To My Brother Miguel In Memoriam
Brother, today I sit on the brick bench of the house,
where you make a bottomless emptiness.
I remember we used to play at this hour, and mama
caressed us: "But, sons..."
Now I go hide
as before, from all evening
lectures, and I trust you not to give me away.
Through the parlor, the vestibule, the corridors.
Later, you hide, and I do not give you away.
I remember we made ourselves cry,
brother, from so much laughing.
Miguel, you went into hiding
one night in August, toward dawn,
but, instead of chuckling, you were sad.
And the twin heart of those dead evenings
grew annoyed at not finding you. And now
a shadow falls on my soul.
Listen, brother, don't be late
coming out. All right? Mama might worry.
poem by Cesar Vallejo
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Related quotes
Brother, I remember the old games we play
Hide and seek on evenings when mother is busy
Before we sleep
It is you who knows to hide so well
And I cannot always find you
You win
I lose and you take pride of your skill
In hiding away
There was this time in our lives
When we both hid
And fought and stood on some idealisms
Like rocks against the sea
Like towers standing against cyclones
Like the tree against the winds of
Change,
I failed, I hid and fought and I was caught
To this renewal
But you brother has fought hard enough and
Hides with all the skill you have
They never found you
We never found you
Come out brother now, in peace
Mama is dead; there is no use of these fights
Times have changed
Our thoughts have become useless
Come out, brother now,
The land is finally ours
We shall start to clean and plow.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Where was my brother
Where was my brother when I needed him there?
Does he think I don’t notice or assume I don’t care?
Where was my bother it was once him and once me?
But now at some bad times it’s him I don’t see.
Where was my brother who’s back I once had?
You were the brother to count on the good times and bad.
Where was my brother by my side he should be?
He should be right here why can’t I see?
Where was my brother when I needed him most?
Now when I look to my side all I see is his ghost.
Where was my brother did I bring shame?
Does he remember me now, does he remember my name?
Where was my brother waiting to long for his call?
So I put up a brick on my emotional wall.
Where was my brother, its his court its his ball?
Guess my brother has proved he’s no brother at all.
poem by Empty Shell
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Stains
The three ghosts on the lonesome road
Spake each to one another,
"Whence came that stain about your mouth
No lifted hand may cover?"
"From eating of forbidden fruit,
Brother, my brother."
The three ghosts on the sunless road
Spake each to one another,
"Whence came that red burn on your foot
No dust nor ash may cover?"
"I stamped a neighbor's hearth-flame out,
Brother, my brother."
The three ghosts on the windless road
Spake each to one another,
"Whence came that blood upon your hand
No other hand may cover?"
"From breaking of a woman's heart,
Brother, my brother."
"Yet on the earth clean men we walked,
Glutton and Thief and Lover;
White flesh and fair it hid our stains
That no man might discover."
"Naked the soul goes up to God,
Brother, my brother."
poem by Theodosia Garrison
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Sleeping for the Flag
When our boys come home in triumph, brother,
With the laurels they shall gain;
When we go to give them welcome, brother,
We shall look for you in vain.
We shall wait for your returning, brother,
Though we know it cannot be;
For your comrades left you sleeping, brother,
Underneath a southern tree.
Sleeping to waken
In this weary world no more;
Sleeping for your true-lov'd country, brother,
Sleeping for the flag you bore.
You were the first on duty, brother,
When "to arms" your leader cried--
You have left the ranks forever, brother,
You have laid your armies aside.
From the awful scenes of battle, brother,
You were set forever free,
When your comrades left you sleeping, brother,
Underneath that southern tree.
You have cross'd the clouded river, brother,
To the mansions of the best,
"When the wicked cease from troubling," brother,
"And the weary are at rest."
Surely we would not recall you, brother,
But the tears flow fast and free,
When we think of you sleeping, brother,
Underneath a southern tree.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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my brother PJ
My brother my life, my soul, my blood. A love between a sister and a brother is far beyond any. My brother a creation of God and the unexplainable mysters of his work. My brother was molded by the tender guiding hands, love and sprit of our divine Lord above.
