
If you want eternal life
don’t be a human
or a web site.
Be
a sea
anenome.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

If you want eternal life
don’t be a human
or a web site.
Be
a sea
anenome.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

I wanted to give you a poem
eighty years back
when you were first-born
and armies were rising
and peace receding.
You learned about consultation
in the womb.
I wanted to give you a poem
to thank you
for protecting me
and holding my hand
and showing the way
and making peace
without any fights or feuds
or atom bombs.
The poem sat in my head for weeks
waiting for Mother’s attention.
On a short dark day
lop-sided day
turn-around day
a fence of shards and sand
and shrapnel sprang up
between the poem and me.
So I clambered over the fence
ripping my shorts
on splinters
lost a shoe
and clambered back to you
the almost perfect baby
to give you what you lacked
the one thing all big sisters need:
your very own big sister
just like Jill
to shelter and protect you
and hold your hand
and take the lead
on dark days
and on bright days too
the way big sisters do.
with love from Rachel 23 June 2016

Habits not haphazards
are needed
for the next decade.
‘Keep desk tidy’
is not a habit
and you know it.
‘Tidy desk daily’
might help.
– – –
Rachel McAlpine

Speak softly
to the newly wed,
the dearly dead.
Speak loudly
to your Uncle Fred.
– – –
Rachel McAlpine

Do you get sick and tired of being drip-fed poems, one per day? Would you like to have a bunch on a single theme so you can pace yourself?
That’s easily fixed. Go straight to Amazon and get yourself all my Senior Poems in one ebook. You’ve read some of them here. You know they’re kind of fun and sometimes even wise. (Not sure how that happens, but the Muse works in mysterious ways.)

You’re tired
(says Ruby)
so it’s good we’re playing
something entiring
and something
not entiring.
I tell you what to do:
make some dolls’ clothes.
That’s entiring.
And then I go home
and you have a wee rest
when I’m not here.
*
Rachel McAlpine
From a conversation with Ruby, aged 4

Baby skin has pleats
but never a seam.
Where to stop with the face cream?
Where to stop with the knife?
Where to stop with the Botox?
Where to start with the life?
*
Rachel McAlpine

‘You look young.
For your age, that is.’
That’s cool?
Worship my wrinkles,
you fool.
*
Rachel McAlpine

Nostalgia has a bad name.
Nasturtiums. Neuralgia.
Think backwards without blame:
we will never
be the same.
*
Rachel McAlpine

Inside your pineapple shell
you have dreams
of being happy,
being well.
*
Rachel McAlpine