14 Tuesday Jan 2014
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, archetype, insanity, longing, loss, madness, moon, poet, poetry, Sea, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
mercury moon madness
diurnal tide sadness
solitary soul cottage
penning poet’s pottage
quill warrior wordsmith
archetypal Queen or myth?
©Moonlight and Madness 14.01.2014
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo Credit – Member name Geralt – http://pixabay.com/en/tree-kahl-moon-human-group-66465/
26 Thursday Dec 2013
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, bed sit, Christmas, Christmas pud, divorce, grief, lodger, longing, loss, memories, memory, pain, poetry, Satsuma, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
I am the festive lodger,
pushed from pillar to post.
Always someone else’s Christmas,
fake smiles to a congenial host.
I’m as shafted as the fairy,
stuck on an artificial tree;
outsider looking inwards,
mourning my family.
I am the bedsit teen Queen,
as I celebrate alone,
Satsuma tears and Baileys cheers,
and Christmas pud for one.
I open up your present,
somewhere you sip Champagne,
a cheap acrylic jumper,
and a card with misspelled name.
Noddy screams, ‘it’s Christmas!’
Sinatra croons away,
a miracle on 34th,
saved by Jonah’s cavalry.
I am your inconvenience,
you left when I was twelve,
destined to be a lodger,
condemned to festive hell.
© Satsuma Tears 11.12.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Christmas in the post-War United States (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
21 Saturday Dec 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Bird, loner, poetry, Robin, Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, solitary, sorrow, UK poet, Uk poetry, winter, Yorkshire poet
Robin in the green,
camouflaged unseen,
always stands alone,
and in the summer gone.
Through arctic ice and snow,
you’re always there on show,
pitched on a handle’s fork,
whilst the gardener works.
Despite the bitter chill,
your sight brings festive thrill,
iconic feathered friend,
who stays ‘til winters end.
Solitary bird,
your song remains unheard,
hiding in the green,
camouflaged, unseen.
© Inner Bird 21.12.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo Credit – Rotkehlchen bird/European Robin (Erithacus rubecula) from Rhineland-Palatinate, Germany. Suomi: Punarinta (Erithacus rubecula) Rheinland-Pfalzissa Saksassa. Français : Rouge-gorge familier (Erithacus rubecula) de Rhénanie-Palatinat, en Allemagne. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
30 Saturday Nov 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddha, Buddhism, Buddhist retreat, Dharma, enlightenment, humour, meditation, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
Day eight in the Big Buddha House,
and all is well.
There’s jam on my toast,
and my drink is swell;
and even the rota,
says I’m free ‘til the bell.
Sat on the cushion,
meditation’s not pushin’
my buttons today,
all is calm for a change,
Mental weather is clement,
and nothing to lament,
in the Big Buddha House today.
Prostration – not frustratin’
and the bruise on my knee,
nearly gone thankfully,
and the muscles in my tum’
no longer undone;
I can launch with abandon,
then horizontal to standin’ –
not bad for an old bird like me!
Then the talks – they inspire,
and my mind is on fire,
with ideas and with thoughts,
with a passion they course,
and my heart it does swell,
and I’m leaning as well,
Yes! These things they call ethics,
are quite deep and complex,
let’s leave it at that, just for now…
Oh – the food is sublime,
as I sit down to dine.
Delia is surpassed!
Skilful cooks make repast,
and the smells in the steam,
am I sensing Tajine,
in the Big Buddha House today?
And then there’s our dorm,
floor two, number one,
where sisters in Dharma,
sleep safe, warm, and calm;
and I have to confess
though my bed is a mess,
and my corner’s a state,
we three, are good mates,
in our cosy warm dorm –
floor two, number one.
Day eight in the Big Buddha House,
and all is well.
There’s jam on my toast,
and my drink is swell;
and even the rota,
says I’m free ‘til the bell.
© The Big Buddha House 22.11.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Raven, with her hood down, meditating. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
30 Saturday Nov 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddhism, enlightenment, habits, humour, meditation, poetry, tea, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
My tea is too hot,
my tea is too cold,
my tea is too sweet,
the milk is too old.
The toast is too burnt,
it’s not brown enough,
I wanted white bread,
Oh no… not the crust!
I can’t find my jam,
the banana’s got spots,
there is no fruit knife,
the apple’s got rot!
