Joy Ride

My Poems, writing

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.

Never really there.

Animals, Essays, stories, writing

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.

Do you believe in Dragons?

photography, Thom, Totem Animals, tribute, writing

~”There were dragons when I was a boy…”
(How To Train Your Dragon, Cressida Cowell)

I feel like I have been bathing in the Dragon Energy for quiet some time now.

The Chinese horoscope animal is the Pig this year, but not in my house.

This year we came full circle with dragons…

Dragons have been a part of so many folk stories around the world. From China, India, Europe… But where are they now?

A Cat Story…

Animals, stories

On my workshops I often share with the attendees how much I like the Rudyard Kipling story, The Cat That Walked By Himself, from Oh So Stories. you can read it Here.

Henry2_borders

This story is in a similar vein, but from Zimbabwe. It does encapsulate cats very well too… This is dedicated to all Women, Cats and Catwomen everywhere…

Once upon a time, there was a wild cat, who got tired of living alone and chose for herself a husband, another wild cat who she thought was the finest creature in all the jungle.