13 Monday Jun 2022
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Publications, Worldly Winds
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm, Alex Carr-Malcolm anthology, Bowelbabe, cancerresearchuk, Challenge, worldlywindspoetry
This is a short clip of me talking about my latest Chapbook – Challenge.
If you would like to order a copy, please contact me in the messages below and I will send details of how to order.
This one is dedicated to Maureen, my Aunt.
For every book sold an £1 donation will go to the bowelbabe fund – Cancer Research UK.
14 Saturday Sep 2019
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Tags
I will be taking part in Brave the Shave for Macmillan on 21st September. I have lost a lot of beautiful people in my family to cancer. The pictures below show some of those no longer with us. I miss them all very dearly.
I am so delighted to have raised £195, and there is still a week to go! Big, big thank you’s to all who have donated!
You can donate by clicking on either picture to take you to the Macmillan charity page, or you can contact me directly and either pay by paypal, bacs, or in person!
Alex 🙂 xxxx
I Am Doing This For You
I remember you…
Your tiny frame full of fearlessness,
teaching the universe,
the ways of the warrior.
We met in the church choir;
I was eight and you were six.
I am white and you were black,
already born to fight life’s prejudice.
Even then I was frightened;
cancer had claimed so many,
but they were old,
and you were six.
Do you remember the wedding?
Suited and booted, in cassock and gown,
you lifted your wig,
and the horror it caused.
I was only eight,
but I prayed for days and nights,
that God would give me your cancer,
and let you live…
He never did.
I heard your story, at the end,
it hurt for you to be held,
your mummy and daddy wept
whilst you comforted them.
You asked them not to cry,
and you said you’d be alright.
You never came back to choir.
Not long after, you died.
It was at this very time,
I stopped believing in God,
he never answered my prayer,
your prayer, or theirs.
I still remember you…
your tiny frame full of fearlessness,
and how we giggled as girls,
when you doffed your wig to the world.
© I am doing this for you 16.06.2014
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
I Am Doing This For You II
I am doing this for you,
and for those who never made it,
those who fell by the wayside,
and those who simply gave up.
I am doing this for you,
so I can hold your hand
and be a bigger vessel,
to hold the pain and tears.
I am doing this for you,
to be the one gone forth,
because by doing it for you,
I am doing it for myself too.
© I am doing this for you II 09.04.2015
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
02 Monday Sep 2019
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Hi
On the 21st September I have committed to take part in ‘Brave the Shave’ to raise money for the Macmillan (cancer support) Charity.
I am raising money by shaving my hair very short! I thought I would share this journey here and try and raise as much money as I can. If you feel you would like to donate you can either click on the photo above or follow the link below to donate! Even if you can only donate a few pennies, every little will go to this amazing and dedicated charity.
https://bravetheshave.macmillan.org.uk/shavers/alexandra-carrmalcolm
I will keep you updated and entertained with (cringe) photos of me over the years!
You can also follow my adventure on facebook too!
11 Sunday Nov 2018
Posted in Buddhism, Death, Deep Stuff!, Grief, Heartbreak, Love, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Bhante, poetry, Sangharakshita, Slan Abhaile, Worldly Winds poetry, Yorkshire poet
Yesterday I attended the funeral of my Buddhist teacher Urgyen Sangharakshita along with over 1200 other Buddhists. It was a beautiful, poignant, moving ceremony. I have never experienced anything as immense in my lifetime. Despite the heavy downpour of rain, the birds still sang, and the wind played in the autumn trees. By the time the procession to the burial ground took place, the sun came out and lifted the heavy skies.
I cannot adequately put into words my gratitude to Bhante. I met him twice, once at a shared meal at the Sheffield Buddhist Centre, and later in Birmingham (2011). He guided and inspired my Buddhist practice, and encouraged me to take my writing seriously. Without his guidance and teachings I doubt I would be where I am today.
