Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Biography

Alexandra was born in 1965, and lived in Chesterfield in Derbyshire until she was 19 years old. In the mid 1980′s she moved to Sheffield, South Yorkshire. Alexandra started writing poetry many years ago, often keeping ideas, words, and verses penned in the backs of diaries, journals, scribbled on envelopes, bits of paper and even stored on her mobile phone. 'Growing up surrounded by such beautiful rolling countryside has definitely inspired my writing.' Alexandra works as a freelance British Sign Language Interpreter. 'Interpreting is more than a job, it is a vocation; everyone has a story to tell and I am a privileged part of their unfolding drama. I love communication, books, language and words.' As a practicing Buddhist, in May 2011, she was privileged to have a meeting with Sangharakshita – the founder of the Triratna Buddhist Order. He inspired her to take her writing seriously and sowed the seeds for the beginning of a poetry blog. This meeting combined with encouragement from friends and other writers, led to the start of the, ‘Worldly Winds’ blog. At present the poetry on her blog mainly has a theme of, ‘longing and loss’. 'Poetry is my passion and burns brightly within. I cannot imagine ever being in a situation where I am not scribbling down some wisdom, or inspiration that has come to me. I like the idea of blogging my work, as it enables people to access poetry, and maybe even inspire them to write. My blog has only been live for a short time, and already I am touched by how many people have viewed my work, taken the time to leave comments and even follow my poems and verses; I find it a humbling experience.' Alexandra is one of the contributors to the soon to be released, ‘The Road Less Travelled’, by Dagda Publishing. She is also drawing together a selection of poems for her first anthology, to be released in 2013 called, ‘Tipping Sheep (the right way).' 'My ramblings are based on my personal experiences from my weird and wonderful life. My mother used to joke that my life story would make a best-selling trilogy for Catherine Cookson, and even then it would be considered too unbelievable. I do not aim to make a living out of my writing, but it would be nice to leave a small thumbprint somewhere in this universe, before I continue onward with my transcendental travels!' Alexandra Carr-Malcolm www.worldlywinds.com

Samples

First Love I held you tight and clung to you, my love for you untold. I stared into you deep brown eyes, my heart was yours to hold. So soft to touch, I kept you close, I kissed your furry ears. My love, my friend, my confidante, my darling teddy bear. You shared my secrets, calmed my fears, as you watched over me. You've watched me grow over the years, a birthday gift at three. You stood by me, in hours of need, and protected me at night. When I was ill, you’d comfort me, and soothe me ‘til the light. I cried for you, and made a fuss, my teddy bear most dear hanging wet upon the line, one peg upon each ear. We've had our scrapes, both you and me, but survived them none the less; the time the dog played tug o’ war… but I sewed back your head. Now I’m grown, no more a child, It’s you that I adore. Although you’re bald, you’re my first love, my one eyed teddy bear. © First Love 2012 By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Yorkshire My love affair with Yorkshire, is strange to the extreme, the rain comes down in stair rods, as puddles turn to streams. Flint faced buildings stand proud, the natives just the same; hard with a directness, reflecting poverty’s pain. ‘Aye up love’, and ‘Ta duck’, a mantra of the North, a warmth and loyal passion, found around the hearth. Depleted coal face scenery, ghost towns from the past, mine the depths of politics, betrayed by bluest lass. Coal-dust mottled snowscapes, contrast the wuthering heights, bleak outstanding wilderness, the slag heap moors by night. My soul belongs in Yorkshire, with Brontë, Hughes, and Moore, this northern heart keeps beating, ‘til death doeth close the door. © Yorkshire 30.11.2012 By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm Bittersweet, Bitter Suite Bittersweet, Bitter Suite, you break my heart again. I gently hold you in my arms try not to cause you pain. This sweetness to be with you, to see your face once more; to cherish just one last sweet kiss, before death slams the door. Oh to be with you right now to talk and laugh again! For focus, love, and clarity - the calm before the pain. You hold me tight and whisper, but death clasps tighter still; a grip around our fragile hearts, it’s a bitter poisoned pill. You try to look, you try to see, but your eyes are not the same. Could you even see me when I screamed out your name? The feeling of bewilderment as you take your last breath. You leave in anger, not in peace, I can’t walk with you in death Death claimed your heart, and you claimed mine, you've gone where I can’t follow. You've left me sad and broken down; my heart is dead and hollow. Bittersweet, Bitter Suite the feeling’s still the same. Life and death go hand in hand, but the memories remain. © Bittersweet, Bitter Suite 2012 By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.