To Be Free

Every time we leave home,
A road full of routine we follow blindly,
Into a world that seems unchanging.
Familiar faces exchanging glances,
Old places that we remember being built,
As memories rush by of times now gone.

New places seem frightening in contrast,
In a world where nothing seems to last,
And in a blink of our eyes it is gone forever.
Everyone just wants to fit in labelled boxes,
Normal as just who wants to be different?
We are all individuals but collectively one.

We find comfort in the routine,
The intimacy shared like a loved partner,
That we trust with our every heartbeat.
With changes bringing out our distrust,
As begin to question their loyalty to us,
And reach for prayer that all will be well.

Just as we loathe the sound of Monday,
Friday always seems just out of touch,
And weekends are over far too quick.
Letting time tick with a monotone beat,
Seldom stopping to learn our rhythm,
Dancing away like an one trick pony.

Many simply call it the ‘rat race’,
But then who’s laboratory are we in?
And who are we in competition with?
Part of someone else’s experiments,
But how to escape the hidden cage,
When there are no bars to break free.

Bread to fear the change of constant,
To fly away requires thinking anew,
Going the detours with an open mind.
Following a compass of our free souls,
Discovering the hidden life that awaits,
Free to live and dance the way we want.

Travelling awakened and refreshed,
Saying yes to invitations to the new,
Returning home enriched and fortified.
Living our lives with the fullest glass
And in the moment not past or future,
With happiness written upon our faces.

© Fi S. J. Brown

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Endless

Standing at the edge of the trench,
Like a hound waiting for the hunt,
And the whistle that begins it all.

Stepping blind as go over the top,
Gunfire ringing from ear to ear,
As Armageddon calls the shots.

Turning the poppy fields to red,
With rivers of blood and tears,
All in freedom’s tasteless name.

Telling tales to remember today,
Of fallen soldiers from the past,
With most in their thankful praise.

Forgetting the traumatised ones,
Those returned forever changed,
Forever at war with their demons.

Learning answers but never learnt,
As history continues to repeat itself,
And the innocent lives lost continues.

Dreaming in the west wind of peace,
While the eastern embers burn on,
And a south just wants to be heard.

Imaging with the words of Lennon,
But know lamenting is no solution,
When hate and fear sing louder.

Pondering if there is another way,
Filled with colour, love and empathy,
And one day Planet Earth will smile.

© Fi S. J. Brown

Spring Song

Spring’s song begins today in the northern hemisphere with snowdrops ringing to wake all sleeping from their winter’s sleep. The croci playing bass, giving a rhythmic and harmonic foundation to the world. With the melody sung by the newborn wildlife throughout the land, reverberating through hills and valleys, and the trees and bushes their backing singers resplendent in their new season green clothes.
 
Every year this song can be heard but how few of us stop to see, hear and feel it? Mother Nature displaced as the leading lady, as we humans do our cover version. We insult her further by autotuning our voices as cannot sing in her unique style, colour or pitch. With footprints stamping across the world like a booming hip hop beat. Forming chorus lines full of grey, filled with drills and bombs tainted with fear, jealousy and hate.
 
© Fi S. J. Brown

A Gift

I send you this gift from me to you; a letter filled with empathy, compassion and thoughtful wishes. Indeed this letter is from your inner self, the one that lies naked in the words which follow. It comes in a brown envelope baring your name; yes the one that taunts when you heard it said in full but smile when hear it in short but not the one of yesteryear that makes your body shiver from head to foot, for I would not be so cruel.
 
My dearest Fi,
I am writing you this letter to remind you that you: No matter what your past’s stories tell of your journey to today’s date, learn from them but do not dwell. Use today as the stepping stones to the hopes and dreams to the future that belong to you and give others a helping hand along the way. Choose your battles carefully but do not fight with yourself, for she is you, so please be gentle with her.
 
See through masks that hide a person’s true being but equally put down the ones you wear yourself in fear or self hate. Your sensitivity and empathy are gifts, not curses or spells from some wicked witch out of a fairy tale. Remember not all is visible at first, like the green that hides under a pistachio’s shell, and like the ugly duckling not all shine until they have experienced years of life’s adventures.
 
Remember, I love you, and you are me,
Fi x
 
© Fi S. J. Brown

The (Un)natural World

Has the world changed or have we evolved into a new type of human being? Filled with jealous fear and hate as act as judge and jury not other’s wellbeing. No longer content to be an actor playing a part in the show that is Planet Earth. Killing others till they’re gone as turned director such is our sense of self-worth. Covering and autotuning the songs of Earth to sing in the key of human nature, and painting the world in fifty shades of grey as the brave new world’s maker.

