Protagonist

29 Tuesday Jan 2013

Posted by Worldly Winds in Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

advice, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, inspiration, poetry, protagonist, UK poet, Yorkshire poet

How I wish,

you were around,

to keep my feet,

upon this ground,

to clip my wings,

and whisper this…

Life’s a play –

protagonist,

don’t give up,

and don’t give in,

it’s just a game,

that no one wins.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

28 Monday Jan 2013

Posted by Worldly Winds in Poetry

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Follow the Female Buddha

I also saw the moon
and so I say goodbye
to this world
Chiyo-ni

In Japanese poetry the moon is often a reference to enlightenment. In this death poem by Buddhist nun Chiyo-ni, she expresses her final words to the world and her experience of awakening. Is it a glimpse? A continuous state of mind?

As one of the great haiku poets of her time, Chiyo-ni expresses a sense of wakefulness in all her poems with sublime beauty and metaphor. She wrote her first poem at age six and spent her life devoted to the arts of 18th century Japan.

In my garden
starflowers bloom
come and see.
Chiyo-ni, age 6

While her choice to become a Buddhist nun came later in her life after the death of her husband, the temple near her home was purported to be a strong influence in her life. Her devotion to the wonder…

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Propelling Poems

28 Monday Jan 2013

Posted by Worldly Winds in Daily life, Poetry

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Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, drawing, Faber and Castell, muse, pencils, poetry, sketching, writing

Graphite sticks propelling poems,

Indian white erasing Koans,

Faber’s fables etching easels,

pencil led creating castells;

without my scribe,

where would I be,

blotted books,

anonymity.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

辉柏嘉（Faber-Castell）铅笔与橡皮 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Bless You!!

27 Sunday Jan 2013

Posted by Worldly Winds in Childhood Memories, Daily life, Humour, Poetry

≈ 23 Comments

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.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Easter Chicks on a Boat (Photo credit: nickstone333)

27 Sunday Jan 2013

Posted by Worldly Winds in Poetry

≈ 8 Comments

This is powerful, and fabulous to hear it read by Ms Plath herself 🙂

Dagda Publishing

Welcome to our Weekend Poetry Readings, where we find a classic poem read by the poet. In doing so, by presenting the poem in the words of the poet, we hope that something new is conveyed to you, the listener.

This week, we decided to share some Sylvia Plath with you. Plath’s importance in the field of literature is undisputed, and in her short life she burned brighter than most. Credited with advancing the genre of confessional poetry, she is perhaps best known for her autobiographical novel The Bell Jar, written shortly before her untimely death in 1963, and two collections of poetry, Ariel and The Collosus andOther Poems. Posthumously awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1982 for The Collected Poems. Even though she is gone, her words, and here, her voice, live on.

So take a minute, sit down, and enjoy this piece. One of the…

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Elephant in the Room

26 Saturday Jan 2013

Posted by Worldly Winds in Daily life, Poetry

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, arrogance, critical, critique, meaningless, poetry, pretentious, UK poet, Yorkshire poet

They lust and slaver,

Oohed and aahed,

prestigious piece,

held with regard.

Stepping back,

to take it in,

I’m at a loss,

where to begin.

What it means –

can but surmise,

the Emperor’s clothes,

to a child’s eyes.

But still they come,

to worship it,

priceless pap,

elitist crit.

Decadent daubs,

and senseless scribble,

visual vomit,

verbal drivel.

Pretentious, pointless,

beholding eye,

meaningless,

to all but thy.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Child painting (Photo credit: magnusfranklin)

25 Friday Jan 2013

Posted by Worldly Winds in Poetry

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A stunning piece for Burns night.

Dagda Publishing

Thare is na time that wull nae come again
Th’ stoor o’ ages weightless winds huv spread
Howfur git back ‘ere ah cannae ken

Oor bairn’s a mon tae quickly grown frae grain
‘n’ we noo wear th’ masks o’ parents deid
Howfur made it ‘ere ah cannae ken

Ah track oor years by pathways thro’ th’ glens
‘n’ loue ye mair than ever cuid be said
Howfur git back ‘ere ah cannae ken

Th’ seasons wi’ thair changes come ‘n’ then
print upon th’ freish genetic treads.
Thare is na time that wull nae come again

Thae trees wha’s totem beauty time disdains
climb thro’ space tae light whaur thay ur fed
Howfur git back ‘ere ah cannae ken

In time a’ Hielands fall upon th’ plain
‘n’ ragin` floods wi’ mortal blood run rid
Thare is na time that wull nae come again.
But howfur git tae ‘ere…

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