For those nanoseconds of insight into the life, universe and nothingness

I am doing it for you

14 Saturday Sep 2019

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Poetry

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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.

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.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Brave The Shave

02 Monday Sep 2019

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Alex Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Bravetheshave, cancer charity, Macmillan

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!

Slán Abhaile

11 Sunday Nov 2018

Posted by Worldly Winds in Buddhism, Death, Deep Stuff!, Grief, Heartbreak, Love, Poetry

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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.

20181110_155143~2

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

Child Within

17 Sunday Jun 2018

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Poetry

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abuse, Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Child Within, poetry, Worldly Winds poetry

carr-malcolm

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

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Moros

11 Tuesday Apr 2017

Posted by Worldly Winds in Death, Deep Stuff!, NaPoWriMo17, Poetry

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Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Moros, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, gothic, Gothic poetry, metaphysical, Moros, poetry

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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/

blog3

Fortune Favours Few

08 Saturday Apr 2017

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Loss, NaPoWriMo17, Poetry

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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

blog3

The Waiting Room

19 Sunday Feb 2017

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Sanity

≈ 9 Comments

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Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Dementia, hospitals, memories, old age, poetry

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.

Cinnabar Wings

22 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, NaPoWriMo, Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

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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

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Picture Credit: https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/439382507367868153/

http://www.Duskywondersite.com

I am doing this for you II

09 Thursday Apr 2015

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, NaPoWriMo, Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

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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.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Photo credit: https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/97320041923123290/

Thirteen

13 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

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Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, death, time, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

With tick after tock

as life leaves the clock,

time is ebbing away,

and tock before tick,

where time starts to slip,

reality shrouded in grey.

The pendulum swings

as the death knell rings

night bleeds into day,

as midnight chimes,

love’s sleep is sublime,

youth has out welcomed its stay.

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Picture credit: Picture courtesy of www.commentsyard.com

Worldly Winds

~ It's not easy being me!

Category Archives: Deep Stuff!

I am doing it for you

Brave The Shave

Slán Abhaile

Child Within

Moros

Fortune Favours Few

The Waiting Room

Cinnabar Wings

I am doing this for you II

Thirteen

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