Heavily manipulated images tell us this is what a 21st century human must be, and difference to flaws magnified as though we were some super race pedigree. Communication reduced down to words and pictures upon screens in our hands, as create fantasies of our lives, crying wolf for help and worshipping celebrity brands. Trying desperately to fit in the boxes so not alone in the wilderness to be mocked, trapping individuality forever in a room where few visited or on the door knocked.

Our foods tainted with chemicals, modified to grow in a uniform way or made in a lab, medicines causing side effects worse than the disease or perhaps prevented with a jab. With almost every new television show and movie is a re-make, take off, or sequel, where has our originality and creativity gone, may be it still sat on the artist’s easel? To be human has got quite lost in this brave new world we have now created for us, is it now time we stopped and learnt to think for ourselves before the final big hush.

© Fi S. J. Brown

F is for…

I seem to have an issue with the letter ‘F’. My own name of ‘Fiona‘ sent tears of bitterness and sadness to my teenage self, bullied and abused for being myself, which others found something to pick holes in till I felt I resembled more a Swiss cheese than a human being. “Nobody is friends with Fiona” any new pupil starting my year of high school was told, one that tried was reputed to have been pushed and shoved along a corridor for daring to try to break this. Depression often called.

This in turn lent to me turning ‘Fiona‘ into ‘Freak‘, for who would want to befriend or date this girl that looked like the love child of Frankenstein and the Hunchback of Notre Dame? I could not look in the mirror for its contents scared me that felt it would laugh back at me or even shatter to cause seven more years of misery. I had people stop and laugh in the street or in their cars pointing and laughing at me, so thought why do I not just die and end this miserable existence?

It was only through using my camera to record the world through my eyes that things started to change. I took a picture of myself in Italy and saw the real me staring back at me; nobody was laughing, pointing fingers or mocking me for having my eyes shut. However, I did not understand who this woman was and nearly did not stop to find out as decided the next year whilst on antidepressants to finally end it, jumping under a train seemed the best way to make my curtain call on life.

I was caught just in time but the misery was far from over. In the following few days I was told by family they were coming to “take me back to Scotland where I belonged”! I never felt so frightened in my life, ringing round social services to mental health helplines, nobody would answer me what I should do. Eventually I got a brother based in England to get them to stop and finally I could breath, and put down my dressing robe rope that was in hand to hang from the tree in my garden.

The years that followed I did end up back in Scotland but some things were different, I end up seeing me the woman not the ‘freak‘ of my head. She was and is highly intelligent, quirky and creative not a freak of a mad scientist that needed to be put down like a sick dog. I also learnt instead of ‘Fiona‘, my friends could use ‘Fi’ and I was mostly alright with that even if didn’t feel always me. However, the F decided it wanted to change from ‘freak‘ into a new word – ‘Failure’.

I have spent now three years with this F word teasing me like the others before it. I feel a failure to humanity, that some how I am not living life the way it is meant to be, always an outsider watching in. Unable to do the ‘normal’ things people do like gain a ‘proper‘ job or move away from where I don’t belong to having partner/companion of my own. My high school physics teacher remarked on how I could always do the advanced stuff but not the basics, which feels like an echo of my life.

However, tonight something has clicked in my head, I feel a new F word is dawning, that word is ‘fine‘. I am ‘fine‘ the way I am, not everyone leads life the same way and it is okay to follow our own path not going the same as every other one. I have no idea what my purpose to what my dreams really are, but that’s okay as I am not frightened. Where will I be this time next month or year, I do not know, but what I do know is that all will be just ‘fine’ in the end and suitably Fi-shaped.

© Fi S. J. Brown

A message to all on Planet Earth

Take away these our tears hidden deep from within,

Let them rain down on our faces like drops on leaves.

Please release their power, pain, fear and sadness,

From pains past that leave scars that only we know.

Stop the endless wars with streams of bloody hate,

Replace with rivers of love to flow between us all.

Note it is not to some divine being we ask this of,

But each other across the world, wherever we are.

Here is our white flag and hear our united words,

Enough, peace on Earth, to life that calls it home.

© Fi S. J. Brown

The rivers of war

Out from London Tower a river of red blood falls,
In memory of the fallen in wars now history books.
Each poppy is to mark a life taken far too soon,
A Sacrifice in freedom’s name for each one of us.

If we look the poppies are not just red of blood,
There are hidden colours that need to be seen.
Stems of green showing the jealousy and envy.
And black of the darkness and fear war brings.

Across the world there are many hidden rivers,
Filled with tears of pain, anger and depression.
And turned red with the blood spilt in revenge,
But where is the white of love, peace and hope?

© Fi S. J. Brown