The porridge is lumpy,
I can taste tahini,
I’ve added some milk,
and now it’s too creamy!
I’ve lost my spot,
someone else is sat there,
I wanted to sit,
in my favourite chair.
I’m trapped in a corner,
I’m sat in a draft,
I’m too near the door,
Oh! All this is daft!
I should just be grateful,
that I’m here today,
living and breathing,
the middle way.
it’s ten twenty four,
we meditate in a bit,
I stand at the door,
now where shall I sit?
This cushion’s too high,
this cushion’s too low,
this cushion’s too lumpy,
and on it goes…
© The Perfect Breakfast 24.11.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
English: I took this picture. Grilled cheese sandwich with white bread, American cheese, and tomato soup. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
30 Saturday Nov 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddha, Buddhism, change, enlightenment, ethics, meditation, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet
Will I be changed when I go home?
Physiologically within my anatomy,
the square root of all, as follicles fall,
and even my skin, the body I’m in,
will all have aged, showing signs of decay,
the reminders that say, time is passing away.
And what of my mind, what will I find,
when I peer inside, mental chatter subsided?
Still waters run deep, has the ethical seeped,
within my being, all knowing all seeing?
Will the sky like mind be more refined?
And what of my words, will they be kindly heard?
Will they help and caress, not causing me stress?
No longer frivolous, talking of trivial stuff,
but gentle with harmony, causin’ no harm today,
encouraging and pure, where less is more.
Will I be changed when I go? I sincerely hope so.
All these ethics abound, turned my brain upside down,
which connects to my heart, from which I can start,
more subtle and deeper, universal teacher.
I can put into practice, no delusion or malice,
all the things I have learned for which my heart yearns,
and Yes! – I am changing.
© Change 30.11.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Gerber Daisy With Raindrops (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
13 Wednesday Nov 2013
Posted in Childhood Memories, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, chickenpox, childhood, Christmas Eve, loss, love, memories, memory, Mother, Mum, poetry, Polka dot, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
They called you ‘big Dot’,
and I was ‘little Dot’,
you hated that.
Remember when,
on Christmas Eve,
chickenpox struck
with great malaise?
Granddad came to visit me,
and how he laughed,
and how he teased,
‘spotty Dotty’, he would say.
Remember the day, he came to play,
in his best green polka dot shirt?
‘Who’s spotty now?’
I shouted out loud.
You hit me,
it hurt.
© Dorothy 14.11.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
28 Monday Oct 2013
Posted in Grief, Heartbreak, Longing & Waiting, Loss, Muse, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, anonimity, cry, heartbreak, longing, loss, moon, muse, poetry, stars, Sybarite, teardrops, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
Veiled in anonymity,
hidden from the world to see,
living out my life I’m never known.
Feeling that I don’t belong;
you all sing a different song,
quietly I slip on by unseen.
As the moon its teardrops cry,
each a star lights up the sky,
as it hears my heartbreak every night.
One day though I will belong,
you will hear my siren’s song,
ring throughout the universe unbound.
Until then I’m here to stay,
writing with my words I play,
poets sybarite will haunt my heart.
© Sybarites 28.10.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Picture credit – unknown – if you are the owner and wish for the picture to be removed please contact me, likewise if you are the owner and wish to be credited, please provide details and I will happily add the credit.
21 Monday Oct 2013
Posted in Daily life, Humour, Poetry
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Common cold, head cold, hot toddy, humour, Influenza, Olbas Oil, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, Vicks, Yorkshire poet
Just to let everyone know – my woman flu has finally cleared up! I just thought I’d share this silly poem for fun – thank you for all the well wishes 🙂
A poet with a head cold
is not so good to see
fuelled by Olbas and by Vicks
tissues to fell a tree
Cannot think of words to write
has lost their sense of meter
rhymes won’t work and sPeLing’s gone
it could be writ much neater
My brain’s contracted that’s 4 sure
and poems just turn out grotty
So I’ll just snuggle in my bed
and knock back ten hot toddies
© WoMan Flu 21.10.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Image of a container of Vicks VapoRub (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
12 Saturday Oct 2013
Posted in Publications
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, publications, The Road Less Travelled, Threads, Tipping Sheep (the right way), UK poet, Uk poetry, Western Haiku, writing, Yorkshire poet
Click on any of the covers to take you to the link to purchase
or check out the publications tab for other options 🙂
Worldly Winds 