The Hands

People walk on by hands lifted in melancholy lost hope,
Sinking their faces deeper in their phone’s black mirror.
Car horns make a syncopated rhythm to echo the pain,
But the conversed words drop to whispered exchanges.

Signs written in ink or maybe blood with last thoughts,
Washed away with the falling rain and endless tears.
Lifting a hat now as threadbare as the shaking hands,
But its scattered bronzed coins are kicked in laughter.

A forgotten hero that not even he now knows his name,
Gave all he had to protect but gave himself nightmares.
Every day he sits in the daytime with his hands stretched,
Hoping one day someone will take them to dance again.

By night he walks the streets trying to find his way back,
Or a key to a time machine to stop the groundhog day.
The invisible brother, cousin, father or uncle to anyone,
Who’s hands only want to feel warmth and love again.

© Fi S. J. Brown

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Some days

Some days I wish I could fly up high like a bluebird
Everything flowing freely without any tainted word.
No mouldy air or stagnant water to hold me back,
And let me finally follow that old yellow brick track.
 
Some days I am drowning in a sea of forest green,
Attacked by the branches of the woodland queen.
Cannot see the wood from the hundreds of trees,
Needing an axe clear my view and unlock the keys.
 
Some days I feel like an actor that forgot their lines,
Missing subtle prompts and ignoring warning signs.
Trashing and trivialising any of my achievements,
But count my failures like individual bereavements.
 
Some days I wake up to find a smile upon my face,
As realise that it is okay to be a tortoise in the race.
Bursting the balloons of self doubt and losing fears,
Listening to the wise birds with their comforting ears.
 
Some days I sing with the dawn chorus for being alive,
And feel refreshed in the morning dew as I take a dive
Ready a new to take on the world whatever it will bring,
Tying up any problems or puzzles with some old string.
 
© 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