My other brother-in-law died. He was a karate expert, then joined the army. The first time he saluted, he killed himself.
quote by Henny Youngman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To My Brother Tramaine
To my brother the one I truly love.
To my brother the one up above.
To my brother the one that was tooken away.
To my brother the one that died right away.
To my brother the crime was so insane.
To my brother of course that bullet had no name
But it chose you, ain't that a shame.
I love you brother with all my heart
and I wish things wouldn't have fallen apart.
I've missed you since the day you died
and I think about you this very day you arrived.
So I'm sending one up cause the day is yours
take it in, sit, relax, and adore.
Happy Birthday Tramaine
poem by La'Sharae Wade
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bring him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three Years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bnng him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Letter from the Sand 'Be Proud
Today I received a letter from the sand. It read Dear Sir, we regret to inform you that your brother Sgt. Andre Smith was killed two days ago in Iraq, but be proud he died a hero. Now I must read that letters a hundred times but pride never came over me but anger did. Anger that got me asking questions like is proud of what, that my big brother is no longer here? Or should I be proud that they turned my caring brother into murder all under the false flag of freedom? Be proud, I am proud and I was always proud not because Andre died as hero but I am proud because he was my brother.
Note:
This poem is not a true story. Now although my brother Andre did past away he did not die that way, but I wanted to honor him so I used his name in a poem the relates to current affairs
Died
Die my brother die
You can't see God like this,
I died my brother I died
But I saw Hell instead.
.
Kneel my brother pray
And seek atonement,
I knelt my brother I prayed,
But I got punishment instead.
.
Dance my brother sing,
And praise the Lord in highest,
I danced my brother I sang
Much more than David did.
But instead I saw the Lord in rage.
.
Don't be afraid my brother
Confront your fate,
The Lord is of mercy and kindness,
He shall forgive all your weakness,
But I summoned courage my brother
I confronted my fate.
.
Yet instead the Lord turned
His face in disgust,
And said: take him to Hades!
poem by Efe Benjamin
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For Bill - My Brother
Who was aged five when I was born
My brother
Who hid my toys and broke my dolls
My brother
Who avoided his sister at school all day
My brother
Who tolerated my teenage years
My brother
Who as an adult became a friend
My brother
Who mellowed with each passing year
My brother
Who supported my desire to immigrate
My brother
Who was there when others weren't
My brother
Who buried our parents while I was gone
My brother
Who cherished every visit I made
My brother
Who had his ticket to visit me here
My brother
Who unexpectedly died this year
My brother
poem by Evelyn Macdonald
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I really love the karate thing I did on CHIPs. I studied with a trainer because I knew we'd do episodes that had karate.
quote by Erik Estrada
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Expert
An expert magician
practices his
magic
An expert card
dealer
deals his cards
carefully
An expert tailor
measures twice
cuts once
sews once
perfection
An expert husband
takes great pride
in his wife.
poem by Heather Burns
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I joined the Army and was sent to the MIT radiation laboratory after a few months of introduction to electromagnetic wave theory in a special course, given for Army personnel at the University of Chicago.
quote by Jack Steinberger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One's Silence Is Saluted
One's silence is saluted,
When removed from loops seduced.
One's silence is saluted...
When refusing automatic passes,
Boots one from the coop.
A sharing of erratic static,
Can confine like minds.
A sharing of erratic static,
Ropes and dopes...
Whomever gives it time.
One can feel terrific when removed from such lists!
With nothing shared specifc,
But...
Limited nonsense!
One's silence is saluted,
When booted out the coop.
One's silence is saluted,
When a looping is refused.
One can feel terrific when removed from such lists!
With nothing shared specifc,
But...
Limited nonsense!
A sharing of erratic static,
Can confine like minds.
A sharing of erratic static,
Ropes and dopes...
Whomever gives it time.
One's silence is saluted,
When removed from loops seduced.
One's silence is saluted...
When refusing automatic passes,
Boots one from the coop.
One's silence is saluted,
When booted out the coop.
One's silence is saluted,
When a looping is refused.
A sharing of erratic static,
Can confine like minds.
A sharing of erratic static,
Ropes and dopes...
Whomever gives it time.
One's silence is saluted,
When booted out the coop.
One's silence is saluted,
When a looping is refused.
One's silence is saluted,
When booted out the coop.
One's silence is saluted,
When booted out the coop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To be trained in karate is something because karate is a vicious thing. If you are any good at it, you can kill somebody with it. It is a vicious way to fight.
quote by Thomas Foran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I also had a brother who was like me a musician and a composer. A man of great talent, far more gifted than I. He died very young... he killed himself in the prime of his life.
quote by Gustav Mahler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All The Love I Ever Had
Key c all the love I ever had written and recorded by hank williams
(c) one time you know I (g7) loved you (c) true,
There was (g7) nothing I wouldnt (c) do,
But you have treated me so (f) bad,
You killed (c) all the (g7) love I ever (c) had.
You leave me alone and run around,
You were the talk of the town,
It made you glad to see me sad,
You killed all the love I ever had.
No one knows the torture I went through,
Loving you and knowing you were untrue,
Its over now and Im so glad,
You killed all the love I ever had.
