I Had a Little Brother Once
Had a little brother once
Died at six months old
Tears fell but all was not well
With family at home
Barely remember
His face his smile
I was only five years old
When angels took him away
Mum cried for days
Dad yelled and screamed
Why was he taken away?
I could neither cry
Or shout out why
To young to understand
Just merely watched
The heartache and pain
As we grieved
With each passing day
Soft brown eyes
Gentle soul
That's all I could remember
Of my little brother
Another lost young soul
I sit and ponder
What would he be like?
To discover this land
If he was still here
At home were he belonged
All misty eyed
I start to cry
And wish you were here
Besides your family
And your friends
poem by Kaila George
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Girl On A Train
Waking on a train, dreaming
Charmed alone, they started speaking
Captured in his artist way
Before the memories fade away
To remember a face
Oooh, and youre home or want to
Certain they would meet soon
Paint a portrait of a family
To remember a face
Oooh, and youre home
Single light on
Single way
Single light away
To remember a face
Oooh, and youre home, the night fell
Saw a painting on the stairwell
To mourn the passing of a daughter dear
Her soul, upon the train, so far, so near
To remember a face
Oooh, and youre home
Single light on
Single way
Single light away
Single light on
Single way
And oooh, and youre home
Just close your eyes and youre home
Just give you time, and youre home
Oooh, and youre home
Oooh, and youre home
Oooh
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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When I Was Young I Cried
When I was young I cried when I was sad, when I was young I cried when I was happy, when I was young I cried when I wanted something, when I was young I cried when I was lonely, when I was young I cried when I had to say goodbye, when I was young I cried when my feelings were hurt, when I was young I cried when I wasn't accepted, when I was young I cried when I was mocked, when I was young I cried for attention, when I was young I cried when I was scared, when I was young I cried when I hurt others, when I was young I cried when I felt physical pain, when I was young I cried when I was jealous, when I was young I cried when I lost someone or when I was lost somewhere, when I was young I cried when I didn't know, and now as an adult I cry because I understand.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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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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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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Our Brother John
He left Ireland in nineteen fifty two
Our brother John the man I barely knew
He was the eldest of the family
And the Homeland he was never more to see.
In life our brother John he journeyed far
He lived through peace time and he lived through war
In Korea with the Air Force of the U.S.A.
Far distant from the fields of Claraghatlea.
One of my sisters Mary wrote to me
She said our brother died with dignity
In death as in his life he showed his bravery
And at least now of his sufferings he's free.
Our brother John left two sons and a wife
And he worked hard all of his working life
Only in his sixties he seemed young to die
He was my hero when I was a boy.
From Millstreet thousands of sea miles away
Our brother John in a distant graveyard lay
And though I'd not seen him for more than thirty years
The news of his passing reduced me to tears.
He was the quiet man never spoke too loud
And of our brother John we felt so proud
In his death from his sufferings he found his release
And may he rest forevermore in peace.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Brown Eyed Girl
Hey where did we go, days when the rains came
down in the hollow
playin' the new game
laughin' and a runnin' hey hey
skippin' an a jumpin'
in the misty morning fog
my hearts a thumpin and you
my brown eyed girl
you my brown eyed girl
So what ever happened
to tuesday at the show
gone down the old man with a
transista radio
standin in the sunlight laughing
hiding hind the rainbow wall
slippin' and a slidin'
all along the waterfall
with you my brown eyed girl
you my brown eyed girl
do you remember when we used to sing
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
la ti dah
so hard to find my way
now that all on my own
i saw you just the other day
oh my you have grown
cast from every backround law
sometime over come thikin bout ya
makin' love in the green grass
behind the stadium young with you
my brown eyed girl
you my brown eyed girl
do you remember when we used to sing
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
la ti dah
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tale of Elsinore
A little child stood thinking, sorrowfully and ill at ease,
In a forest beneath the branches of the tall pine trees -
And his big brown eyes with tears seemed dim,
While one soft arm rested on a huge dog close by him.
And only four summers had passed o'er his baby head,
And, poor little child, his twin brother was dead,
Who had died but a few days before,
And now he must play alone, for he'd see him no more.
And for many generations 'tis said for a truth
That the eldest bairn of the Cronberg family died early in youth,
Owing to a curse that pursued them for many a day,
Because the Cronberg chief had carried a lovely maiden away,
That belonged, 'tis said, to the bold Viking chief,
And her aged mother could find no relief;
And she cursed the Cronberg family in accents wild,
For the loss of her darling, beautiful child.
So at last the little child crept back to its home,
And entered the silent nursery alone,
Where he knew since morning his twin brother had lain,
But, alas! they would never walk hand in hand again.
And, pausing breathless, he gazed into the darkened room,
And there he saw in the dark gloom
The aged Gudrun keeping her lonely watch o'er the dead,
Sad and forlorn at the head of the bed.
Then little Olaf sprang joyfully into the room,
And bounding upon the bed, not fearing the corpse in the gloom;
And crept close beside the white form,
That was wont to walk by his side night and morn.
