04 Wednesday Nov 2015
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, grief, loss, poetry, Yorkshire poet
Remembering my cousin.
How can it be?
When it is not natural.
Not this way,
from the blind side.
How can it be?
Order?
When it is out of order,
out of the ordinary,
extra ordinary.
You oxymoron,
natural order.
How can it be?
© Natural Order 07.11.2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Findlay’s spirit (Photo credit: beccaplusmolly)
28 Sunday Jun 2015
Posted in Death, Heartbreak, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, grief, longing, loss, Mother, mourning, Mum, poetry, Yorkshire poet
It has been ten years since the death of my mother. This is one of my favourite poems dedicated to her. Not a day goes by when she isn’t missed and mourned.
Eight Lilies of remembrance,
stand to mark the way.
Eight lilies, one for each of you,
respect and honour the day;
to show that I still think of you,
though that day is done,
each lily marks a bygone past,
from a lifetime that is gone.
I smell their sweet thick lily scent,
It makes me think of you;
with fondest memories in my heart,
and tears that are now few.
No longer living in my world,
It is as though you’re dead.
The lilies are memorial,
to words still left unsaid.
© Eight Lilies 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
27 Monday Apr 2015
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, depression, napowrimo, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
Another day, another dollar,
washing pots, preventing squalor.
Mundane tasks, day in, day out,
the meaning of life, what’s it all about?
She takes the knife from the dishwasher rack,
and dries it slowly, stopped in her tracks,
she stops to think by the kitchen sink –
what if, what if, what if?
To push the knife deep in my gut,
would it slip in, like a needle in butter
would it wrinkle, like a blunt knife tomato
or would it resist, like a half cooked potato
Would it be simple or would it be hard to
plunge deep the steel, its passage legato
would it feel cold or would it feel hot
should I do it, or should I not?
Would it induce an arterial spurt
like Pollock upon my cobwebbed wall dirt
or would it just ooze and be warm wet and sticky
would she fall to her knees looking pallid and sickly
The dog nudges past which jolts back to reality
and someone shouts through the closed kitchen door
‘Mum, where’s the remote for the cable TV?’
I dry up the knife and place it back in the drawer
What if, what if, what if?
© What if? 2015
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
25 Saturday Apr 2015
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, games, Monopoly, napowrimo, poetry, The Waiting Game, UK poet, Uk poetry, waiting, writing, Yorkshire poet
I am waiting for my turn.
Playing the game,
forever stuck.
Do not pass GO,
do not collect £200.
I am waiting to see the blue Angel,
to battle the red square,
stroll down Park Lane
and stay a while…
at the Mayfair.
I am waiting for my Chance,
my, Get Out of Jail Free,
the bank error in my favour,
to win second place in – anything,
my inheritance.
Instead,
I go back three spaces,
make general repairs to my green house,
pay my taxes – that’s fine,
for Doctor’s fee – read prescription.
I’m done with waiting!
Do I pay a £10 fine,
or take a Chance,
or do I wait –
two die?
© The Waiting Game 28.12.14
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Picture credit:http://www.playbuzz.com/laurawhite11/which-british-monopoly-square-are-you
08 Wednesday Apr 2015
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, love, Mother, Mum, napowrimo, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
It’s been ten years long,
since you passed away,
and then you decided,
you’d come to stay.
I was shocked,
when I saw you;
you know,
I adore you.
You never announced,
you’d arrive today,
you bounced straight in,
in your usual way,
announced to me,
you’d come to stay,
gave me a start,
unpacked your bags
and moved into my heart.
© Mother Came to Stay 08.04.2015
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Picture Credit: https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/39547302953922258/
22 Saturday Nov 2014
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm Threnody, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, grief, memories, memory, poetry, Threnody, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
Do not grieve when I am gone,
I would not want it so.
Plant both feet firm in life’s joy,
and let my spirit go.
Take Mother Earth and dance with her,
and pass the day with Father Time,
for when you hear the linnet sing,
Know that it comes from my beating heart.
When you see the cherry blossom,
confetti falling at your feet,
Know that I celebrate your life,
in each and every way.
When you see the warm spring showers,
or harshest winter rains,
know that they are my tears of joy,
for your each and every day.
When you feel the summer’s breeze,
or brave a storm wind night
Listen out!
For I may call your name,
to remind you I’m about.
© Threnody 09.10.14
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Picture credit: Torfi007 Pixabay
01 Saturday Nov 2014
Posted in Daily life, Death, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Lily, housework, Lily, love, Mother, mundanity, pain, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
I kick the dishwasher door shut
with my right foot.
Slam the mugs into their rightful place
without a backward glance,
click the washer onto spin.
Will it never end?
Then…
pulled up short,
a though occurs;
one day there will be no pots to wash,
no clothes to be done,
for you will be gone.
I fondly caress your fleece
slung carelessly across the chair,
and remove your work bag from the table –
to reveal the lily head, squashed,
beheaded, and hidden,
under mundanity
of housework.
© Lily 09.10.2014
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo Credit: JamesDeMers Pixabay
15 Friday Aug 2014
Posted in Childhood Memories, Death, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, childhood memories, Dagda Publishing, death, faith, memories, Yorkshire poet, Yorkshire poetry
I remember you…
Your tiny frame full of fearlessness,
teaching the universe,
the ways of the warrior
To see the full poem click on this link
Photo credit: courtesy of Ancestral Archives of Derbyshire
28 Saturday Jun 2014
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, grief, heartbreak, longing, loss, Mother, Mum, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
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
24 Saturday May 2014
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, cancer, death, grief, heartbreak, hospice, loss, memories, Mother, Mum, pain, Peak District, poetry, sorrow, tears, UK poet, Uk poetry, Woodhead Pass, Yorkshire poet
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=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/romeo66/2101025633/”>Romeo66</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a>
Worldly Winds 