Monthly Archives: April 2012

Bitter Sweet, Bitter Suite

23 Monday Apr 2012

Posted by in Deep Stuff!, Longing & Waiting, Poetry, Worldly Winds

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Elizabeth Siddal was the model for Sir John Ev...

Bitter sweet, bitter Suite,

you break my heart again.

I gently hold you in my arms

try not to cause you pain.

 

This sweetness to be with you,

to see your face once more;

to cherish just one last sweet kiss,

before death slams the door.

 

Oh to be with you right now

to talk and laugh again!

For focus, love and clarity –

the calm before the pain.

 

You hold me tight and whisper,

but death clasps tighter still;

a grip around our fragile hearts,

it’s a bitter poisoned pill.

 

You try to look, you try to see,

but your eyes are not the same.

Could you even see me

when I screamed out your name?

 

The feeling of bewilderment

as you take your last breath.

You leave in anger, not in peace,

I can’t walk with you in death

 

Death claimed your heart, and you claimed mine,

you’ve gone where I can’t follow.

You’ve left me sad and broken down;

my heart is dead and hollow.

 

Bitter sweet, bitter Suite

the feeling’s still the same.

Life and death go hand in hand,

but the memories remain.

 

© Bitter Sweet, Bitter Suite 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Elizabeth Siddal was the model for Sir John Everett Millais’s Ophelia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Rainbow

22 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by in Deep Stuff!, Longing & Waiting, Poetry

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A Thing of Beauty

You are as strange as a rainbow,
so rarely seen.
You seem real enough,
your bright colours gleam.
I cannot hold you,
touch you,
reach you,
I cannot find your source;
the calm after my storm,
nature with a force.
You are not solid
nor a fanciful flight,
with no use or purpose,
just a beautiful sight.

© Rainbow 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Self made rainbow, made in home garden.

Self made rainbow, made in home garden. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It’s not easy being me!

22 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by in Daily life, Humour, Poetry

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I know that I’m quite different.

I realise I’m strange;

that feeling that I don’t quite fit,

you stare like I’m deranged!

 

I think quite different that I know,

my thoughts are upside-down;

If you say left then I’ll say right

and when I smile you frown.

 

We are from different planets

you’re black and I am white,

but one thing that is evident

you’re wrong and I am right.

 

Don’t scowl or try to judge me,

sit back and wait and see.

I really am quite perfect,

It’s not easy being me!

A couple of 14-carat gold wedding rings. Pictu...

© It’s not easy being me 22.04.2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Tears

21 Saturday Apr 2012

Posted by in Longing & Waiting, Poetry, Worldly Winds

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Teardrop on Fire

I don’t understand this situation,

too complex in secretive layers,

hidden in depths of memories,

memories we do not share.

You do not want me,

you don’t let me go.

I cannot read you,

you blow hot

and cold.

 

You left me bereft with a trail of tears,

falling like Diamonds in the dust,

dust of bygone days long gone

the Diamonds made of rust.

I have no tears to shed

For you, I have no

more tears to

cry – Good

Bye.

 

© Tears 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Teardrop on Fire (Photo credit: tj.blackwell)

Ode to my Sons

20 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by in Daily life, Humour, Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

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Shoes

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 -or pots as we call them

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!

 

* Derbyshire saying meaning – shut the door!!!

 

© Ode to my Sons 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Hiding

19 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by in Daily life, Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

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I’m sat in my favourite place

and nobody knows I’m here.

I’m hiding from the world

and allowing my mind to clear.

 

I’m sat in a comfy chair

while the world is bustling around,

I’m watching life at its best;

sat thinking, not making a sound.

 

My phone is set to silent.

I’m invisible for a while,

I sip my tea whilst pondering –

I’m happy, I gently smile.

 

Up the spiral wooden stairs

is where I like to be;

It’s my very special, precious, space,

and I’m keeping it secret for me!

 

© Hiding 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

The Tulip Stairs and lantern at the Queen's Ho...

The Tulip Stairs and lantern at the Queen's House in Greenwich by Inigo Jones. The first centrally unsupported stairs constructed within the first wholly classical building in England. Français : Les Escaliers Tulipe et leur verrière dans la maison de la reine à Greenwich dessinés par Inigo Jones. Ces escaliers sont les premiers sans support central et se trouvent dans le premier bâtiment réellement classique en Angleterre. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Child Within

18 Wednesday Apr 2012

Posted by in Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Worldly Winds

≈ 16 Comments

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I see the child within you,

with your boyish short fair hair.

I hold my arms out to you

I want to show I care.

 

They may have left you

broken, bewildered and abused,

but I will never leave you

feeling neglected, sad and used.

 

You stand there like a ghost child,

one sock up and one half down.

too sad, too shy, too quiet,

Your face a pale, sad, frown.

 

Your little dress is crass and short,

your shoes are scuffed and worn,

your toys are few and far between,

your bear, one eyed and torn.

 

I see you quietly playing.

keep out the grown-ups way,

don’t let them know of what you think,

they cannot make you say.

 

Come  child, sit here upon my knee,

Let me soothe away the pain;

cry out your little heart to me

they can’t hurt you again.

 

Hush child, no need to cry,

I will wipe away your tears.

Just hold my hand and follow me,

I can soothe away your fears.

 

Hold strong, my love, rest in my arms;

be still and do not weep.

Listen to my lullaby

I’ll guard you whilst you sleep.

 

Be brave and bide your time Karen,

your future may be bright.

Hold the pain, the memories

take up your pen and write

 

© Child Within 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

 

Dreamtime

17 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by in Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Worldly Winds

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Wide-lightening

I had a dream

and you were there;

I didn’t feel love,

but I did feel scared.

 

Oh so watchful

by your guarded gaze;

it was not love

that kissed the days.

 

I am a fool!

For all these years,

you don’t love me

or my wasted tears.

 

You are too scared

of what might be.

You have litte regard,

or respect for me.

 

It is all clear

and I see it so;

so why can’t I

just let go?

 

I’ve made you Master

to my slave.

It’s just the power

that you crave.

 

This will not end

of that I’m sure,

until one of us

is no more.

 

 

© Dreamtime 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Footprints

16 Monday Apr 2012

Posted by in Deep Stuff!, Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

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Footprints

Stepping carefully

into the universe.

Walking soulfully

in rhyme and verse.

Deftly skipping

over puddles of pain.

Leaving no footprints

under my name.

 

 

© Footprints 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Footprints (Photo credit: cjsimmons)

Practising

16 Monday Apr 2012

Posted by in Daily life, Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Worldly Winds

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Statue of Buddha in Vietnam

Quiet in the Shrine room

sitting, silent, practising.

Birds call out and sing

the song of the Dharma.

 

A dog in the distance eulogises.

Sheep call for compassion;

the cows quiet,

contemplating,

ruminating

reflecting.

 

The rain hits the hollow roof.

The gentle, muffled, shuffle,

Of one who is suffering.

An offering of focus,

clarity and

love.

 

The singing bowl sings

The candle flickers

The incense spirals

Time for release.

 

 

© Practicing 2012

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Statue of Buddha in Vietnam (Photo credit: Wikipedia)