21 Saturday Apr 2012
Posted in Longing & Waiting, Poetry, Worldly Winds
I don’t understand this situation,
too complex in secretive layers,
hidden in depths of memories,
memories we do not share.
You do not want me,
you don’t let me go.
I cannot read you,
you blow hot
and cold.
You left me bereft with a trail of tears,
falling like Diamonds in the dust,
dust of bygone days long gone
the Diamonds made of rust.
I have no tears to shed
For you, I have no
more tears to
cry – Good
Bye.
© Tears 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Teardrop on Fire (Photo credit: tj.blackwell)
20 Friday Apr 2012
Posted in Daily life, Humour, Poetry
The toilet is a clever thing
with a lid, most like a door;
so please don’t wee upon the seat
or pee upon the floor!
Microwave or cooker,
it really matters not,
this magical flamboyance
will make your meals get hot.
Dishwashers are quite practical,
they clean pots ’til they gleam.
No clever sleight or trick to it,
just put the damn things in!
Crockery -or pots as we call them
are aids to keep you fed,
they aren’t for decoration,
don’t put them under your bed!
Food is quite sensational,
groovy in every way;
but when I go out shopping
don’t eat it in a day.
Clothes are sneaky demons,
they hide and split and breed,
but when they are all dirty
please put them in the machine.
Doors really are quite functional
they keep out draft and cold
and if you are from Derbyshire,
we say * ‘put wood in t’hole!’
The dog is cute, the dog is cool,
on this I must agree;
get of your arse, once in a while,
and take him for a wee.
I am your Mum – pink is my colour,
pink means it is MY stuff,
from ipod, pens to scarf and socks,
just keep your damn hands off!
* Derbyshire saying meaning – shut the door!!!
© Ode to my Sons 2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
19 Thursday Apr 2012
Posted in Daily life, Poetry
Tags
bustle, happy, hiding, invisible, poetry, ponder, precious, reflection, secret, smile, space, stairs, tea, thinking, world
I’m sat in my favourite place
and nobody knows I’m here.
I’m hiding from the world
and allowing my mind to clear.
I’m sat in a comfy chair
while the world is bustling around,
I’m watching life at its best;
sat thinking, not making a sound.
My phone is set to silent.
I’m invisible for a while,
I sip my tea whilst pondering –
I’m happy, I gently smile.
Up the spiral wooden stairs
is where I like to be;
It’s my very special, precious, space,
and I’m keeping it secret for me!
© Hiding 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
The Tulip Stairs and lantern at the Queen's House in Greenwich by Inigo Jones. The first centrally unsupported stairs constructed within the first wholly classical building in England. Français : Les Escaliers Tulipe et leur verrière dans la maison de la reine à Greenwich dessinés par Inigo Jones. Ces escaliers sont les premiers sans support central et se trouvent dans le premier bâtiment réellement classique en Angleterre. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
18 Wednesday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Worldly Winds
Tags
abused, broken, child, childhood, cry, fear, future, ghost, hurt, loss, lullaby, neglect, pain, playing, poetry, sad, sleep, soothe, tears, teddy bear, toys, write
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
17 Tuesday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Worldly Winds
I had a dream
and you were there;
I didn’t feel love,
but I did feel scared.
Oh so watchful
by your guarded gaze;
it was not love
that kissed the days.
I am a fool!
For all these years,
you don’t love me
or my wasted tears.
You are too scared
of what might be.
You have litte regard,
or respect for me.
It is all clear
and I see it so;
so why can’t I
just let go?
I’ve made you Master
to my slave.
It’s just the power
that you crave.
This will not end
of that I’m sure,
until one of us
is no more.
© Dreamtime 2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
16 Monday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Tags
Stepping carefully
into the universe.
Walking soulfully
in rhyme and verse.
Deftly skipping
over puddles of pain.
Leaving no footprints
under my name.
© Footprints 2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Footprints (Photo credit: cjsimmons)
16 Monday Apr 2012
Posted in Daily life, Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Worldly Winds
Tags
Buddha, Buddhism, Dharma, Incense, meditation, poetry, practising, reflection, shrine room, Singing bowl
Quiet in the Shrine room
sitting, silent, practising.
Birds call out and sing
the song of the Dharma.
A dog in the distance eulogises.
Sheep call for compassion;
the cows quiet,
contemplating,
ruminating
reflecting.
The rain hits the hollow roof.
The gentle, muffled, shuffle,
Of one who is suffering.
An offering of focus,
clarity and
love.
The singing bowl sings
The candle flickers
The incense spirals
Time for release.
© Practicing 2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Statue of Buddha in Vietnam (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
15 Sunday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Don’t try to fix me
I am broken.
Don’t try to save me now
my day has gone.
I live in memories,
dreams half remembered.
I am damaged,
smashed and undone.
I tried to fix me,
glue back the pieces;
some bits were missing
and some went back wrong.
Cry for the memory
of what could have been.
Weep for the history,
mostly unseen.
Grieve for the dream
of opportunity lost;
to reach full potential –
that life has gone.
© Broken 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Jean-Baptiste Greuze – The Broken Mirror – WGA10658 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
14 Saturday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Tags
Black Rose, Blossom, Flower, grief, heart, loss, Petal, poetry, Rose, spirit, summer, sun, tears
The last of the summer rays
blush gently on my cheek.
Tears fall like dew from the morning rose.
The flower blossoms,
the flower blooms.
Slowly it fades
as petals fall
one by one
the spirit
is gone.
I wear my heart upon my sleeve,
I also wear my rose.
Both are there for you to see.
The flower blossoms,
the flower blooms.
Slowly it fades
as petals fall
one by one
the spirit
is gone.
The last rose of summer cries.
The heart beats deathly slow.
The sun has set beneath the skies.
The flower blossoms,
the flower blooms.
Slowly it fades
as petals fall
one by one
the spirit
is gone.
© Black Rose 2012
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
black rose 1 (Photo credit: Melinda Taber)
14 Saturday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Worldly Winds 