Animal Sanctuary – the song and the poem

 

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

 

The Poem:

 

Animal Sanctuary

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He turns his hawk head

to view the shells of turtles streaking

the still-shroud of water in tanks

as blue as sky.

 

He lifts a leg and talons tensed,

pivots to defend against an enclosing shadow.

 

With whitish eyes and an impossible urge

to fly, he hops along his man-made perch toward

the cages where squirrels leap

from metal to wood, scattering like leaves

in unpredictable flurry.

 

He listens to the ducks’ lipless sounds.

 

Spring, he will never experience again, nor know

the scent of a pent-up life released like

sunflowers blooming, or the feel of the moon,

colder but more comforting than being touched.

 

He is without time or tribe,

and like fire, he haunts

by just being.

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Copyright © 1998 by Allison Grayhurst

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First published in “UC Review”, 1996/1997

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Beyond The Grave – the song and the poem

 

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

 

The Poem:

 

Beyond The Grave

If all the seeds fell like blood

or blood like seeds into

the ravenous earth and time

was a wagging tail in the dark

then I would know that death would come

by any reason and be a blessing

all on its own. But as it is, death is

the hollow spot of the living – some with

grief and others with fear, and me myself,

it is memory that unbuttons the flesh of my chest

to leave me poked and burning.

It is the hill I climb and stumble

down its rocky incline whenever I return

if only once a day

to meet death’s stalking eyes.

It is not my heart that fails me,

but the things outside

like the shadow on the neighbours’ window

and the frightening madness of so many strangers.

It is here and there like an insect

on my wall, like the fatherly love

I’ll never find again in another’s eyes,

but is with me in the coming autumn air,

and in the quietude of these joy-filled days.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011   

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Veil – Journal of Darker Musings”

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Girl – the song and the poem

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

 

The Poem:

 

Girl

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Under the willow tree a girl

was standing, lonely with

the worst of nights ahead.

They said

drink from the tarpit waters and swallow

the oysters that lost their shells.

She saw the drug the wind made

though she did not let it shift her steadfast heart.

Everywhere the notion stood

that fighting back is better than

the tender wave, better than

empathy and believing in affection.

The willow leaves have gone brown and the girl has moved

beside a cliff. She dances as though she

could not fall. And though they gasp to pity

her poor body against rocks and ridges,

she continues to move like a beautiful sound,

sure of the hand that guides her.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

3011     

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Out of Our”, 2012

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River – the song and the poem

 

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

 

The Poem:

 

.

River

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I will run my breath across your eyelids,

go to you, trace the edges of your hands,

finding infinity inside your torment. I will

drift into you like wind and you will not mind

my lips like a concentrated shadow on your skin,

darkening but leaving no weight. You will let me

be inside your picture, a background to your lyrics,

softly at first, I will heal the red in the whites of your eyes.

I will release my wardrobe for you and you will be the mania

that I climb through to reach tranquility. I will

cup your flesh and stretch you through this intimacy because

I own you as you own me and it is not a bad thing, not

blasphemy or anything

to fear. It is your hands, mine – these

poignant burial grounds that have been excavated,

these days of standing close, depending upon the ease

of our mutual exposure. I will speak in your ear and you

will step into my voice

like stepping into a river.

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Copyright © 2011 by Allison Grayhurst

3021 img069

Currents - pastlife poems cover 4 

 

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “InnerChildPress” 2012

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Seamless – the song and the poem

 

 

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

 

The Poem:

 

 

Seamless      

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    Raincoats and rainy seasons are behind us now.

I picked up a feather.

You took it from me and now it is yours. And just like that,

rich as the coral reef waters, we were initiated into

a lower layer.

    Intensity is a button. It is concentration – one part,

one of your parts unrelentingly explored

while ignoring other

distracting sensations. It is the thick blood

raking of thighs against our lesser faith.

    Fears of the future put aside and left to their weeping.

Shoulders become secrets receiving

probing pressure-point intrusions.

Like a primeval working of strings,

through this communication, we see

the courage of our history rise, become an advancing truth,

and our pores

grow and sparkle like thousands of tiny sun-drenched ants

pooling together to parallel a single purpose.

    We know ‘just survival’ is tyranny.

What we seek is not movement

purely for the sake of employment, but to create canvases

of vigorous struggles – ones that can only be cemented

in unison.

    Our bodies have abandoned their blood-lines.

We are touching every crease

and tense design with undiluted intention –

first blotting out words, then delectable conversations.

We rejoice in the grand dramatics of our compatibility,

equally committed to corporeal immersion.

    The past culminates in this single outpouring. It is

a privileged evolution. It is months of misfortune

exterminated by the exertion of our mouths:

    Strange rhythms are risked, foreheads pressed,

giving way

to beautiful unadulterated disclosure.

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Copyright © 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

3021 img069  

 

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “New Binary Press Anthology”, 2012

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elegy of this day being – the song and the poem

 

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

The Poem:

 

elegy of this day being

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At the throat, brushed green like tile I shine.

The devil says “hum-drum”

as the eel struggles, futile like a wagging tail.

So many broken, hating with the hardness of crocodiles

and ants, pulling along their dead,

to consume, knowing nothing of sorrow or forgiveness.

All night I sit with my naked thighs

on the carpet, red from the heat.

What point could there possibly be

to all this pain, the death

of others, the sickness that swarms in mid-air?

Hurricanes hit the graveyards.

A gull tilts on a telephone wire. I wish to bid goodbye.

I wish for ice-cream cones in my fridge,

a handful of poppies to give some child,

any child, I meet.

I see dead eyes in my dream,

glossed with mucous and unbearable vacancy.

How do I serve when the world is so cold?

The humpbacks know this, the midgets

and also the centipedes.

I want to hide in rooms where

infants are sleeping or salamanders nurse their young.

The darkness is in me. The ground deceives me,

changes colours as I go.

Let us go now, my nightmares

and I, go under the light, go until

our heart’s blood is free-falling, exposed.

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Copyright © 1998 by Allison Grayhurst

3002  

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in the summer 2012 issue of “Parabola” called Alone & Together

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Now I am Two — the song and the poem

“This song “Now I am Two” speaks to the dedication intimacy asks and the deep subtle bond that follows… River is now available on iTunes and Amazon, and of course on Bandcamp. Bandcamp downloads come with a bonus,” Diane Barbarash

 

 

River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/

https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0766X9LDJ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507310524&sr=8-1&keywords=diane+barbarash

 

The Poem:

 

Now I am Two

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It is this way, togetherness:

A covenant with tenderness and speaking thoughts

only glimpsed.

The snow falls like rain as the afternoon moves

without time, our hands pressed as one,

lips and then, something better. Always

miraculous, unexpected, awakening. Always

us, vanishing and then re-emerging with these things

of harmony and friction engulfing our scent and path. Soon,

the tiger lilies will bloom and being just us will be made difficult

with the children gathered in our arms. But this ‘difficult’ is

whole and adds to our liberation – making coffee, laughing

at things shared and only ours.

It is what was prayed for, what years and hardship has not

diluted, but has fused into an unbreakable bond – us –

the summoning of all our parts – ancient, immediate

so that even when death comes or fate and terrible sobbing,

neither of us will ever be again

without the other

alone.

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Copyright © 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

3021 img069   

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

 

First published in “Anchor & Plume: Kindred, Issue 5, Nest”, 2014

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