Jazz Mum

I wrote this poem in 2016. I contacted Philomena and asked if it would be alright for me to use ‘Parris’ as the title to my third anthology, as a tribute to her son Philip Parris Lynott.

Phil Lynott as a poet, musician, and singer had a profound impact in my teenage years. The words, music, and mythology intertwined with my complicated and troubled adolescence, getting me through some tough and heartbreaking years.

When I had finished the anthology I sent it to her for her approval. I was really nervous and hoped she would like it. She contacted me to say she loved it. I was both elated and relieved.

Such a beautiful and inspirational lady, I am so glad we had a connection and I got to meet you. You will always be remembered, loved, and an inspiration to us all.

Philomena

She stepped into the world

in an ill-fitting skin,

and fashioned a coat of shame,

woven with silks gossamer thin,

dip dyed with hues of blame.

Buttoned up with mismatched memories,

with her pockets full of dreams,

hemmed in, hemmed up, Portofino cuff,

stitched up by a seamstress’s seam.

One day she said, enough is enough!

and slipped off that coat infame,

she had grown right in to the ill-fitting skin,

so she crafted herself an new name.

Finally freed from her widow’s weeds,

she called to the Dakinis within.

The moon and the sun in a syzygy dance,

to the tune of the neap tide seas,

coronate crown of abalone shell,

with a cloak of Etesian breeze,

she plucked the lightning out of the skies,

and collected her juvenile tears,

forging an armour from Hadesian hell,

annealed in Elysian fields,

protector of Phthinoporon souls.

She learned to wear her life well.

Philomena by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

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Slán Abhaile

11 Sunday Nov 2018

Posted by Worldly Winds in Buddhism, Death, Deep Stuff!, Grief, Heartbreak, Love, Poetry

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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.

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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

Mum

28 Thursday Jun 2018

Posted by Worldly Winds in Death, Poetry

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Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, loss, Mum, poetry, writing

March 69 Mum and me

For my Mum…

I looked through the window,

I thought I saw you;

just a hint of a memory

that I wanted to view.

A past life once lived;

a deep memory pain.

I had to control myself

from calling your name.

Her walk was all wrong

and her hair, not the same,

but she had the same clothes

as I saw in my dream.

I followed behind her

and hoped to see

that it really was you

as you used to be.

I knew it was futile

and couldn’t be true;

you’ve been gone these six years,

it couldn’t be you.

Alexandra Carr-Malcolm 2012

Child Within

17 Sunday Jun 2018

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Poetry

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abuse, Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Child Within, poetry, Worldly Winds poetry

carr-malcolm

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

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Worldly Winds

~ It's not easy being me!

Tag Archives: poetry

Jazz Mum

Sisterhood

St Helena and St Helena’s Reply

Magpie

The Hula Hoop of Hindrance

Surprise Sandwiches

Philomena

Slán Abhaile

Mum

Child Within

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