
Since you got cancer,
your roles are reversed.
Joy of living is your job,
saving the world—your hobby.
Since you got cancer,
your roles are reversed.
Joy of living is your job,
saving the world—your hobby.
All I recall
of the classrooms
is being small
and sky
through giant windows
and giant trees outside
and a ban
on chatter.
All I recall
of school reports
is “Rachel could do better”
(how did they presume
to know?)
and “Rachel
talks too much.”
When I found
those old reports
all I saw
was “Captain of the B Team”
and “very good
very good very good.”
Why didn’t anybody
say?
poem by rachel mcalpine CC BY 2.0 photo of Christchurch Girls High School old building in public domain
The sternest man in town
is wearing lacy knickers
and smiling in his thighs.
poem by Rachel McAlpine CC BY
Feel free to share or quote and poems on this blog, but do give my name as author.
Fortunately
this experience gives you
the experience required
to survive
an experience
like this.
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
Say less.
Mean more.
Win the match.
Lose the score.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine
When in doubt
do something
that you’ve done before.
When in pain
do something
that you’ll never do again.
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
I don’t understand your language
but I do understand the tune.
Talk soon.
– – – – – –
Rachel McAlpine
She whispers his name
to the night
and her voice trickles down
to him.
Across the moon
a skin
crumbles patch by patch
as they watch.
Water, water.
Who knows when
these two will blend
again?
*
Rachel McAlpine