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
Animal Communication Animals Buddhism Nature tribute Yoga

An encounter with God

Yesterday, I had a lovely time, teaching special yoga in a local disabled centre. We reflected on kindness and on bodhicitta – wishing good things for ourselves, the persons we love, those we don’t like, all the sentient beings around us: the animals – pets and wild – plants, the planet… Everyone!

Categories
My Poems writing

Ink

Staying still, saying nothing,

Even when I’m dying to.

But Think. Think: Consequences

Before she even attempts

To articulate your thoughts.

Categories
My Poems Nature

Silence

Brown bird, on the fence

Say nothing, stay still.

A mindset, a stream.

Breathe deep, change the lens

No sliding down hill.

Life is but a dream.

Categories
activism Animal Communication Animals bird watching Birds Nature stories

Corvidae

Birds are always in sync. They always arrive and leave at the right time.

Seven years ago, my parents were driving in the French countryside, where they live.

My dad noticed a black shape on the side of the road. As he got nearer, he found himself looking into the eyes of a fledgling crow who was laying there, near a roundabout. She was only a few weeks old and completely on her own, with no parents in sight or earshot.

Categories
creativity doodles My Sketch Book portraits

Meet John…

John is a mechanic. He used to be mobile but now he has his own workshop in an industrial estate. He likes going to the beach – but not sandy ones, because he doesn’t like finding sand in his chips.

Every Friday evening he goes to the pub after work, for a pint of lagger. Not this week though…

xxx,

Noémie.

Categories
creativity doodles My Sketch Book portraits

Meet Doris…

Doris wears black shiny shoes with big buckles and rides a chequered black and white Vespa – matching her socks – with a thousand mirrors and headlights on.

Categories
creativity My paintings My Sketch Book writing

Om

image

As I ponder on the meaning of Home

I notice the universal sound, Om.

Om, Sweet Om – When do we get to go home?

Is Om, the sound of our universe, Home?

However hard we try, some places will never feel like home.

And sometimes we stumble upon a place and our heart sings: OM!!!!!!

I guess a place feels like home when we feel at peace with ourselves and the world by just… being there.

Could it be that once we are at peace with ourselves and the world around us, then we will feel at home everywhere we go? This fuzzy, homely feeling will be with us, for good?

I do think so.

::::::::::::::::::::::

She was waiting for her next patient to settle. While she was reading across her notes, the woman was lying prone on the table, with blocks supporting her hips. She could see that her legs weren’t quite straight as she noticed that her feet were not quite next to each other.

She started to apply pressure on the lower back of the patient. The woman’s body tensed up instantly and she let out a noise.