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Fee Berry Feb 2018
Our future isn’t written in stone
It is written in the trees
In the water
In our hearts
It is ever changing and expanding
As our intentions
As our compassion
As our greed

We cannot stand apart to change it
We must cleave together
Hold one another
In our hearts
With love that never changes
Forge the future
Forge the path we hope to follow
Forge a greener destination

If we lay waste to the present
What will be left for those who follow on?
We choose life
In our hearts
Or we choose ourselves
Selfish desire or service to tomorrow
Live the change
Be the change
Or consign the future to the desert
FB 17.2.16
Fee Berry Feb 2018
I remember childhood panic
My sister as a cowboy
Chasing around the garden
Bang bang, you're dead

I remember that fear today
Weeping over other people's children
Imagining their pain
Bang bang, they're dead

I want to comfort them
But there is nothing to say
Nothing to do, nothing changes
Bang bang, we're dead

Guns don't **** people, they say
People **** people, they say
But, see, they make it easy
Bang bang, they're dead
24.7.2011/8.2.2018 Fee
I started this poem after the massacre in Norway, but it was too painful then to complete.  So it was started 24.7.11 and completed 8.2.18
Fee Berry Jan 2018
Lives ripped up and torn apart
Men this way and women that.
Children learning to regard starvation as normal.
And a minute for each of the victims makes
Eleven and a half years' silence.

Skull-like faces starved of food,
Starved of love, starved of light.
Bones like cartoon skeletons
Covered with a sort of skin, make
Eleven and a half years' silence.

Man's inhumanity to man,
Didn't begin with ******, nor end
It rises up and gets defeated,
Though war's a poor answer for any question - as is
Eleven and a half years' silence.

The best memorial, the best commemoration
Is not silence but shouting to be heard.
Be strong, stand up for right, for others,
For love, for compassion. Better by far than
Eleven and a half years' silence.
Fee Berry 28.1.18
It was the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz on the day before I wrote the poem, which arose when someone tweeted that a minutes silence for each of the victims of the holocaust would result in eleven and a half years' silence.  The words had a pace and meaning which drove the poem.
Fee Berry Apr 2013
A jumble of memories
A feeling of warmth
Dreamlike, escaping
I struggle to wake.

A cascade of snapshots
Darkly edged moments
A vagueness, like seeking
A word in the void.

A hypnotic gathering
Of previous faces
A channelled remembering
People who lived.

The here and the now
Are eternally mine
I cannot escape them
I cannot divine.

Live in the moment
Love in the now
Reach out for each other
And never say die.
Fee Berry May 2012
It's raining tonight
Smearing the light down the window
as though the paint hasn't dried on the night

It's raining...
Is it raining where you are?
I can feel the rain wet upon my face...

Many miles apart
You are in your eyrie alone and asleep,
I am imagining you there, me there, us together, tonight

It's raining...
Is it raining where you are?
I am hearing the rain, in my heart

The moon, the same moon
Stares down at me, and watches over you
I take comfort from the silver moonlight falling on us both

It's raining...
Is it raining where you are?
I'm seeing the rain illuminated by the moon, sparkling underfoot

Lonely, I'm lonely
Sitting here, awake, alone... longing.
I am imagining me there, you here, us together always

It's raining...
Is it raining where you are?
I love the smell of rain in the grass at night

Can I take the step toward you,
Out into the night?
Can I take the step to another life
That may mend or break my heart?
Can I take you from your life, make you step lightly into mine?
Can I live without you still?

It's raining...
Is it raining where you are?
I can taste the rain, salt upon my tongue....
Fee Berry May 2012
These other people
This other life
They trip to France or Italy
Or die or leave their wife

These other people
That other life
The one I might have lived
The one without the strife

Those other people
And their tidy lives
Their tidy houses
Their tidy wives

Those other people
And their messy lives
Their dead husbands
Their missing wives

I find...
The life of a famous actress
As far from my life
As those memoirs of drug runners
Or the stories from refugees
Fleeing unthinkable brutality.  

My life...
Potters on from day to day
No big tragedies
No big triumphs...
Unless a word here
And a phone call there
Could count as either.
Fee Berry May 2012
To live and let live,
To know that my passion isn't your passion
To allow you to believe what you believe
As long as it harms no one
To do as I would be done by
And to wrestle with that question if you behave in a way that
I never would.


To love
To try to see that of God in everyone
Me and God is all that there is,
And all that there ever will be.
To try to remember that other person is God,
And if He needs my help,
To be there for him.
To be there for me too, because
Loving thy neighbour as thyself
Cuts both ways.

To forgive
To judge not, that I be not judged
Even when the culture I live in regards judgement as a skill
To forgive myself also because
Loving thy neighbour as thyself
Cuts both ways

To walk the walk and not just
Talk the talk
To live my beliefs and not just espouse them
To show light at work
Not simply to cast a shadow with it
To walk in the light and lighten it.
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