Three kitchen objects
aiming to be enigmatic.
Compost scraps display as art.
A dish cloth poses as a rose.
A cup is only a cup.
Poems
Index of injuries
age 7, concussion
from playing bullrush
age 17, cracked metatarsal
from dancing rock and roll
age 40: carpal tunnel syndrome
from typing on the fly
age 55: broken wrist
from roller blading
age 75: sore knee
from doing Zumba
age 78: sore knee
from walking on my knees.
Spot a pattern here?
“Mum,
you always go too far.”
Red light — haiku
On holiday
poems lie down and go slack.
Red light.
Deeply sleepy — haiku
Deeply deeply sleepy
I need a cat
on my lap.
Feel the green
listen to the riroriro*
twinkle over spring
feel the green beyond the tarmac
feel the green
*riro riro: grey warbler
Ankles
We were taught
to cross our ankles
not our knees
when seated
for reasons
of aesthetics
and decorum.
A lesson lost
on all today
apart from
doctors
actors
royalty
and models.
Poem and pic by Rachel McAlpine CC BY 2.0. Now why did I choose that photo…
Not often
not often
that a vehicle appeals
to my motherly instinct
A new long poem coming up in bits and pieces: Long Song of the Unyoung
I’ve begun a whole book in loose verse about ageing, and I debated whether to post it on this blog (which, after all, is dedicated to my poems) or on my regular blog, Write Into Life. The other contender won, for two reasons:
- because I want this book to be read like easy prose, and it may appeal to people who don’t usually read poetry
- because Write Into Life uses a plan that permits audio files, and I want to read the poems aloud to you.
If you follow Write Into Life you’ll catch every piece of this read-aloud poem as I post it. I’ll keep posting poems here, but most of my energy goes into the book at present. I’ll be back, but for today’s poem, visit Write Into Life!
https://writeintolife.com/2018/06/15/long-song-of-the-unyoung/
Long Song of the Unyoung
is an unpruned rose bush
scrappy and vivid and wild.
I should have saved that insight
for the work in question
but I have squandered it on you.
Then again, unpruned bushes
do squander beauty
so squandering is perfectly in line
Photo and poem by Rachel McAlpine CC BY 2.0. That means, go ahead and share them both, as long as you attribute them to me.
The hardest part
with Bruce
my parents were pretty much
well really they were addicts
that put a massive fact on me
welcome to my life
fall into a dark pit
I didn’t know what homeless was
the hardest part of homelessness
the hardest part was
hardest part
you get bored
and then you start adopting
to try to be a father
no one’s there to pick you up
I gave my heart to Jesus Christ
I ended up in this place
I feel like I’m still homeless
because of the past
just be kind, really
Voices Without Homes are mined by Rachel McAlpine from the pages of Te Ha Tangata: the breath of the people, a human library on homelessness. Editor Elspeth Tilley, published 2018 in Aotearoa New Zealand by Te Puaroha Compassion Soup Kitchen and Massey University School of English & Media Studies. https://www.facebook.com/tehatangata/
photo Kevin Burkett cc by-sa 2.0
Free and broken
with Shannon
I was a slave to my family
when I ran away
I felt free like a bird
I wanted to soar
at five years old
I chose that life
that’s when I found
my homelessness
I had love for these people
I met on the street
all I knew was how to survive
and help the others
I learned a lot of things
things I don’t want to talk about
things I’m not proud of
but that’s how it was
the street was home back then
but it broke a lot in me
I am broken
by my homelessness
my emotions and my life
are not the fault of others
but the homelessness inside me
is very, very deep
whoever hears these things
open your heart to see
what is needed
and what can be changed
Poem mined by Rachel McAlpine from the pages of Te Ha Tangata: the breath of the people, a human library on homelessness. Editor Elspeth Tilley, published 2018 in Aotearoa New Zealand by Te Puaroha Compassion Soup Kitchen and Massey University School of English & Media Studies.
https://www.facebook.com/tehatangata/
photo by nate on Flickr cc by-nc-nd 2.0
Poems in the wild—Rachel McAlpine 