is still so much left

to learn.

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Copyright © 1991 by Allison Grayhurst

img063

For Every Rain Cover 5

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Synchronized Chaos” July 2017

http://synchchaos.com/?p=13230

http://synchchaos.com/?p=13218

 

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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“Grayhurst’s rapturous outpouring of imagery makes her poems easily enjoyable … Like a sear the poet seeks to fathom sensual and spiritual experience through the images of a dream.” Canadian Literature

 “Allison Grayhurst’s Common Dream is a massive book by a talented and enthusiastic young writer, with a feel for descriptive, meaningful verse. Philosophical and very deep,” Paul Rance, editor of Eastern Rainbow, U.K.,  spring 1993.

“Her poems read like the journal entries of a mystic – perhaps that what they are. They are abstract and vivid, like a dreamy manifestation of soul. This is the best way, in prose, one can describe the music which is … the poetry of Allison Grayhurst,” Blaise Wigglesworth Oh! Magazine

“Rich images and complex, shifting metaphors drive Allison Grayhurst’s poems. She focuses on sexual love and interior landscapes, widening to include the heart, eternity and all.”  Next Exit

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Holding Hands

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Holding Hands

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Because I know you and the glow

of your many lives’ rhythms

behind your big heart concealed, revealed

beautiful in its purity . . . because you are part

of my inner tribe – a specimen

of beauty and undefined rich sentiment –

I will never judge your secret vulnerability

or soil your openness with sarcasm,

but instead I will promise you comfort,

a beach of sunlight and solitude –

a mother’s love where God takes part.

In spite of the cold kennel

cruelty out there, you will get through –

as one strong in joy, as one wedded

to charm and the virtue of forgiveness, sleeping

without nightmares.

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Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst

3017

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

Published in “Synchronized Chaos” July 2017

http://synchchaos.com/?p=13230

http://synchchaos.com/?p=13218

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Published in “AWS Publishing” June 2017

http://www.awspublishing.com/poetry/404/holding-hands/

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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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The oceans spill into a cup.

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The oceans spill into a cup.

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I drink from that cup and approach

the gathering of ages and

salty burial grounds.

For me, I remember a time before friendship –

I held anguish, frustration,

anticipating the arrival of my tribe.

I waited for one who knew the same meaning I did

of sacred sexuality, death and grace.

The landscape was huge, but my people are now complete.

Somehow we have gathered. Over the years,

we’ve erected pillars

on neighbouring streets to see if others would recognize

our colours. Some came near, joined, but after a while,

they left and situated themselves

on the opposite side of the theatre.

Patterns increase. Wounds are given priority over love.

Fear becomes a discipline

and loyalty to another merges with the sickness of self-denial.

The oceans spill. But there are certain things

I will not drink. I was born for a different music.

Love will win out. God is greater than the world

and all the people

world-bound, world-committed.

There will be arrival, the fruit of permanence.

Yearnings will be eased

and my tribe will see, finally rejoice in

its expanding form.

.

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Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst

3017

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

First published in “Synchronized Chaos” July 2017

http://synchchaos.com/?p=13230

http://synchchaos.com/?p=13218

.

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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