Categories
My Poems writing

Joy Ride

On Christmas day, Thom got up at 3:20am,

ran downstairs to have a look under

the adorned fake plastic tree yonder

and ran back upstairs to tell me, excitedly:

We had to get up quickly!

these presents under the tree

were not going to open themselves.

So we had an early start that day… and I got my new bike.

If you happened to drive through East Grinstead town centre

in the very early hours on Christmas Day 2019,

you may have seen that crazy woman

riding her new bike in the dark

around a public car park…

That was me.

And I have really enjoyed cycling ever since.

Later on I found myself riding around that same car park:

full speed, just for the heck of it,

and it felt like being 10 again.

I had forgotten the cheer joy

of pointlessly riding a bike

around the block, outside my house,

without actually going anywhere.

I really enjoyed it, yet

something inside me was ordering me to stop.

Like an old lady shouting outside her window:

Telling me to just go home

and get on with all the things,

the very same things I do everyday

and that always need doing.

I often have this feeling, that when I’m enjoying myself,

I ought to stop. “Now”.

Like I shouldn’t be allowed,

for who am I to have fun?

I’m not worthy of that Joy.

Where does this feeling come from?

Time well spent is time spent doing

something productive instead.

Meanwhile, so many people

spend tons of money trying

to retrieve that long lost spark.

Adults don’t have fun.

they only pretend.

They think they like getting pissed

in a crowded pub on Saturday nights,

standing there, pretending to enjoy it.

But a lot of them have secret wild rides

in shopping trolleys after pub hours.

Adult fun needs a few pints,

and the cover of the night.


I thought I’d share with you this poem I wrote back in January, before Lock down. I guess I just wanted to remind you that this too shall pass and better times will come.

XOXO,

Noémie.

Categories
My Poems writing

From the ashes you will rise

How do you measure a dream?

In feet, grams, litres, brush strokes?

Meters of films stashed somewhere?

Dancing quietly upstream,

With the sharp eyes of an hawk,

Storm of meteor showers.

Categories
My Poems writing

Message from a jilted generation

You feel so tired

and yet you keep on scrolling

Looking for disillusions,

Something new to believe in.

Your life is like a

bad internet connection:

Doesn’t seem to get going,

Sporadic, scattered.

Up or down. Or is it both?

Categories
My Poems Thom writing

A tale of motherhood

It begins like a Tempest,

With a storm at sea.

I do feel like adulthood

is over rated.

It’s a palette of feelings:

Categories
My Poems writing

Cows know the way

Cows know their way home.

They know when to venture out

When the grass is sweet

then they know when to head back,

up the beaten track.

Categories
Animals Essays stories writing

Never really there.

I really thought that was the end of that.

But clearly I was wrong.

No signs, no evidence. Just shreds of paper.

I could hear the unmistakable sounds… right above my head.

One of the dogs could hear it too, even though she chose to ignore it.

Maybe it’s the best way? Ignore it and it will just go away…

No, it’s just too tempting.

I just… have got to… go and have a look.

Categories
bird watching Birds Nature photography

From the water’s edge

Here is a series of pictures I recently took from the water’s edge in Weirwood Reservoir, which is one of my favourite places around here. It is a big body of water made of the Medway River – even though it is only a stream at that point (the Medway starts around here), there is a dam at one end which keeps the water contained here. Although it is man made, it is such a beautiful place and a great haven for wild life…

Categories
activism bird watching Nature

Local Wildlife Protection Mission…

I went for a walk this am, to visit one of our local pond which is a small sanctuary for wildlife and a great bird watching spot. I was sat on the bench there, listening to all the bird songs and enjoying watching them all.

As I got a bit closer to take a picture of a duck, I realised that the water had a lot of rainbow pools in it. I saw that someone had thrown a car battery in the pond and that the acid had been leaking…

Categories
bird watching Birds Nature photography

Birds from my backyard triptych

I would like to think that I’m a naturalist. But mostly an urban naturalist.

I love observing Nature reclaiming urban areas.

Categories
bird watching Birds My Poems photography

May is gone…

Bird Fluff_Fotor.jpg

May has vanished in a flash.

She’s disappeared. Gone. Like that.

Nesting birds

Lost in thoughts

The garden still needs cleaning.