Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm Sisterhood, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Northern poet, poetry, St Helena Chesterfield, St Helena Girls school, Worldly Winds poetry
19 Sunday Apr 2020
Posted Poetry
in19 Sunday Apr 2020
Posted Poetry
inTags
Alex Carr-Malcolm St Helena and St Helena's Reply, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Northern poet, poetry, St Helena Chesterfield, St Helena Girls school, Worldly Winds poetry
For all St Helena Pioneers!
12 Sunday Apr 2020
Posted Poetry
inTags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Magpie, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Counting Magpies, Northern poet, poetry, Worldly Winds poetry
This is a poem from my second anthology ‘Counting Magpies’ 2015
Happy Easter everyone, stay home, stay safe!
04 Saturday Apr 2020
Posted Poetry
inTags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm The Hula Hoop of Hindrance, poetry, The hula-hoop of hindrance, Worldly Winds poetry
22 Sunday Mar 2020
Posted Poetry
inTags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Counting Magpies, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm counting magpies limited edition, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Hands, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poet, Worldly Winds poetry
As so much emphasis is being placed on staying safe by frequent and thorough hand washing, I thought I’d share this poem acknowledging how important they are to us.
Stay safe people, and keep up the hand washing.
Hands
Hands that unpick stitches
Hands that hit or hurt
Hands that cradle babies
Hands that shovel dirt
Hands of holy worship
Hands that take a life
Hands that make a masterpiece
Or paint one with a knife
Hands that create harmony
Hands that cook a meal
Hands that speak a language
Or read on as they feel
Hands that work the fields
Hands that heal wounds
Hands that pluck upon a string
Or conduct symphonic sound
Hands that hold a champagne glass
Hands that serve up trifle
Hands that hold a sweetheart’s hand
Or hands that hold a rifle
Hands that tuck a child in
Hands that make mud pies
Hands that bear a coffin
Or mop sad tears from eyes
Hands that hold a pencil
Hands that turn a page
Hands that write down poetry
Or create a play on stage
Hands can do so many things
They serve our whole life through
For good or bad, with joy or sad
The choice is up to you.
© Hands August 2015
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
First Published in – Counting Magpies (Limited Edition) 2015
19 Thursday Mar 2020
Posted childhood, Childhood Memories, Children's poetry, Poetry
inTags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poet, children's poems, poetry, Surprise Sandwich Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Worldly Winds poetry
Surprise Sandwiches
One of brown sauce, one of red
One of Bovril, jam, or spread
One of lard with salt and pepper
Cheese and pickle tastes much better
Condensed milk is such a treat
Sugar soldiers can’t be beat
Take your pick and do not peek
Surprise sarnies Granddad’s treat!
© Surprise Sandwiches 19.03.2020
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
17 Monday Jun 2019
Posted Poetry
inTags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Parris, Philomena, Philomena Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Philomena Lynott, poetry, Worldly Winds, Worldly Winds poetry
This is dedicated to Philomena Lynott. Go well lovely lady.
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
11 Sunday Nov 2018
Posted Buddhism, Death, Deep Stuff!, Grief, Heartbreak, Love, Poetry
inTags
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.
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
25 Thursday Oct 2018
Posted Poetry
inI came home from work to find this gargantuan balloon! I’ve never had a birthday balloon before, this has made me smile 😀 I’ve also had a fab present of a new techy gadget, hopefully this will help me keep this blog updated on a more regular basis!!!
17 Sunday Jun 2018
Posted Deep Stuff!, Poetry
inTags
abuse, Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, Child Within, poetry, Worldly Winds poetry
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