Spider on the ceiling,
I wonder how you’re feeling,
is the world
down-side up for you,
and tell me are you reeling?
© Spider 22.04.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
A cartoon drawing of a spider. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Spider
22 Monday Apr 2013
Category Archives: Humour
Fuddle
17 Wednesday Apr 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, humour, muse, poems, poetry, UK poet, writing, Yorkshire poet
I’m in a tangle
I’m in a muddle
I have two poems
mixed up in a fuddle
I cannot part them
I try but they don’t
I tease and I prune
they simply just won’t
I’ve tried all that I can
I admit that alas
they’re conjoined forever
they’re really stuck fast
© Fuddle 17.04.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
kittentastic (Photo credit: Alicakes*)
Calculating Cuddles
05 Friday Apr 2013
Posted in Daily life, Humour, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, humour, love, mathematical equations, maths, napowrimo, poetry, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
Cuddling you,
is like a mathematical equation.
All elbows and angles,
spoonerisms and square brackets.
Just as a
parent he sis-
te-math-ically
square routes,
and exponentially
asterisks the mattress,
to become algebra
beyond my comprehension;
yet squared and integrated,
your obtuse, hypotenuse,
is surely a sine
that we can tessellate,
calculate and co-ordinate,
affirmative action,
and solve
an alternative angle,
between curves.
The geometry of
cardinal em-braces,
satisfies the
conjugated,
conjugal,
bed.
© Calculating Cuddles 05.04.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
The Grand Challenge Equations: San Diego Supercomputer Center (Photo credit: dullhunk)
Backpack Buddha
03 Wednesday Apr 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddha, Dharma, meditation, poetry, rupa, teaching, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
I have the Buddha on my back,
he’s quite an affable chap,
with a candle and a cloth,
and a purpose,
I set off…
© Backpack Buddha 03.04.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
The Irresponsible Lotus
03 Sunday Mar 2013
Posted in Buddhism, Deep Stuff!, Humour, Nature, Poetry, Worldly Winds
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddhism, development, habits, lotus, mud, poetry, rebirth, spiritual death, spiritual growth, spiritual rebirth, stuck, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
The irresponsible lotus,
refused to flourish or bloom,
stuck his head
right in the mud,
and waited,
for monsoon.
He wallowed and protested,
Ostrich like – he did!
Regressed, decayed, and festered,
in ignorance he hid.
‘til one day came the sunshine,
of which he couldn’t ignore,
it beamed on him,
and warmed him,
and coaxed him from the floor.
He lifted up his stubborn head,
with squinting dusty eyes,
he blinked and stretched,
and relished it,
he felt so quite alive!
The rays of warm compassion,
a catalyst did start,
the more he grew,
the more he knew,
this was meant to be.
He blossomed and he opened,
his waxy tight bud heart,
he raised his head,
toward the sky,
and it set himself apart.
No longer dwelling,
in the mud,
irresponsibly -
the sun shone strong,
and so did he,
for all around to see.
His radiance and his beauty,
apparent majesty,
admired by all who saw him,
brought calm and clarity.
The moral of this story,
may be plain to all,
of the irresponsible lotus,
who answered nature’s call.
Please never judge a lotus,
that may be stuck in mud,
it just needs a little sunshine,
to coax open,
its heart bud.
© The Irresponsible Lotus 03.03.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Trivandrum, India (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The i’s and Ears
02 Saturday Mar 2013
Posted in Daily life, Humour, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, humour, iphone, ipod, poetry, trains, travel, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
I’m at the station,
feeling impatient,
wanting to get on my way.
Announcement says,
there’s been delays,
engineering works causing affray.
The platform’s changed,
I’m turning deranged,
as I sprint to platform eight.
I just catch my train,
(these connections a pain)
we finally get on our way.
A seat on my own,
I pull out my tome,
absorbed in a classic romance.
‘til the people alight,
someone sits by my side,
with ipod and ears plugged in.
I huff and I puff,
at the jangly stuff,
a tinny annoying old din.
Mr Darcy must wait,
as distracted, I hate
to gaze through the window instead.
