17 Friday May 2013
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, dreams, heart, heartbreak, longing, loss, love, poetry, soul, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
Even when…
you’re with her,
she’s all alone.
Even when…
you dream of her,
she’s gone.
Even when…
you kiss her,
you’re not the one.
© Even When… 17.05.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
English: Sunset at Porto Covo, west coast of Portugal (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
05 Sunday May 2013
Posted in Daily life, Loss, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, empty nest, empty nest syndrome, growing up, heartbreak, leaving home, loss, love, poetry, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
The nest a cold tomb,
my heavy heart a hollow stone,
my chicks have all flown.
© Fledglings 05.05.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
English: Moorhen Nest and Chicks On the Serpentine Lake at Hardwick Hall. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
04 Saturday May 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, dreams, heartbreak, longing, loss, love, moon, poetry, serendipity, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
Slowly, silently,
now the moon,
eclipses all but you,
reclining in serendipity’s arms,
as diamonds glinting
eyes of stars,
fledglings nesting
in my heart,
and nought can
sever souls
apart
Serendipity 04.05.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Serendipity beach (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
18 Thursday Apr 2013
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Heartbreak, Loss, Love, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, heartbreak, last love song, longing, loss, love, poetry, separation, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
I wonder if you think of me
and of things we used to do,
of all the times we laughed and cried;
this is my last love song to you.
I wanted to hold your heart someday
and stroll on sunset shores,
I’ve dreamed of resting in your arms,
whilst watching shooting stars.
It feels much like a lifetime,
that I’ve waited ‘round for you;
I’ve hung on every meagre word,
with tear stained eyes wet through.
You’ve held my heart within a vice
of neglect and nonchalance,
I’ve watched you from a distance,
did you think of me – just once?
I’m moving on and leaving you
back in the past where you should be,
this is my very last love song,
to a distant, cautious memory.
You’re not a man of mystery,
a lover, nor a friend,
you have no right to break my heart,
but I’ll love you ‘til the end.
©Finale 18.04.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
English: Two candles in love. The flame is inverted heart shape. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
16 Tuesday Apr 2013
Posted in Death, Deep Stuff!, Grief, Heartbreak, Loss, NaPoWriMo, Poetry
When you sipped champagne,
to celebrate the slipping of your life,
what did I have?
He was a chancer,
Romancer,
much the same as you.
I did it on my own,
no help,
no love,
Just me,
and a will to survive,
to feel alive,
and to hope.
Sometimes,
all we have,
is
hope.
© Hope 16.04.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
15 Monday Apr 2013
Posted in Heartbreak, Longing & Waiting, Loss, Love, NaPoWriMo, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, heartbreak, loss, love, pantoum, pantun, parting, poetry, UK poet, winter, Yorkshire poet
The pantun is a traditional Malay form, a style of which was later adapted into French and then English as the pantoum. A pantun consists of rhymed quatrains (abab), with 8-12 syllables per line. The first two lines of each quatrain aren’t meant to have a formal, logical link to the second two lines, although the two halves of each quatrain are supposed to have an imaginative or imagistic connection.
I love you
but I let you go
I see through
the winter’s snow
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
15.04.2013
English: A snowdrop. Svenska: En snödroppe. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
27 Wednesday Mar 2013
Posted in Death, Heartbreak, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, anger, bruises, death, domestic abuse, domestic violence, dreams, heartbreak, loss, marriage, poetry, UK poet, violets, Yorkshire poet
His pint glass half empty,
he’s nursing the blues;
always bitter, never mild,
flat cap and scuffed shoes.
She hoovers the house,
with stars in her hair,
sings to her muse,
thanks god he’s not there.
As he sits in the pub,
nursing his woes,
the footy is lost,
as the last whistle blows.
In her Primarni dress,
she scrubs hard the floor,
heart in her mouth,
dreads the key in the door.
He shuffles on home,
with her heart in his boots,
a belly of beer,
and a loin full of fruit.
She accepts his gift,
with the grace of a Queen,
a necklace of violets,
blacks, blues, and greens.
He broods and he dreams,
cultivating his grudge;
she’s stolen his youth,
this old, plain, drudge.
She lies stock-still
as the stars in the air.
He can no longer hurt,
what is no longer there.
© Violets 27.03.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
English: Violets by the coast path This year seems to have been particularly good for violets. This is part of a bank also scattered with lesser celandine. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
10 Sunday Feb 2013
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Grief, Heartbreak, Longing & Waiting, Loss, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, betrayal, broken heart, daemons, heartbreak, longing, loss, memories, poetry, stars, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
Bury my heart upon the hill,
So I can count the stars,
deafened by my silent rage,
the world’s a critic and life’s a stage,
you sent me to an early grave,
to dance with my daemons,
in a barbed wedding gown,
you broke my crown,
and lowered me down,
so I can haunt the stars.
How dare you call my name,
when you are broken too,
more damaged and fragile than I,
I hope I made you cry,
in that balmy summertime,
occupy my body and mind,
I’ll bury my heart on the hill,
so I can dream of the stars.
Dedicated to my dear cousin Alan – may you rest in peace – you will be missed, I hope you can dance with the stars.
© Counting the Stars 10.02.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Stars over Sea (Photo credit: overgraeme)
07 Thursday Feb 2013
Tags
ageing, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, death, grief, longing, loss, memories, poetry, remembrance, time, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
Tick tock, tick tock,
my mother’s watch,
upon my arm,
tick tock, tick tock.
It shouldn’t be here,
it should be there,
I have her face,
I have her hair,
tick tock, tick tock.
The time flies by,
I grieve each day,
bequeathed to me,
time slips away,
tick tock, tick tock.
I smell the strap,
for scent of her,
but ‘tis long gone,
no trace is there,
tick tock, tick tock.
Our hands the same,
as time moves on,
just memories,
her voice is gone,
tick tock, tick tock.
The days slide by,
my treasured piece,
reminds of times,
and death’s release,
tick tock, tick tock.
Each tick from you,
I further slip,
each tock to you,
a step I skip,
tick tock, tick tock.
Tick tock, tick tock,
my mother’s watch,
upon my arm,
tick tock, tick tock.
© Mother’s Watch 07.02.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Britannic Ladies Watch Bracelet Ad, 1922 (Photo credit: DominusVobiscum)
02 Saturday Feb 2013
Posted in Daily life, Longing & Waiting, Loss, Poetry, Waiting and Longing
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, ambience, barista, bohemian, classical guitar, longing, loss, memories, muse, poetry, snow, UK poet, Yorkshire poet
I sip my tea
In the cafe bar
He sits and picks
Classical guitar
Snow flutters down
Ambience imbued
Johan Sebastian
As the barista brews
Behind the pillar
I sit and muse
Of times gone by
And heart beats used
I solitary sit
In the cafe bar
He sits and strums
Classical guitar
© Bohemian 02.02.2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Classical Head by Pablo Picasso (Photo credit: cliff1066™)
Worldly Winds 