My brother was given life a soul body and mind. This great myster of life that was created is slowly weathering away with the poision, That Doctors call cancer. He is my brother a young man of 34 who has to fight for the life that was giving. With a smile on my face to hide the pain, and Our great Lord in my heart i think God for one more day that my brother is able to see. Though are hearts my break and we may question one of lifes greats mysteries just remember God will not give you anything that you are unable to handle, Have faith and let him guid your heart. he will never let you falter. Thank you thank God for you my; brother
poem by Oscar Fuentes
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I Remember
Writer Dolly Parton
Copyright 1973
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember meadows and fields of golden wheat
I remember songbirds and sugar cane so sweet
I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember gingerbread my mama used to bake
And I remember home made toys that daddy used to make
Yes I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And our little country home they filled with love
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And all the things they did to make life happier for us
Yes I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember candy that daddy used to bring I remember songs my mama used to sing
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And how they taught us children right from wrong
I remember mama and daddy most of all
How they used to hope and pray they'd live to see us grown
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all most of all
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cory B
I love my little brother he
was there for all my struggle
we had so me many ups and
down I love my little brother
we never separate from each other
as we walk shoulder to shoulder
I got his back he has mine he's
all I need to defend whats ours
I love my little brother now we
getting older we start to understand
one another better you remember
how was use to be geeked to go to the
park and ball hard now look at you playing
with them books and ball I love my little
brother but he's not little anymore
he turned into man I remember I
use to hold his hands now I putting
money in his hands I love my little
brother he aint gotta worry about
no trouble coming his way cause
he troubles are my trouble and my
hustle is his hustle I love my little
brother so think twice about fucking
with my little brother and remember
he gotta big brother that love him like
a pair of jay's I swear I love my little
brother just look at HIM in school living out
a dream I use to dream playing ball
and staying up late studying with his
back up against the wall wondering where
the next dollar coming for shit just call
your big brother cause I love you little
brother and I got ya little nigga so he'll
never miss a fresh pair of jay's or af1's
'and I'll come up to Parkside to beat a nigga
ass lol but true' I love my brother
poem by Randy Bullocks
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Got To Give It Up
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Tell my mama and tell my pa
That their fine young son didnt get far
He made it to the end of a bottle
Sitting in a sleazy bar
He tried hard but his spirit broke
He tried until he nearly choked
In the end he lost his
Bottle drinking alcohol
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Tell my brother I tried to write and
Put pen to paper but I was frightened
I couldnt seem to get the words out right
Right quite right
Tell my sister Im sinking slow
Now and again I powder my nose
In the end I lost my bottle
It smashed in a casbah
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive been messing with the heavy stuff
For a time I couldnt get enough
But Im waking up and its wearing off
Junk dont take you far
Tell my mama Im coming home
In my youth Im getting older
And I think its lost control
Mama Im coming home
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If God Could Give Us A New Brother?
If God could give us a new brother?
What type of broyher would he give us?
Would he be a very friendly brother?
If God could give us a new brother?
It would be nice to have a brother that listens to us
If God could give us a new brother?
Could he be our friend?
Could he share his feelings with us?
If God could give us a new brother?
Could he stop to put us down?
Could he show us his love?
If God could give us a new brother?
It would be impossible
Because there would had to be our mother and father
They would be the ones that could do it through God
Now it is history for us
Unless it is a friend that is humble
A friend that has some feelings and understanding
He could be our new brother
Brothers we can never change
Or get rid of
They are a part of us
Weather we like it or not
poem by Aldo Kraas
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To L. H. B. (1894-1915 )
Last night for the first time since you were dead
I walked with you, my brother, in a dream.
We were at home again beside the stream
Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red.
"Don't touch them: they are poisonous," I said.
But your hand hovered, and I saw a beam
Of strange, bright laughter flying round your head
And as you stooped I saw the berries gleam.
"Don't you remember? We called them Dead Man's
Bread!"
I woke and heard the wind moan and the roar
Of the dark water tumbling on the shore.
Where--where is the path of my dream for my eager
feet?
By the remembered stream my brother stands
Waiting for me with berries in his hands...
"These are my body. Sister, take and eat."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Killer/papa Was A Rollin Stone
So you want to be free
To live your life the way you wanna be
Will you give if we cry
Will we live or will we die
Tainted hearts heal with time
Shoot bad love so we can
Stop the bleeding
Solitary brother,
Is there still a part of you that wants to live?
Solitary sister,
Is there still a part of you that wants to give?
Solitary brother,
Is there still a part of you that wants to live?
Solitary sister,
Is there still a part of you that wants to give?
If we try to live our lives
The way we wanna be
Solitary brother,
Is there still a part of you that wants to live?
Solitary sister,
Is there still a part of you that wants to give?
Solitary brother,
Is there still a part of you that wants to live?
Solitary sister,
Is there still a part of you that wants to give?
Racism in future kins can only lead to no good
And besides, all our sons and daughters already
Know how that feels
(adam tinley/henry samuel)
Was the third of september
That day Ill always remember, yes I will
cause that was the day that my daddy died
Never had a chance to see him, no
Never heard nothing but bad things about him
Mama, Im depending on you to tell me the truth
Mama just hung her head and said
Chorus
Papa was a rollin stone
Wherever he laid his hat was his home
And when he died
All he left us was alone
(repeat)
Hey, mama, is it true what they say
That papa never worked aday in his life
Some bad talk going around sayin
Papa had three outside children
And another wife
That aint right
Heard some talk about papa and his storefront
Preachin
Talkin about saving souls and all the time
Leachin
And dealing in dirt
Stealin in the name of the lord
But mama she just said
Chorus
Say I heard my papa was a jack of all trades
Is that what papa sent to an early grave?
Folks say papa would beg, borrow or steal just
To pay his bills
Hey, mama, folks say papa was never much in thinkin
Spent most of his time chasin women and drinkin
But mother, Im depending on you
To tell me the truth
But my mama she just said
Chorus (2x)
(norman whitfield/barrett strong)
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blood That Binds...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
Brother...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
To My Brother...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
Lifelong Bonds...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
He Is My Blood...
