15 Thursday Nov 2018
Posted in Poetry
I fill the world with words
so you can’t find me
in a tangle of text
hiding in lex-
-ical tom
foolery
silently
spoken, yet
shards in the heart
worlds far apart from
where I retreat to sanctuary
© Tomfooleries 14.07.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
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
05 Monday Nov 2018
Posted in Poetry
Copies still available either on Amazon or available direct from me ☺️
Good news!
The paperback version of Counting Magpies is imminent! I will also be releasing a limited edition edition. The limited edition will contain three bonus poems and will be signed by my own fair hand. If you choose, I will also hand write one of my poems of your choice inside the book.
In the meantime here is a poem from Counting Magpies – a sneak preview!
Click on the picture of the book to take you to Amazon.
War Child
War child, far child,
not in my back yard child,
foul flies, infesting eyes,
freely grief is advertised.
Blasé news, propaganda views,
stretchered to the blues and twos.
Feuding plans, dividing clans,
charity absolving man.
Splitting heads, landmines, legs,
rubberneck, the child who begs,
behind the eyes, traumatized,
rape and murder legitimized.
Arms and gear, year on year,
dealers, spreadsheets, profiteer,
bankers, warlords, politician,
making schisms, capitalism.
War…
View original post 20 more words
28 Sunday Oct 2018
Posted in Poetry
Sat here writing,
drinking a brew;
weaving words,
for a poem, or two.
Feel my craft,
a magical spell,
casting its net,
as you sample my hell.
I’ll spin you a line,
to make you feel good,
a twist at the end,
to chill the blood.
© Friday Night 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
27 Saturday Oct 2018
Posted in Poetry
Betwixt and between,
the poem and the dream,
the light and the night,
flows the unconscious stream.
Words play in my head,
from the land of the dead,
the stars and the moon,
hold the gossamer thread.
© Gossamer Dreams 11.02.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo Credit – unknown – if this is your picture and you want it removed or credited to you, please do not hesitate to contact me.
27 Saturday Oct 2018
Posted in Poetry
This is the final piece from the poetry workshop. The final piece was inspired by Maitreyabandhu’s ‘The Bond’
The idea was to give a feel of anticipation of an impending visit, and use Maitreyabandhu’s closing phrase of, ‘Just the air’, within the poem.
Just the Air
All is still…
and I am present,
caught between two worlds,
just the air as our witness,
and a pillow of dreams
as darkest night unfurls.
I smell your sickly lily scent,
of cigarettes and light Chanel.
Why do you come?
What do you want?
Forgiveness or
remembrance,
from your little girl?
You left in anger
not once, but twice.
So why return
in darkest night,
when you’ve been gone,
these eight years long?
© Just the Air 22.03.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
English: Moon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
26 Friday Oct 2018
Posted in Poetry
The next few poems were written on a poetry day. The first poem is inspired from R.S.V.P. by Beverley Nadin. The task was to write a list of items that we packed to take on our last retreat, and then include some of them in a poem. This was my attempt 🙂
Three books,
one red, one blue, one black,
Poetry, Dharma and Drama.
A pencil and pen,
backed up with a spare,
(thank God for my Kindle!)
and a brush for my hair.
My potions and pills,
(no nightie with frills)
Just good solid thermals!
Pyjamas and socks
squashed in a bag,
and no need for locks,
as I’m escaping to freedom;
leave humdrum at home.
I’m longing for space,
and a room of one’s own.
©Three Books 10.03.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Bell, Virginia Woolf (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
25 Thursday Oct 2018
Posted in Poetry
I came home from work to find this gargantuan balloon! I’ve never had a birthday balloon before, this has made me smile 😀 I’ve also had a fab present of a new techy gadget, hopefully this will help me keep this blog updated on a more regular basis!!!
09 Sunday Sep 2018
Posted in Poetry
Conker season is here!
Newborn conker
Chestnut gleam
White top hat
Shines autumn sheen
Boys delight
To wait for fall
Victors conqueror
Conquests enthrall
Oh that shimmer
Lasts but a day
Before they harden
For battles play
Conker 10.10.2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
05 Wednesday Sep 2018
Posted in Poetry
Ohhh it’s that time of year again – seem to have contracted freshers flu prematurely! Pass me the Lemsip!
I’m feeling much better after a restful weekend – I thought I’d share this silly poem 🙂
A poet with a head cold
is not so good to see
fuelled by Olbas and by Vicks
tissues to fell a tree
Cannot think of words to write
has lost their sense of meter
rhymes won’t work and sPeLing’s gone
it could be writ much neater
My brain’s contracted that’s 4 sure
and poems just turn out grotty
So I’ll just snuggle in my bed
and knock back ten hot toddies
© WoMan Flu 21.10.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Worldly Winds 