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Worldly Winds

Tag Archives: grief

We Three

28 Wednesday Dec 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in Childhood Memories, Death, Grief, Loss, Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poet, death, grief, loss, poetry

I originally wrote this poem for a project I am working on at the moment. Last week I found out a good friend had passed away, and this poem seemed a fitting tribute to a gentle, kind, and dear friend. Go well good friend – go well.

img_2431

 

We walked on the beach,

my friend, the dog, and me;

looked out to the seas,

and plotted our dreams,

my friend, the dog, and me.

 

We danced on the beach,

my friend, the dog, and me;

we thanked lucky stars,

couldn’t believe where we are,

my friend, the dog, and me.

 

We strolled on the beach,

my friend, the dog, and me,

we sat in the dunes,

reflecting on tunes,

my friend, the dog, and me.

 

We stood on the beach,

my friend, and me;

wondering where the time had gone,

and how life had moved on,

my friend, and me.

 

Looking back at the beach,

just me;

the gulls mourn the song,

of where it all went wrong,

just me — and my memories.

 

© We Three October 2016

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

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Vanessa

21 Saturday Nov 2015

Posted by Worldly Winds in Anger, Death, Poetry

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm Vanessa, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, grief, heartbreak, poetry, Rape, Suicide, Yorkshire poet

95ee650c5be9686ac432b0eef3cf3877

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh Vanessa, Vanessa,

where do you get off?

with your dark overlord poetry,

another trendy hip goth.

Vampiric feasting from honest dark grief,

poetic death porn, for your gratuitous relief.

Stand up! Stand up! You superstar!

Perform and pose, so we see who you are.

Don’t think of your morals, your duty, or ethics,

just another shock jock out to get your death fix.

Don’t think of the victims, dead or alive,

those with slashed apart souls just trying to strive,

to cope with the day and get through to the end,

with ripped apart lives that can never mend;

trying to breathe, lungs molten with mourning,

to those who’ve met death without prior warning,

who’ve stood at the edge of the gaping abyss,

and see your floor show for the ego fix that is.

Just think of your creed, your name and your art,

don’t care for the wake of what’s torn apart.

After all – responsibility – is it all yours?

Oh no – surely not – you perform for your cause!

I’ll remember your face and your soft slick show,

as you pose to the kids on your high pedestal;

but the audience was captive, no choice in the matter,

as you trotted out mentally destructive chatter.

Stuck on the front in the audience stare,

in a flashback that rendered me froze to the chair,

reliving the horror, of the cruelty of death,

the pain and the agony spewed from your breath.

Did you even know what you had done?

either ignorance, or intended, it can’t be undone.

You’ve uncaged a monster that now preys on my mind,

I cannot conceive someone can be that unkind,

So that takes me to ignorance, and the stupidity is,

Oh Vanessa, Vanessa, it was you that did this.

 

© Vanessa 25.11.2014

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Picture credit: Pinteresthttps://uk.pinterest.com/pin/524317581589569768/

 

 

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Natural Order

04 Wednesday Nov 2015

Posted by Worldly Winds in Death, Grief, Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, grief, loss, poetry, Yorkshire poet

 

Remembering my cousin.

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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)

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Eight Lilies

28 Sunday Jun 2015

Posted by Worldly Winds in Death, Heartbreak, Poetry

≈ 27 Comments

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.

300px-Easter_Lilies-Lilium_longiflorum

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

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My Boy

20 Wednesday May 2015

Posted by Worldly Winds in Anger, Poetry

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, anger, death, grief, My Boy, poetry, Police, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

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That is my boy.

 

The one you shot,

the one you smote,

the Bactrian one

whose back you broke.

 

That is my boy.

 

The one you left

for dead in a cell,

who jerked and seized,

you thought he signed well.

 

That is my boy.

 

The one who is Deaf,

frogmarched and chained,

not understood,

his language restrained.

 

That is my boy.

 

The one who is ill,

as you bore down on his chest,

you broke his heart,

along with the rest.

 

That is my boy.

 

The one who is black,

the one who is white,

the one left hanging,

in a cell out of sight.

 

That is my boy.

 

The one you shot,

the one you smote,

the Bactrian one

whose back you broke.

 

That is my boy,

and it is your boy too.

 

© My Boy 18.05.2015

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Picture Credit:https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/306667055852311916/

Picture Credit: Found on sliptalk.com

This art installation was erected by South African artist Marco Cianfanelli, stands on the spot where Nelson Mandela was arrested 50 years ago. The monument is constructed out of 50 separate steel bars to represent 50 years since the capture.

 

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Tears

04 Saturday Apr 2015

Posted by Worldly Winds in Grief, Heartbreak, Longing & Waiting, NaPoWriMo, Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, grief, heartbreak, longing, loss, love, poetry, tears, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

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A love like ours

could have illuminated

eternal night skies.

 

Instead our tears

light up the firmament

and the stars burn our souls.

 

© Tears 04.04.15

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Photo Credit: Pinterest –

Raymond Philippe https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/552816922982643784/

NaPoWriMo15

 

 

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Threnody

22 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Death, Loss, Poetry

≈ 21 Comments

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

education-488036_640

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

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Nine Years

28 Saturday Jun 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Death, Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

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

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Death of a Minor

24 Saturday May 2014

Posted by Worldly Winds in Death, Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

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

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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&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

 

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The Other Side of Me

14 Monday Apr 2014

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

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, grief, heartbreak, napowrimo, pain, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet

Punch and Judy's Carribean Vacation

 

 

 

 

Do you know,

the other side of me?

Where the grass is greener,

and the soul is darker.

 

Do you know only,

my second face?

Not like the rest,

the one I keep for best.

 

Do you know,

if this is sunny side up

heads up, tales down,

turn that frown

upside down?

 

I think you know,

Little Miss Sunshine,

but have you met Judy

within or without?

 

Do you know,

the essence of me?

Not that of vanilla,

of sugar and spice,

but one of fear.

 

Do you know,

the other side of me?

Where the grass is greener,

and the soul is darker.

 

© The Other Side of Me 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Punch and Judy’s Carribean Vacation (Photo credit: _william)

 

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