More than the blood of my blood. He is my friend,
my rock...my brother.
Brother, in times of need, never judging, always there.
My Brother, could, would, always make things right.
Brother, never made much ado, about the task at
hand...he just did it.
Brother, who lifted me, when I was down.
Brother, who brought the laughter, amid the pain.
Brother, the word he never spoke...was 'no'.
Brother, who had the answers, to my questions.
Brother, who by example, did walk the path of right.
Brother, in all my years...in all my life, never have
I met another...like my loving brother.
Confessions of a Bound Soul
Brother, my brother,
How selfish was I
While you seemed to struggle,
I sat idly by
Brother, my brother
Yes, try as I might
I now realize
It was also my fight
Brother, my brother
Now look at your arm
It's cold and immovable
Lost all its charm
Brother, my brother
Now look at your leg
There's so much left missing
Yet not once did you beg
Brother, my brother
Though I lost more in mass
It is you far more haunted
By our mistakes in the past
Brother, dear brother
Listen when I say
I will stick by your side
Until this goes away
Brother, dear brother
Listen when I say
I will stick by your side
Until our final day
poem by Amanda Saveley
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John Robinson
AIR -- "The Drunkard"
Come listen, friends, and hear a song,
It is a doleful one,
About a young man, dead and gone --
He died far away from home.
John Robinson this young man's name,
His age I cannot tell,
And he was loved by all his friends,
And he was known full well.
His father and mother being dead,
It left him an orphan boy,
When he was with his brother
His health failed him, poor boy.
Kind friends they thought 'twould do him good
To travel for his health;
To California he did go
With his Uncle Zera French.
He was not gone but a short time
When a letter his friends received;
It told how homesick Johnny was,
How he for home did grieve.
It said that he was getting worse,
And his money was nearly gone,
And if he did not soon return
Never more would he see home.
It said, "Dear Brother, will you please
Some money to me send,
For I fear I have not got enough
To bring me back again.
The doctor says I must soon return,
If I wish my home to see,
For if I stay my life is short,
For the air disagrees with me."
His brother Will the letter read,
It made his eyes grow dim.
"Dear brother, he shall soon return,
For I will go and fetch him."
This brother dear was very kind;
With money, he went with haste
For to bring him home again,
But Oh! he went too late.
For he was sick, and very bad --
Poor boy, he thought, no doubt,
If he came home in a smoking car
His money would hold out.
He started to come back alone --
He came one-third the way --
One evening in the car alone
His spirit fled away.
No friend was near to speak to him,
Or hear his dying moan;
How sad, how sad it must have been
To die there all alone;
No loving friends to soothe his brow,
Or ease his weary form;
Poor soul, poor soul is now at rest,
For his soul to heaven has gone.
Telegraph dispatch was sent his friends --
How sad were they to hear --
How their loved one died all alone,
In a car with no one near.
The brother brought his body home
To his friends that loved him best.
He's sleeping in their grave yard now
Let peace be e'er his rest.
poem by Julia A Moore
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My brother.
My brother's so sweet
in time's of need.
my brother's so responsible
he taught me a lot of things.
my brother's so funny
we even teared from laughing.
my brother's so fierce
don't mess with him when hes angry.
my brother fell in love
and he's very very happy.
my brother made up his mind
and had a nice sweet family.
my brother is far away
i'm sad when i think of him.
but the most I love about
my brother hes always there for me
when I need him the most.
I'm Tired Of Life
I'm tired, I'm tired of life, brother!
Of all that meets my eye;
And my weary spirit fain would pass
To worlds beyond the sky.
For there is naught on earth, brother,
For which I'd wish to live;
Not all the glittering gauds of wealth
One hour of peace can give.
I'm weary,--sick at heart, brother,
Of heartless pomp and show!
And ever comes some cloud to dim
The little joy I know.
This world is not the world, brother,
It seemed in days agone,
When I viewed it through the rainbow mists
Of childhood's rosy dawn.
I would not pain your heart, brother--
I know you love me well;
And that love is laid upon my soul,
E'en as a holy spell.
But I'm weary of this world, brother,
This world of sin and care;
And my spirit fluttereth to be free,
To mount the upper air!
I know not of the world, brother,
To which I wish to go;
And perhaps my soul may there awake
To know a deeper woe!
They say the pure of earth, brother,
Find there undying bliss;
While all the wicked ones are cast
Into a dark abyss!
I look upon the stars, brother,
That gem the vault of blue;
And when they tell me 'God is love,'
I feel it must be true;
For I see on all around, brother,
The impress of a hand
That blendeth and uniteth all
In one harmonious band.
I am that which I am, brother,
As the Creator made;
To _Him_, all-holy and all-pure,
No fault can e'er be laid.
He knows my weakness well, brother,
And I can trust his love
To bear me safe through Jordan's stream
To brighter worlds above.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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