How do I say thank you, and how do I say goodbye? I started to write this poem on the way down to the funeral and finished it on the way back. This poem relates to the loss of significant people in my life – Safe Home Bhante Urgyen Sangharaksita, go well.
Slán Abhaile
How do I say goodbye?
When I am living at the speed of life,
the eggshells I am walking on
pricking at my soul.
Remote and inaccessible,
with drawbridge raised to love,
how do I say goodbye?
The Trinity and Trilogy
conjoined in parse asymmetry,
seem so insignificant.
How do I say goodbye?
Slán Abhaile by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
10.11.18
17 Sunday Jun 2018
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Tags
abuse, Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Child Within, poetry, Worldly Winds poetry
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
11 Tuesday Apr 2017
Posted in Death, Deep Stuff!, NaPoWriMo17, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Moros, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, gothic, Gothic poetry, metaphysical, Moros, poetry
In the midst of life
we are in death
clinging to tracts
as we let go of breath
Moros by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
2016
Picture Credit: https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/381820874641860209/
08 Saturday Apr 2017
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Loss, NaPoWriMo17, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Fortune Favours Few, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Fortune Favours Few, NaPoWriMo17, poetry
the inky tears
spilled like no other day
a familial, a god, and a princess
left on a journey
which we could not follow
all the love in the world
would not return them to us
all the prayers in the world
went unanswered
for we know not why
when mortals die
and we can’t turn time
there’s no reason or rhyme
that we are left
behind
Fortune Favours Few – December 2016
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
19 Sunday Feb 2017
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Sanity
Eyeing up the empty seat,
she sat next to me,
a sweet little old lady.
She drew a breath, and talked non-stop.
My daughter-in-law says I’m nasty,
I’m not, I’m just proud.
She tells me about her childhood,
the blitz bomb that blew her fat aunt into the air,
one foot above her fireside chair.
My daughter-in-law says I’m evil.
How dare she, I’m just particular!
She tells me of her Airedale dog,
although, untaught, he did great tricks,
he’d eat with the cats, and begs when he sits.
My daughter-in-law says I’m a b-i-t-c-h.
I don’t like her much either.
She tells me of the girls and boys,
wartime friends, of climbing trees,
broken wrists, skinned arms, and knees.
My daughter-in-law says I’m cold and cruel.
I’m just stand offish.
Then she’s back in the present,
to the pigeon on the bird table.
Suddenly a Goshawk swooped and dived,
started to eat the pigeon alive,
I put it out of its misery.
Three kettles of boiling water poured –
upon the pigeon ‘til it was no more.
My daughter-in-law calls me names.
I don’t see them now.
Dementia apparent – she tunes in and out.
The Airedale put up a fight when backed into the oven,
it was probably the gas he could smell.
It had to be done – Oh well.
She sat next to me,
the old lady,
The nurse drew a breath and called her name.
The Waiting Room by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
19.02.17
Photo Credit: Waiting Room. Triangle Road, Hackney, London, 2011. Photograph: Stik
found on Pinterest.
22 Wednesday Apr 2015
Posted in Deep Stuff!, NaPoWriMo, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Cinnabar Wings, napowrimo, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
cinnabar wings
beating out
arrhythmic love
on a petrified heart
factional soul mates
behemoth burns
a cloying shadow
silhouetting souls
reflected, distorted
moth to the flame
© Cinnabar Wings 28.06.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Picture Credit: https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/439382507367868153/
http://www.Duskywondersite.com
09 Thursday Apr 2015
Posted in Deep Stuff!, NaPoWriMo, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, deep stuff, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
I am doing this for you,
and for those who never made it,
those who fell by the wayside,
and those who simply gave up.
I am doing this for you,
so I can hold your hand
and be a bigger vessel,
to hold the pain and tears.
I am doing this for you,
to be the one gone forth,
because by doing it for you,
I am doing it for myself too.
© I am doing this for you II 09.04.2015
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo credit: https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/97320041923123290/
Worldly Winds 