Brother And Sister
"SISTER, sister, go to bed!
Go and rest your weary head."
Thus the prudent brother said.
"Do you want a battered hide,
Or scratches to your face applied?"
Thus his sister calm replied.
"Sister, do not raise my wrath.
I'd make you into mutton broth
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.
He lies near to death
Dying in the dust
Broken and forgot.
Now his children
Once mighty tribes
Fall before the setting sun.
His women - - young and old
Dead and dying
Epistle To My Brother George
Full many a dreary hour have I past,
My brain bewildered, and my mind o'ercast
With heaviness; in seasons when I've thought
No spherey strains by me could e'er be caught
From the blue dome, though I to dimness gaze
On the far depth where sheeted lightning plays;
Or, on the wavy grass outstretched supinely,
Pry 'mong the stars, to strive to think divinely:
That I should never hear Apollo's song,
Though feathery clouds were floating all along
Death And His Brother Sleep (‘morphine’)
There’s a mirror likeness between those two
shining, youthfully-fledged figures, though
one seems paler than the other and more austere,
I might even say more perfect, more distinguished,
than he, who would take me confidingly in his arms –
how soft then and loving his smile, how blessed his glance!
Then, it might well have been that his wreath
of white poppies gently touched my forehead, at times,
and drove the pain from my mind with its strange scent.
But that is transient. I can only, now, be well,
Who was the villain
When it all began
Some fair-haired stranger
From a faraway land
Or the African brother
Selling his neighbor away
In exchange of whatever
The fair-haired stranger would pay
The Gardener Lxviii: None Lives For Ever, Brother
None lives for ever, brother, and
nothing lasts for long. Keep that in
mind and rejoice.
Our life is not the one old burden,
our path is not the one long
One sole poet has not to sing one
The flower fades and dies; but he
who wears the flower has not to
To My Brother George
Many the wonders I this day have seen:
The sun, when first he kissed away the tears
That filled the eyes of Morn;—the laurelled peers
Who from the feathery gold of evening lean;—
The ocean with its vastness, its blue green,
Its ships, its rocks, its caves, its hopes, its fears,
Its voice mysterious, which whoso hears
Must think on what will be, and what has been.
E'en now, dear George, while this for you I write,
Cynthia is from her silken curtains peeping
No. 101 (On His Brother's Death)
By ways remote and distant waters sped,
Brother, to thy sad grave-side am I come,
That I may give the last gifts to the dead,
And vainly parley with thine ashes dumb:
Since she who now bestows and now denies
Hath ta'en thee, hapless brother, from mine eyes.
But lo! these gifts, the heirlooms of past years,
Are made sad things to grace thy coffin shell;
Take them, all drenched with a brother's tears,
And, brother, for all time, hail and farewell!
Brother Of All, With Genesrous Hand
BROTHER of all, with generous hand,
Of thee, pondering on thee, as o'er thy tomb, I and my Soul,
A thought to launch in memory of thee,
A burial verse for thee.
What may we chant, O thou within this tomb?
What tablets, pictures, hang for thee, O millionaire?
--The life thou lived'st we know not,
But that thou walk'dst thy years in barter, 'mid the haunts of
Brother Jonathan's Lament
SHE has gone,-- she has left us in passion and pride,--
Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side!
She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow,
And turned on her brother the face of a foe!
Oh, Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun,
We can never forget that our hearts have been one,--
Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty's name,
From the fountain of blood with the finger of flame!
My Brother is so annoying
My Brother is so sad
My Brother drives me crazy
it makes me wanna go mad.
My Brother makes my father constantly yell
My Brother makes my mother cry
My Brother makes me wanna go die, sometimes...
My Brother is crazy
To My Brother
Give me your hand, my brother, search my face;
Look in these eyes lest I should think of shame;
For we have made an end of all things base.
We are returning by the road we came.
Your lot is with the ghosts of soldiers dead,
And I am in the field where men must fight.
But in the gloom I see your laurell’d head
And through your victory I shall win the light.
My brother Jim's a millionaire,
while I have scarce a penny;
His face is creased with lines of care,
While my mug hasn't any.
With inwardness his eyes are dim,
While mine laugh out in glee,
And though I ought to envy him,
I think he envies me.
He has a chateau, I a shack,
Big Brother Syndrome
Burning! Burning! Whole world is burning
Erased ghettos, razing down skyscrapers
Mowed out farms, fields and meadows
Smoldering woods, thickets and vines
Thawing glaciers and boiling polar waters
War-fire far and wide; wild and torrid
Melting earth into oceans
Asia and Australia in shambles
Africa reduced to hot ashes
To My Brother Poet, Seeking Peace
People wish to be settled. Only as long as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.
My life has been
for a mouth
I have never seen,
from I know not
Little Brown Brother
I've always wanted to play the part
of that puckish pubescent Filipino boy
in those John Wayne Pacific-War movies.
Pepe, Jose, or Juanito would be smiling,
bare-chested and eager to please
for most of the steamy jungle scenes.
I'd be the one who would cross
Baby Brother (Children)
My baby brother falls a lot.
I see how sad he feels.
Why don't baby brothers
come with training wheels?
Krishna Complains About His Older Brother
O mother mine, Dau (Balram)forever teases me.
you never gave birth to me,
and I was bought in the market.
this is what he tells me
o mother mihne, Dau forever teases me.
fed up of his teasing ways,
I don't go out to play.
who is your mother?
and who is your father?
again and again he says.
***the Day My Baby Brother Died***
I remember that dreadful morning,
Waking to the beast,
Time had stopped, the news reckless
A beautiful boy amazing but deceased
I heard my heart shatter and my soul screamed a cry
The couler the detail I remember like yesterday
But I just wished I’d I said a final goodbye,
Ruthless pain i hide so deep inside,
I wish I could take you just once