18 Monday Apr 2016
Posted in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Cinnabar Wings, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
Cinnabar Wings
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
© Cinnabar Wings 28.06.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
17 Sunday Apr 2016
Posted in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Circle Dance, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
Circle Dance
Tell me why we dance the round
fingertips touching
feet on the ground.
This sweet wine tastes
of bitter allows
mother’s ruin,
sloes and arrows.
We spin around
and you leave me reeling,
the Judas kiss
was still deceiving.
I pledged to you
a barbed ring oath,
life shot me down
and stole your troth.
© Circle Dance October 2014
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
12 Tuesday Apr 2016
Posted in Humour, NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddhism, hula-hoop, humour, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, The hula-hoop of hindrance, Yorkshire poet
Hello dear friends – well it has been a testing couple of weeks – hefty car repair bill, washing machine repairs, cancelled appointments, a funeral, and now I think I am coming down with a lurgy!
This is an old poem, but it always makes me smile. I wrote it on retreat and it is a metaphor for being inhibited and restricted by our habits. I hope it makes you smile too 🙂
The Hula-Hoop of Hindrance
I saw it in the playground,
when I was only three,
the hula-hoop of hindrance,
resting by a tree.
It was pretty, pink, and sparkly,
with unicorns and glitter,
it even had, ‘go faster’ stripes,
so I could hula quicker.
I put it ‘round my tiny waist,
and hula’d round the yard,
little did I realise,
that it would make life hard.
I learned to love my hula-hoop,
though I was only four,
when I went to bed at night,
I’d leave it by the door.
I realised when I was five
(and also at aged six)
that I had been quite naïve
my hula habit fixed.
This went on – my dearest friends,
throughout my adult life,
attachment to my hula-hoop,
caused me so much strife.
When cooking in the kitchen,
and trying to eat my dinner,
my hula hoop got in the way,
and I just grew much thinner.
and when I met my boyfriend,
I’d hula-hoop for joy,
but holding hands whilst hula-ing,
well… the romance is destroyed.
Showering or getting dressed,
at work, at home, at play,
my pretty, sparkly hula-hoop,
was always in the way.
When I went upon retreat,
there was no problem there;
for there were many hula hoops,
that we could swap and share!
Then, Maitripala gave a talk,
about the hula habit,
if we can see the gateway….
the freedom’s there, so grab it!!
The moral of this story,
is not too clear to see,
but if you choose a skipping rope,
you can set yourself free.
One day I hope my hula-hoop,
will rest against that tree,
and if you choose to have a go,
it’s going, gratis, free!!
© The Hula-Hoop of Hindrance 17.06.2014
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
10 Sunday Apr 2016
Posted in Buddhism, NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddhism, finding the silent ones, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, UK poet, writing, Yorkshire poet
I wrote the poem below whilst on a retreat called ‘The Mythic Context’. It is a metaphor for seeking – it could be seeking happiness, seeking wisdom or seeking where we fit into the universe. This is one of my favourite poems. The sequel is in my latest anthology ‘Counting Magpies – Limited Edition’ and is titled ‘No Bell’. If you would like a copy please contact me direct 🙂
Finding the Silent Ones
I will scour the darkest forest
and glide through mango groves
searching for the silent ones
who travel the same road
I will fight the fiercest oceans
and plunge to deepest depths
searching for the silent ones
who sing with silent breath
I will trek across the deserts
leaving no grain of sand unturned
searching for the silent ones
for whom my heart doeth yearn
I will scale the highest mountain
and dwell within dark caves
searching for the silent ones
whom I hope to find some day
I will raft the rabid rapids
and abseil from peak to floor
searching for the silent ones
whom they say exist no more
I will comb the Sunkist beaches
and skim the silvery surf
searching for the silent ones
rumoured to roam this earth
I will search the church and chapels
and cathedral spires and tombs
searching for the silent ones
whom dwell in catacombs
I will tiptoe to the shrine room
and bow with folded hands
and here I’ll find the silent ones
my kith, my kin, my clan.
© Finding the Silent Ones 16.06.2014
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
05 Tuesday Apr 2016
Posted in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry, Poetry readings / Events
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Counting Magpies, Counting Magpies Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Daffodils, daffodils poem, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, Yorkshire poet
Picture credit: enchanted home.com Pinterest https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/568438784198424931/
Sorry about the blurry focus on the youtube clip! I don’t know what happened, at least I didn’t break the camera.
