Finding the Silent Ones


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I will scour the darkest forest

and glide through mango groves

searching for the silent ones

who travel the same road


I will fight the fiercest oceans

and plunge to deepest depths

searching for the silent ones

who sing with silent breath


I will trek across the deserts

leaving no grain of sand unturned

searching for the silent ones

for whom my heart doeth yearn


I will scale the highest mountain

and dwell within dark caves

searching for the silent ones

whom I hope to find some day


I will raft the rabid rapids

and abseil from peak to floor

searching for the silent ones

whom they say exist no more


I will comb the sun-kissed beaches

and skim the silvery surf

searching for the silent ones

rumoured to roam this earth


I will search the church and chapels

and cathedral spires and tombs

searching for the silent ones

whom dwell in catacombs


I will tiptoe to the shrine room

and bow with folded hands

and here I’ll find the silent ones

my kith, my kin, my clan.


© Finding the Silent Ones  16.06.2014

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Photo Credit :  Arabiian


The Hula-Hoop of Hindrance


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I saw it in the playground,

when I was only three,

the hula-hoop of hindrance,

resting by a tree.


It was pretty, pink, and sparkly,

with unicorns and glitter,

it even had, ‘go faster’ stripes,

so I could hula quicker.


I put it ‘round my tiny waist,

and hula’d round the yard,

little did I realise,

that it would make life hard.


I learned to love my hula-hoop,

though I was only four,

when I went to bed at night,

I’d leave it by the door.


I realised when I was five

(and also at aged six)

that I had been quite naïve

my hula habit fixed


This went on – my dearest friends,

throughout my adult life,

attachment to my hula-hoop,

caused me so much strife.


When cooking in the kitchen,

and trying to eat my dinner,

my hula hoop got in the way,

and I just grew much thinner.


and when I met my boyfriend,

I’d hula-hoop for joy,

but holding hands whilst hula-ing,

well… the romance is destroyed.


When I went upon retreat,

there was no problem there;

for there were many hula hoops,

that we could swap and share!


Then,  Maitripala gave a talk,

about the hula habit,

if we can see the gateway….

the freedom’s there, so grab it!!


One day I hope my hula-hoop,

will rest against that tree,

and if you choose to have a go,

it’s going, gratis, free!!


© The Hula-Hoop of Hindrance 17.06.2014

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Photo Credit: Photo By Fotolia/Stockshoppe


True Grit Poetry Cycle 2014


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We had a fabulous day despite the cold and rain. This is part of the True Grit Poetry Cycle, collaborative poetry to celebrate and welcome Le Tour Yorkshire – Grand Depart 2014.

I am the 6th poet if you were wondering ;)

Where’s the Arts Council cash going in Yorkshire? A couple of tables

Originally posted on the leeds citizen:

A couple of quick tables based on today’s announcement about which organisations are getting what cash from Arts Council England (ACE) from 2015-18.

They’re what are known as the National Portfolio organisations. Over the three years ACE will be spending just over £1bn on them – around £100m of it in Yorkshire.

Here’s a breakdown of where the cash is going in the Yorkshire region by local authority.


And here’s a little table showing how much of the total cash for the Yorkshire region (48.7%) is snaffled by the top four big Leeds arts organisations.


You can draw your own conclusions from the data, but here’s one: Opera North gets more funding than all the organisations in Sheffield, York, Bradford, Hull, Kirklees, Doncaster and Barnsley combined.

You can download the data here.

View original

Nine Years


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And as she lay dying

I sat by the church,

the choir were singing

for peace on this earth.


They called to their God

in heaven above,

they prayed for redemption

forgiveness and love.


The grave yard was ancient

full of sinners and saints,

lichens and moss

made the epitaphs feint.


God promised you heaven

where the angels dwell,

and I am alone now

you’ve left me in hell.


© Nine Years 28.06.2014

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Top Ten


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It’s that time of year and yet again I am jaunting off on retreat for a fortnight. I won’t be back until 27th June. So I thought I would leave you with my Top Ten most liked poems as chosen by you! But… then I looked, and there were some real crackers in positions 11 to 15 – so I thought I’d cheat and include those too! I hope you enjoy reading them and I will return soon, hopefully with some new gems :)

Click on the title to take you to the original poem :) Enjoy!!

1. Soldier On 

2. The Cat Sat On The Mat

3. Carole Withany

4. Tipping Sheep (the right way)

5. First Love

6. Silhouettes and Soliloquies

7. WoMan Flu

8. Thistledown

9. Mum

10. Calculating Cuddles

11. Murmuration

12. Sybarites

13. Black Rose

14. Child Within

15. Big Pants

Photo Credit :

Death of a Minor


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I remember the daily grind through the Peaks;

from Hillsborough to hospice.

Morphine induced twilight hours,

brittle brown heather hair,

cascading watery cataracts,

crashing, weeping, winding.


I know each bend like the veins in my hand;

the outcrops and falling rocks.

Spray from the lorries,

thrown up, muddy teardrops,

sliding down the windscreen,

breaking limits, breaking hearts.


This is the road to hell.


© Death of a Minor 24.05.2014

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm


Photo credit : photo credit: <a href=””>Romeo66</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;


Ode to my Sons


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The toilet is a clever thing

with a lid, most like a door;

so please don’t wee upon the seat

or pee upon the floor!


Microwave or cooker,

it really matters not,

this magical flamboyance

will make your meals get hot.


Dishwashers are quite practical,

they clean pots ’til they gleam.

No clever sleight or trick to it,

just put the damn things in!


Crockery, pots and cutlery,

are aids to keep you fed,

they aren’t for decoration,

don’t put them under your bed!


Food is quite sensational,

groovy in every way;

but when I go out shopping

don’t eat it in a day.


Clothes are sneaky demons,

they hide and split and breed,

but when they are all dirty

please put them in the machine.


Doors really are quite functional

they keep out draft and cold

and if you are from Derbyshire,

we say * ‘put wood in t’hole!’


The dog is cute, the dog is cool,

on this I must agree;

get of your arse, once in a while,

and take him for a wee.


I am your Mum – pink is my colour,

pink means it is MY stuff,

from ipod, pens to scarf and socks,

just keep your damn hands off!


*Put wood in t’hole (put the wood in the hole) Derbyshire saying meaning – shut the door!!!


© Ode to my Sons 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm


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