All these years Ive set and cried,
A thousand times my poor soul died,
You have treated me so bad,
You killed all the love I ever had.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time Heals all
when my brother had a bad car crash and nearly died
i was told to give it time
time heals all
one after another my four grandparents died
i was told to give it time
time heals all
when a mates brother hung himself
i was told to give it time
time heals all
when my friend turned her back and distroyed my life
i was told to give it time
time heals all
when i got epilepsy and lost peoples trust
i was told to give it time
time heals all
when i got depressed and lost control of my life
i was told to give it time
time heals all
i gave it time
but i'm not healed
so when dose time help
when do people stop relying on time
and get off there butts and help
cause time dosen't heal all on its own
Good man / bad man
Good man died once
Bad man died and killed
So many times
Before finally died.
Good man died in peace
Bad man died in pain.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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My Army, O, My Army!
My Army, O, my army! The time I dreamed of comes!
I want to see your colours; I want to hear your drums!
I heard them in my boyhood when all men’s hearts seemed cold;
I heard them as a Young Man—and I am growing old!
My army, O, my army! The signs are manifold!
My army, O, my army! My army and my Queen!
I used to sing your battle-songs when I was seventeen!
They came to me from ages, they came from far and near;
They came to me from Paris, they came to me from Here!—
They came when I was marching with the Army of the Rear.
My Queen’s dark eyes were flashing (oh, she was younger then!);
My Queen’s Red Cap was redder than the reddest blood of men!
My Queen marched like an Amazon, with anger manifest—
Her dark hair darkly matted from a knifegash in her breast
(For blood will flow where milk will not—her sisters knew the rest).
My legions ne’er were listed, they had no need to be;
My army ne’er was trained in arms—’twas trained in misery!
It took long years to mould it, but war could never drown
The shuffling of my army’s feet in the hunger-haunted town—
A little child was murdered, and so Tyranny went down.
My army kept no order, my army kept no time;
My army dug no trenches, yet died in dust and slime;
Its troops were fiercely ignorant, as to the manner born;
Its clothes were rags and tatters, or patches worn and torn—
Ah, me! It wore a uniform that I have often worn!
The faces of my army were ghastly as the dead;
My army’s cause was Hunger, my army’s cry was “Bread!”
It called on God and Mary and Christ of Nazareth;
It cried to kings and courtesans that fainted at its breath—
Its women beat their poor, flat breasts where babes had starved to death.
My army! My army—I hear the sound of drums
Above the roar of battles—and, lo! my army comes!
Nor creed of man may stay it—nor war, nor nation’s law—
The pikes go through the firing-lines as pitchforks go through straw—
Like pitchforks through the litter, while empires stand in awe.
poem by Henry Lawson
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A Confession from the Jailhouse
I killed my brother in a dream
And heard my mother sob and scream
For me to stop and spare his life
And put away that carving knife.
My brother was an upright man,
The successful type who always can
Elicit praise from everyone
For all the good things they have done.
He never gambled, never lied,
And never showed a bit of pride
Though he achieved far more than most -
No, I never heard my brother boast.
He was his parents hope and joy
From when he was a little boy,
And yet I claim he was a thief
Who brought me so much pain and grief.
I met a lass and fell in love
And promised by the stars above
That I'd be faithful, always true,
And worship her my whole life through.
She met my brother at a dance,
He smiled at her and took his chance,
My 'noble' brother stole from me
The girl I loved so jealously.
Alas, my dream became a fact
That night I callously attacked
My brother with a kitchen knife
Because I knew he'd steal my wife.
Now they have locked me in a cell
When I should surely burn in Hell,
I killed a better man than me
And they will never set me free.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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He Is An Expert (Fun Poem 130)
Someone showed him
how to lay a brick
and overnight he became
an expert bricklayer.
One lesson was all he needed.
One day he helped fix a puncture
on one of his car tyres,
then he went to bed
and when he woke up,
he was an expert motor mechanic.
Everything he does
no matter what it is,
he only has to do it once
and he is an expert
or so he thinks he is.
There are so many experts
it is had to find a real one
from all the wannabes
and the know it alls
that surround us everyday.
poem by David Harris
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My dear Kitty
That day I found you
That day I became blue
The day I was balling
the day my heart was falling
That day you was leaving
Was my first day of grieving
That day you looked me in the eyes
Was the day I heard your cries
The day you died
Was the first time I cried
The day I had to bury you
It was the hardest thing to let go of you.
That day I screamed dont die
Was the day I left you lie....
That day the dog bite you
was the day I almost killed him
That day you died.
Was not the last day I cried
The day God had set for you
Was the day I will never forget who,
That day I let you out,
was the day I found out
How much I regret it,
For I must admit
I miss you sooo,
That Its jus to hard to show.
That day you died
Was not the first or last time I cried!
poem by Jade Smith
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Sonnet: A Bit More Struggle Will Pay Rich Dividends
Now ain't the time to relax much, brother;
Now is the time to work harder than ev 'r;
About your neighbour, never much bother,
Now is the time to be very clever.
‘Tis ain't correct to retire unhurt;
A stupid man leaves half-way through a game;
In some more time, you can be an expert;
The world will acknowledge your work with fame.
Now is the time to go into top-gear;
Now is the time to sweat from your fore-head;
The future should not cast in you a fear;
Now is the time to be never misled.
Great things are done when man works with courage;
A Bird to fly must come out of its cage.
poem by John Celes
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