My mum was diagnosed with cancer in March 2005. The seasonal flower around Easter is the daffodil, consequently in the hospital she received a lot of beautiful vibrant daffodils. Also very significant as it is the symbol for Marie Curie cancer care.
I wrote this poem a few weeks later whilst she was in the hospice.
It is true – if you put a vase of tightly closed daffodils on a warm and sunny window ledge, you can hear them creak and crinkle as they open 🙂 I noticed this whilst she was sleeping and I was sat by her side.
Daffodils
Those last few weeks
we spent watching the daffodils.
Like two mischievous schoolgirls
we laughed until we cried
we cried until we laughed.
You said daffodils were noisy,
that they crinkled when they opened.
I thought it was the morphine;
but you were right,
they are noisy –
crinkly daffodils!
I see them
and I laugh
and cry.
© Daffodils 18.08.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Daffodils is published in Counting Magpies by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, if you would like to purchase a copy, please contact me 🙂
04 Monday Apr 2016
Posted in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry, Poetry readings / Events
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, poetry, UK poet, War Child, Yorkshire poet
This poem is available in my latest book, ‘Counting Magpies’ available either from Amazon or directly from me 🙂
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 child, far child,
not in my back yard child.
© War Child 2015
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
03 Sunday Apr 2016
Posted in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry, Poetry readings / Events
Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, Poem-a-thon Sheffield, poetry, where this is that becomes, Yorkshire poet
Today’s poem was part of the Sheffield Poem-a-thon that took place yesterday. 50 poets read in succession from 10am to 6pm. We were all sponsored and in total managed to raise £12,000 for Assist Sheffield, a charity who help destitute refugees and asylum in Sheffield. It was an uplifting and successful event with standing room only. A big thank you to all my sponsors who raised £162 – yay! Also a big thank you to my husband who kindly filmed me 🙂
Where this is, that becomes
When faced with the woven richness
of each slipping second,
I am confounded by its
mystery, absurdity, improbability,
each a miraculously stitched detail
in varying shades of the same thread.
When meditating
upon physiology of this being,
I can see how the headbone’s
connected to the backbone,
but asking how the heartbone’s
connected to the rainbow,
is a phenomenally fleeting fancy.
Where is the now of this very moment?
An ephemeral essence,
lingering upon the mind’s eye,
to be lost and witnessed,
more subtle than the breath of a bee,
more fragile than the heart of a butterfly
beating the odds – a winding down clock.
This is beyond a sense that is common,
and beyond the grasp of a humble hand;
it is the faint fragrance of a primal memory,
nurtured in the nursery,
played out by the quixotic,
protagonists in the playground of quotidian,
an egotistic boomerang.
So what is mine and mind?
where do I end and you begin?
To see the conundrum, the continuous koan
of life and death, of mind and breath;
do I want to be me or an Oak tree,
aren’t we the same? A branch of humanity,
seasoned with bittersweet reality.
© Where this is, that becomes 01.07.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
02 Saturday Apr 2016
Posted in NaPoWriMo 2016
Tags
ageing, Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, Valentine, Yorkshire poet
Hello! Firstly I would like to say – Good luck to all poets taking up the NaPoWriMo challenge. I will do my best to keep up!
You may have noticed that I have been quiet for some time, I have been ill for a few months now – thankfully I am on the mend and hope to be a little more present. Some of the poems to be featured in napowrimo16 are vintage. I have not been writing as much due to my illness. Hopefully napowrimo will inspire me into action!
Below is my first one for the event, it is an oldie but it hasn’t been blogged before 🙂 In the upcoming days, hopefully I will be able to upload some clips of me reading at the Sheffield poem-a-thon event 🙂 Happy writing and reading! Alex x
Valentine
You see an old man,
whereas I see the boy,
I see a lover,
all timid and coy.
You see grey hair,
where I still see curls,
the envy of all
the popular girls.
You see a paunch,
I see tall, lithe, and swarthy,
a blush to the cheek,
you considered me worthy.
You see an old fool,
well maybe that’s true,
after all these years,
I still love you.
© Valentine 2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