And with his dimpled hands his brother he did stroke,
And with grief his little heart almost broke;
And he whispered in baby talk his brother's name,
But, alas! to him no answer came.
But his good old nurse let little Olaf be,
The more it was very sad to see;
But she could not check the child, nor on him frown,
And as she watched him, the tears came trickling down.
Then Olaf cried, "Oh, nursey, when will he speak again?"
And old Gudrun said, "My lamb,'tis all in vain,
He is singing sweet songs with the angels now,"
And kissed him fondly on cheek and brow.
And the same evening, Olaf wandered out on the green,
Which to him and his brother oft a playground had been;
And lying down on the messy bank, their old play place,
He fell asleep with a heavenly smile upon his face.
And as he slept if seemed to him an angel drew near,
And bending o'er him seemed to drop a tear,
And swept his closed eyes with her downy wing,
Then in whispers softly she did sing -
"Love God and be good to all, and one day
You'll meet your brother in Heaven in grand array,
On that bright and golden happy shore,
Where you and your brother shall part no more."
Then the angel kissed him and vanished away,
And Olaf started to his feet in great dismay;
Then he turned his eyes to Heaven, for his heart felt sore,
And from that day the house of Cronberg was cursed no more.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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I Remember...
I remember that day all to well
I remember how you fell
I remember that hospital room to this day
I remember what you would say
I remember the hope in your eyes
I remember the last time I saw you alive
I remember my unknowing last words to you-I love you
I remember the day you died
I remember the tears I cried
I remember you always and forever
poem by Ashley Kenny
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Brother Brother
Brother Brother
Please Come Back Home
I Wish We All Would Have Known
Brother Brother
Why Arent You Here?
You Diddnt Have Anything To Fear
Things Would Have Gotten Better
Throught This Past Painful Year
You Took Your Own Life Brother
Just Like So Many Others
Your Family Just Looks At Pictures And Has To Stare
Thats The Only Way We See You And Its Just Not Fair
We All Miss Your Big Smile
That You Had On Your Face Every Day
I Love You Sister
The Words You Said Every Single Day
I Miss The Way You HUgged Me
The Way You Would Always Be There
Now Once Again All I Do Is sit and Stare
poem by Heather Hesse
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RAP I She
She was born in a family of six
She was the fourth one
She looked tall while in the cradle, was raised like angel
She started going to school
And I don’t know what school she went
Full of hopes and playing with her dolls, her parents of good nature
And one day she heard there was another woman in her home
Her father had married another time, her mother went mad
Her father celebrated the nuptial night
She could feel, after a long time, I saw her again
She had to pay her school fee
In the hope she becomes a doctor
After long efforts, she could not make it that way
And one day she came with her brother
Lost looks and gazing into space
Looking at other children that how they were enjoying
Their youthful lives
She accompanied by her brother, who looked more, a village boy
The brother younger who had no sense of direction
Was out of tune
It reminded me les miserables of the Victor Hugo
I could not imagine, disasters happen so near to the dears
I felt devastated with the thought that the same could happen to me also
What lies in her future, we leave it to her luck but what’s written on her face
The gentleness of her soul and her brother’s eyes
The two young angels, I pray to succeed in life
11/9/2008
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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My 'So Called' Family
They were cool
They were real
Now they take us for a fool
Hey, I'm jus telling u how i feel
Around my family I have to act fake
I'm not talkin bout my mother or my so called brother
for cry sake
To my family I'm jus anotha
They'll smile to ur face
and talk behind ur back
but they'll neva kno their place
and why I try to keep this family in tack
We're tired of this
drama, on my mother'z side
To me, it felt we all got dissed
Since my grandmother died
My grandmother was the glue that holds everythng 2gatha
but when she passed it all fell apart
and that's when I said bye to my family 4eva
If only they could find the love in their heart
Then they would understand how I feel
Then there will be no more pain
and only love to steal
and they could be flushed down the drain
poem by Cece Chisolm
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On My Way Home
I have been given
One moment from heaven
As I am walking
Surrounded by night
Stars high above me
Make a wish under moonlight
On my way home
I remember only good days
On my way home
I remember all the best days
On my way home
I can remember every new day
I move in silence
With each step taken
Snow falling round me
Like angels in flight
Far in the distance
Is my wish under moonlight
On my way home
I remember only good days
On my way home
I remember all the best days
On my way home
I can remember every new day
song performed by by Enya from The Memory Of Trees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Boy Dies
When one boy dies
in a land far away
from home, from family
what can we say?
Sorry, too bad, what a shame
or shout to the world his given name?
My son, my son, my son why you?
My dad, my dad what will I do?
Brother, brother, oh God no!
My husband, my husband. It can't be so.
War is ugly. It doesn't belong
in anyone's history book.
Not one name should ever be etched
on a headstone where people look,
to remember death and honor a boy
that an ugly war took.
We fold up a flag. We listen to taps
and give a final salute.
And the boy who's gone is a memory.
His voice in the air is mute.
