song for the unsung heroes

My Poems

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Sometimes, you don’t need to do something ground breaking to be a hero.

ordinary, anonymous, unsung heroes

are the ones who inspire me the most.

the ones who are not attention seeking or looking for praise.

the ones who are not trying hard to prove themselves,

who don’t need the world or anyone else watching them,

for they are not trying to impress or to entertain.

they are getting on with it.

in their day to day lives,

they make sure they are present.

they don’t neglect the ones around them for

the benefits of a greater good, or some bigger picture

for details and small things are

what make big, great pictures.

the true heroes are not super,

but anonymous and local

they help whenever they can,

whoever needs them.

a child, a lost dog, an injured bird,

a dying badger on the side of the road,

a lost soul, an old one, the cashier, the neighbour…

they give their time and attention,

a friendly hear, a wish, a positive thought, a prayer…

or just a smile.

they often appear out of nowhere,

like an angel, springing out of the (blue) shadows.

unrecognised, they don’t share their good deeds on facebook,

because like it or not, they are busy doing the actual work

not just talking about it.

I hope it’s in all of us.

we all have our own heroic solitary moments, when no one is watching.

and keeping them to ourselves might be

what makes them even more special.

The spirit of my local park…

creativity, My paintings, My Poems

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he is out and about more often at this time of the year,

especially at dusk.

his face is the stream that runs through the park,

his body is a tree trunk.

he proudly wears leaves as his crown

for he is the king of his own kingdom.

moss runs up along his sides,

his beard is made out of hair and feathers

from the animals who live there.

his eyes are deep and profound,

for they hold the promise of the night.

the heating is on

My paintings, My Poems

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The heating is on,

the cupboard is well stocked, with

almond milk, cocoa and xylotol.

my watercolour paints are out

and the CD player is not skipping,

for once.

a few good books to catch up with,

warm wooly socks,

a good film for later

and a big thick duvet to cuddle under.

come on autumn, come on winter

bring your long grey rainy days,

your early night falls,

your long dark rainy nights

now that i live in a town

in a warm and cosy nest

you’re welcome to go on and on.

now that i can walk to the library,

and to the local coffee shop,

now that i can ride my bike to the next village,

now that i am pretty much back pain free…

now that, know that, now what?!

 

I shed a tear

My Poems, Thom, Videos

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As I watch you play

Your favourite seaside game

On a windy day

I see, what a shame,

I wasn’t even watching.

At the time, back then

I was just busy talking

Hiding in my den

In my head, my thoughts

I didn’t see the beauty

Happening in front me.

Luckily Tara filmed it

And now I got to watch 

A tiny part of my life

That had somehow escaped me…

Watching myself not watching

Missed moments of you growing

While still being there.

Being physically right here

But my head is somewhere else

And the sad thing is…

I bet it will happen again.

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Comedy Fuzz

My Poems

“Bang!” Said the gun

The Story of an Evolution.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!” Waving a stick – gun

“You shot me down”, in slow motion

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

I said: “I’m dead!”

And it makes you smile,

Although I can tell your head

Isn’t completely at rest,

As you give me a slightly worried look.

“Bang!”

A body hits the ground, somewhere.

Hung,

A body elevates itself

Leaving the shallow realm of the half-gods behind,

To enter the wild unknown.

Leaving the one-eyed and the blind

Retelling your story as if they knew

Why you let yourself drown,

In the lights calling you…

Candles, bare lightbulbs, flames, neon,

Sunlight, headlights, starlight, moonlight…

Full moon lit night.

And that’s the last thing you saw of this world.

That’s where your next chapter begins…

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Robin Williams in What Dreams May Come

The Heart of a Yogi

My Poems

chatral_rinpoche

His Holiness Chatral Sangye Dorje Rinpoche. Photo from here.

 In the eyes of every yogi there is sadness

And dear ones left behind.

A yogi feels kindness

Towards the suffering of the mind

Of those caught up in the never ending

Place of being best, first, having this

but also that. No end, no beginning,

Chasing the tail of happiness, but never bliss.

Contentment, compassion, self-study…

Here are some of the jewels hidden

In the heart of a yogi.

A B.L.U.E. D.R.A.G.O.N.

Animals, My Poems

imageHow could I have known?

About the weather, the either or?

That I would drop my crown

Quiet, suddenly (and slam the door),

Somewhere in town.

I’m sill feeling restless

In the upside of the Downs

But I’m trying to add more stillness

In my life and yours as we are blown

Away from our deck chairs,

The passenger seats.

Electric is the air

I can even feel his heart beats.

The count in between lightning and thunder

Tells us how far the storm is from here

What about the count from the dragon’s lair?

Can you tell if He is near?

Green Tara

My Poems, Yoga

Green Tara

A delightful line drawing of Green Tara by the master of Tibetan arts Sherab Palden Beru.

Rainbow1_signes

Green Tara

As I sat in the lotus position

I settled in meditation

I noticed the rainbow in front of my eyes

Nature reminding me of the beauty

In the world all around me,

No need for because’s, no need for why’s.

Then this message came to me:

“I know no fear”

I felt that familiar comforting presence

Of Green Tara, I can feel her near

“I know no fear”

“I know no fear”

I can feel her pouring strength,

into my whole being.

And the little rainbow has turned green and is flickering.

As I start chanting Tara’s mantra in my head

My lips followed

I can feel my soul, my heart, my physical body

Filling up with courage, strength and feeling invincible

I keep chanting and the energy inside me

Keeps filling up, up, up, like a bottle.

The rainbow is now completely green

Green. Emerald green.

The colour of my heart chakra

Emerald green.

The colour of Green Tara.

Now I force myself to stay still

to NOT reach for a pen and paper

to write down how I feel.

Sit still, observe, take it all in

As the blessing is taking place

Stay here, stay now, plugged in

As the healing is taking place

“Please Green Tara can you help me

Please can you heal my back

So I can be a better karma yogi,

A warrior staying on her track”

Then I felt the warmth

Enveloping my body, going down my spine

I felt that loving healing light bath

Coming from the power of this feminine divine

Green Goddess who appears

By the side of those who need to be reminded

That THEY, too know no fear.

Rainbow2_signed

May I be still enough to appreciate the beauty around me,

May Green tara always bless my life and the life of all sentient beings

May I make room for my yoga practice everyday

To remember who I am:

A humble Karma Yogi on her path to help others.

Just a comet.

Rainbow4_signed

Noemie.

Snow Balls

My Poems

Gorse Flower_web_signed

Snow Balls

I need to turn my emotions into something

Write them down, lock them in a book

So they can let me be, a freer being

A better me, or try again, at least , to unhook

From my need to control, to decide, to know.

So I take a break and sit down

On a rock, by a path.

So I can watch everyone else passing me by.

I become the witness,

of my own mind. Of my own life

Of my own lies.

“You’re no good at this!”

Says the familiar voice in my head.

I can feel tears filling my eyes

So I gently smile and crave for bread.

I do think I’m no good at this

But it only matters if I care

About feeling worthy of any value

If you remove the thought of self esteem then I dare

Walking around bare feet and taking things on a new face:

faith value.

Noemie.