I seethe and I fume,
unintelligible tunes,
wishing their batteries were dead!
© The i’s and Ears 02.03.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Most Humorous, Senior Superlatives, Fayetteville High School, 1960 (Photo credit: North Carolina Digital Heritage Center)
Bless You!!
27 Sunday Jan 2013
Posted in Childhood Memories, Daily life, Humour, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, childhood, Easter, Easter eggs, humour, memories, poetry, socks, tissues
As you read my little poem,
dear reader, please remember,
it was a different time back then,
when things were so much simpler.
‘Twas 70’s eve of Easter Day,
when eggs and gifts await,
I was a quirky child of five,
excitement ever great!
I waited till my folks slept sound,
and all about was still,
I crept out from my toasty bed,
anticipated thrill.
Downstairs I sneaked, to take a peek,
at all my eggy plunder,
a gift I found, with eyes so wide,
I punched the air with wonder!
The gift was small and bright snow white,
soft as the purest dove,
A pack of tissues of my own!
‘twas what I’d ever dreamed of.
You see dear reader, ‘twas like this,
my ma a strict disciplinarian,
only hankies were allowed,
to her – tissues, unsanitarian.
I went to bed on such a high,
‘twas hard to fall asleep,
I never did anticipate,
how much I’d sob and weep.
I dreamed a dream of Grannies house,
where tissues flowed asunder,
pastel delights plucked from the box,
an endless cause of wonder.
Eater day soon came – at last,
I rushed to my delight,
Alas no tissues waited there,
just SOCKS, white and knee height.
I wept and cried, made such a fuss,
my ma was most perplexed,
she clipped my ear, and scolded me,
I was sent to bed quite vexed.
© Bless You 27.01.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Easter Chicks on a Boat (Photo credit: nickstone333)
Rainbow Fin
10 Thursday Jan 2013
Posted in Daily life, Humour, Loss, Love, Poetry
I had a fish called Rainbow,
the ugliest you’ve seen,
he was almost transparent,
showing heart, and spine, and spleen.
He seemed to live forever,
a hoopla prize, most fair,
he grew quite big and chunky,
and swam without a care.
He wasn’t a rare beauty,
neither rainbow, nor a jewel,
but my little girl’s heart loved him,
he was strange, and bold, and cool!
He swam around in circles,
gliding through his castle scene,
and he didn’t seem to mind much,
when neglect turned his bowl green.
Then, one day, to my distraught cries,
and my childhood at an end,
I found him quite lopsided,
my poorly rainbow friend.
He’d lasted ‘til his teen years,
it was a sad old day,
when I said a few old holy words,
and flushed him clean away.
Goodbye! my quirky rainbow friend,
I loved you ‘til the last,
‘tis fondly I remember thee,
you remind me of my past.
© Rainbow Fin 10.01.2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
fish bowl (Photo credit: Dean McCoy Photography)
The Morning After
30 Sunday Dec 2012
Posted in Daily life, Humour, Poetry
My pillow is lumpy,
my bed is a mess,
I cannot sleep,
at my own behest.
One sherry too many,
the room spins around,
I want to get off now,
and worship the ground!
The sheets are all clammy,
the air is so close,
as I wriggle and squiggle,
with cramp in my toes.
As I take a deep breath,
just one course I can see,
to admit my defeat,
and make a strong pot of tea!
© The Morning After 30.12.12
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
A teacup on a saucer. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
That Sinking Feeling
29 Thursday Nov 2012
How could you not realise?
Did you not think?
…that I would not notice,
we’re starting to sink.
Atmosphere’s electric,
could cut with a knife;
a lightning conductor,
where lightning strikes twice.
Our words are so crossed,
it’s a tangled up mess,
there’s really no hope,
we’re doomed! (More or less.)
So it’s pistols at dawn,
as we’re matched in a duel,
with our rapiers drawn,
adding fire to our fuel.
I know it’s no contest,
this match that we’re in;
like hell will you beat me,
I’m determined to win!
© That Sinking Feeling 29.11.2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Lightning striking the Eiffel Tower (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