When one boy dies
in a land far away
there's a void, an empty space
that nothing in this whole wide world
can anyone ever replace.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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On Receiving A Letter From Marie
I wrote to the Sullivan family on the death of family member Catherine it seemed for me the proper thing to do
They were my friends and neighbours when I lived in Millstreet and to our old friends we must remain true
I was not expecting a letter in return and it came as a big surprise to me
When I received a letter from Catherine's elder sister Marie she now is Mrs Cregan from Tralee.
Marie from Claraghatlea one I remember her shiny wavy hair was chestnut brown
A cheerful and a very friendly person one of the nicest west of Millstreet Town
A warm hearted and a charming lady she always greeted with a big smile and hello
And hearing from her in her time of sorrow brought back the memories of long ago.
When she and Catherine and their younger brother James were going to school in Millstreet all three I recall were younger than I
Those were the happiest days that I remember but on looking back the years just seemed to fly
And our youthful Seasons for us went too quickly and the lust for wander carried us away
From Duhallow and the meadows west of Millstreet where in Summer weather we made cocks of hay.
She told me in her letter how she grieves for her sister Catherine they always were a close knit family
Our crosses to bear can sometimes prove quite heavy and how sad so very sad this life can be?
But time as we know is the greatest healer and though the pain of loss to heal may seem quite slow
As time goes by from her grief she will recover and her ache of loss from her eventually will go.
A surprise letter from Marie for to thank me for sympathy in writing I'd expressed at a family loss
The passing of Catherine at a young age tragic and on the family such a heavy cross
For Catherine her suffering is over though she did not live on to grow old and gray
And for Marie grieving for her beloved sister the ache of loss in time will fade away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Photograph
She sat on the platform bench
waiting for a train to arrive.
Waiting to see her brother
who left to start a new life
twenty-five years ago.
She brought a photograph of herself
for him to have when he went back home.
Stillness engulfed the station
as she waited alone there.
The hiss of an old steam train
filled the quiet air
as along the track it came
like a dinosaur from the past
and stopped at the station.
A group of young soldiers
disembarked to stretch their legs
and grab some fresh air.
One young soldier approached her.
He was sixteen if he was a day.
He smiled as he sat beside her.
“You’re a pretty lady.” He said.
“Thank you.” She replied. “Off to fight some battles? ”
“Yes, but I am not really sure where.
They say a lot of us might not be coming back”
“That is sad.” She replied.
“Especially when you have no one
to think of you.”
“You see I am an orphan
and have no family or a girlfriend come to that.
No one to think of me
when the great battles come.”
“Now that is sad, ” She said looking at him.
Then she realized the photograph
for her brother was in her handbag.
She reached in and removed it.
“Take this and think of me
when your great battles come.”
“I will keep it with me always.
Now I must get back on the train.”
As the train whistle blew.
He waved goodbye as the steam engulfed him.
Then the train was gone
as quickly as it had come.
The stillness that had engulfed the station
now dissipated to.
Suddenly there was noise everywhere.
She looked around
as if waking from a dream.
She looked back down the tracks.
The mournful hoot of the electric horn
herald the arriving electric train.
She watched it intensely
as it slowed to stop at the station.
Two passengers alighted,
a man and a woman.
Her brother and his wife.
She greeted them with a smile,
but her brother’s wife looked at her in shock
as if she had seen a ghost.
They hugged one another,
and then left the station
to go to her home.
Arriving at her home
her sister-in-law looked at her again.
“Sorry if I look mystified when I look at you.
I have something I must tell you.
My grandfather before he died
asked me to find any relatives
to a lady in a photograph.
It was given to him
when he was leaving to go to war
over seventy years ago.
He carried it with him everywhere he went.
He said the photograph protected him
like a good luck charm.
He swore one day to return it,
but events made that impossible.
He immigrated when the war was over
and never got the chance.
He wanted to let her family know
of the kind deed she did”
“But that does not explain
the way you looked at me.”
She removed the photograph
and handed it to her.
It was the photograph
she had given the young soldier
only hours before.
9 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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This Memrial Day
Pure water like a virgin sea
I miss you so!
Just a man in a horrible war
You died so young my father
Today at your grave I cried
I cry so little outside self pity
How I wish I could hear you
How I wish I could see you
Soon I will come home
The guns are silent
I look at your purple heart
I remember your 21-gun salute
The taps, the pure tears
Mom lies by you
My brother Jim next to her
Little flags and flowers on the graves
This Memorial Day was special
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Goodbye Brother
Am off and gone,
for my paradise is far,
at least...paradise brother.
I doubt your tears brother,
for I found no home here,
but a place in a friends place.brother.
Voidness resides in friend's tears
for pain of loosing a love
Oh! weak blood bond.brother.
He gave me love brother,
food when I did starve, brother
but brother you bothered not.
poem by Fate Mcfate
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My Young Brothers
young brother young brother i see we are close to cross that mountain, no matter your age orgin or color i consider you my young brothers, giving, the time...
young brother young brother as generation evaluation, we all need a helping hand, can we see to have peace, i know im just of coming, but seeing this horror made me write for kin,
dear brother my brother words are all we can share, by that can we nurture to make peace,
i am not that of, of a man lacking wood, but would you like to hear my full story?
my brother oh brother! ! !
poem by Louis Borgo
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