End of an Era
Nothing comes that near,
only the anger, a pocket
full of pyrite
and the balancing act of last year’s
Nothing scratches the bone,
no friendship sends me reeling,
no dream of what may be
is worth the dreaming.
But this place is kind,
it has comfort and love
like a full belly in winter time.
It takes my hand, kneading it into
a strange wonderment and meaningful
The books I used to read, the flavour
of solitude and the greater purpose has moved to
another corner, lives like a shadow scurrying around
my backyard. It will soon give me up, leave me
to bend to the will
of what I cannot control.
The Ways of Ingratitude
Scattered like rain
over the cathedral steps.
Years spent among the voices, outcast,
unhinged from the world.
The night is pale in my hands.
The fields are drenched with the quiet moans
of judgment. I live in the sewers
of diseased despair and broken expectations,
in the cold wilderness of reducing hatred,
clutching the key to release all my woes
by disparaging another.
Somewhere the light breaks, but I am stuck
with the television glow.
It is the happiness
of the sages I seek when
climbing out windows onto rooftops
or when walking my child to the park.
It is not the dry wilted lip I fear, but the
drifting from day to day, bloated on
tireless resentments and a rising despair.
The path is in my hands, is wide awake to my voice.
At night, I remember my father and rhythms that happened
so long ago. Summer is almost here
and the sand blows across the grass.
Today I am trying for a different approach to this nadir,
I am kicking up the floorplans and heading for new bait.
I see the red cardinal from my sliding glass door.
Faith is hard and sunrise never seems to arrive.
But it is a spell to be wooed into stagnation,
and it is better to face my inner gloom
than to sleep and keep the coin untossed.
the drake of dreams
and heed the head that
knows it is blind
to all the mysteries.
My hand is here, my
hand to follow. I love your
cleft chin and your strange blue eyes.
I love your laughter at night.
Live like no other has lived.
For you are more than a kaleidoscope,
more than six months of hope and happy endings.
Thank you for arriving, for changing my view forever.
I watch your sleeping face
and feel a thousand souls merge behind your
soft skin. Every day is your birthday, when a new
part of you is revealed like the most beautiful of wonders.
Play with the ropes of many.
I am here, and will always be
yours in love.
Of Manna and God
To let go of the addiction
eating away at my cupboards.
To sing tra-la-la in the face
of fate and fall at the feet
of the unknown is what
my blood calls for, is the
rock I must throw and is the
river to sink it in.
To bury the book in the cellar,
to take my number off the list
and crack a nut on the hardwood floor
is my chance for renewal,
is my stage of internal strife, where
two voices argue of opposing faiths,
and all the while my house is burning.
Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. Three of her poems have been nominated for Sundress Publications “Best of the Net” 2015, and she has over 850 poems published in more than 380 international journals and anthologies. Her book Somewhere Falling was published by Beach Holme Publishers, a Porcepic Book, in Vancouver in 1995. Since then she has published twelve other books of poetry and seven collections with Edge Unlimited Publishing. Prior to the publication of Somewhere Falling she had a poetry book published, Common Dream, and four chapbooks published by The Plowman. Her poetry chapbook The River is Blind was published by Ottawa publisher above/ground press December 2012. In 2014 her chapbook Surrogate Dharma was published by Kind of a Hurricane Press, Barometric Pressures Author Series. In 2015, her book No Raft — No Ocean was published by Scars Publications. More recently, her book Make the Wind was published in 2016 by Scars Publications. As well, her book Trial and Witness — selected poems, was published in 2016 by Creative Talents Unleashed (CTU Publishing Group). She is a vegan. She lives in Toronto with her family. She also sculpts, working with clay.