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Famous Short Brother Poems. Short Brother Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short Brother Poems. Short Brother Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Brother short poems

See also: Short Member Poems

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by Stephen Crane

I stood upon a high place,

 I stood upon a high place,
And saw, below, many devils
Running, leaping,
and carousing in sin.
One looked up, grinning,
And said, "Comrade! Brother!"


by Hilaire Belloc

The Early Morning

 The moon on the one hand, the dawn on the other:
The moon is my sister, the dawn is my brother.
The moon on my left and the dawn on my right.
My brother, good morning: my sister, good night.


by Emily Dickinson

Brother of Ingots -- Ah Peru --

 Brother of Ingots -- Ah Peru --
Empty the Hearts that purchased you --

--

Sister of Ophir --
Ah, Peru --
Subtle the Sum
That purchase you --

--

Brother of Ophir
Bright Adieu,
Honor, the shortest route
To you.


by Wang Wei

Thinking of My Brothers in Shantung on the Ninth Day of the Ninth Month

 Alone now in a strange country,
feeling myself a stranger,
On this bright festival day
I doubly pine for my kinsfolk.
Far away, I know my brothers
will be climbing the heights
With dogwood sprays in their jackets,
and one man missing!


by Robert Louis Stevenson

In The States

 With half a heart I wander here
As from an age gone by
A brother yet— though young in years,
An elder brother, I. 

You speak another tongue than mine,
Though both were English born.
I towards the night of time decline,
You mount into the morn.


by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

ON THE DIVAN.

 HE who knows himself and others

Here will also see,
That the East and West, like brothers,

Parted ne'er shall be.

Thoughtfully to float for ever

'Tween two worlds, be man's endeavour!
So between the East and West

To revolve, be my behest!

 1833.*


by Walt Whitman

To You.

 LET us twain walk aside from the rest; 
Now we are together privately, do you discard ceremony, 
Come! vouchsafe to me what has yet been vouchsafed to none—Tell me the whole story, 
Tell me what you would not tell your brother, wife, husband, or physician.


by Katharine Tynan

Lambs

 He sleeps as a lamb sleeps, 
Beside his mother. 
Somewhere in yon blue deeps 
His tender brother 
Sleeps like a lamb and leaps. 

He feeds as a lamb might, 
Beside his mother. 
Somewhere in fields of light 
A lamb, his brother, 
Feeds, and is clothed in white.


by Barry Tebb

SMILE, YOU ARE ON CCTV

 Even the charity shops boast of the surveillance

Mr Average is caught on camera a hundred times a day

To provide unending footage for reality TV

But in a decade where will we all be?

Big Brother’s eye will see our every step,

The blink of every eye, the tears we cry.


by Richard Wilbur

To the Etruscan Poets

 Dream fluently, still brothers, who when young
Took with your mother's milk the mother tongue,

In which pure matrix, joining world and mind,
You strove to leave some line of verse behind

Like still fresh tracks across a field of snow,
Not reckoning that all could melt and go.


by Emily Dickinson

To the bright east she flies,

 To the bright east she flies,
Brothers of Paradise
Remit her home,
Without a change of wings,
Or Love's convenient things,
Enticed to come.

Fashioning what she is,
Fathoming what she was,
We deem we dream --
And that dissolves the days
Through which existence strays
Homeless at home.


by Robert Burns

154. Lines Inscribed under Fergusson’s Portrait

 CURSE on ungrateful man, that can be pleased,
And yet can starve the author of the pleasure.
O thou, my elder brother in misfortune,
By far my elder brother in the Muses,
With tears I pity thy unhappy fate!
Why is the Bard unpitied by the world,
Yet has so keen a relish of its pleasures?


by Carl Sandburg

Kin

 BROTHER, I am fire
Surging under the ocean floor.
I shall never meet you, brother--
Not for years, anyhow;
Maybe thousands of years, brother.
Then I will warm you,
Hold you close, wrap you in circles,
Use you and change you--
Maybe thousands of years, brother.
Where the moon slants and wavers.


by Leonard Cohen

Suzanne

 Brother Paul! look!
—but he rushes to a different
window.
The moon!

I heard shrieks and thought:
What's that?

That's just Suzanne
talking to the moon!
Pounding on the window
with both fists:

 Paul! Paul!

—and talking to the moon.
Shrieking
and pounding the glass
with both fists!

Brother Paul! the moon!


by Langston Hughes

I, Too, Sing America

 I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides, 
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America.


by Vachel Lindsay

St. Francis of Assisi

 Would I might wake St. Francis in you all, 
Brother of birds and trees, God's Troubadour, 
Blinded with weeping for the sad and poor; 
Our wealth undone, all strict Franciscan men, 
Come, let us chant the canticle again 
Of mother earth and the enduring sun. 
God make each soul the lonely leper's slave; 
God make us saints, and brave.


by Hermann Hesse

Lonesome Night

 You brothers, who are mine,
Poor people, near and far,
Longing for every star,
Dream of relief from pain,
You, stumbling dumb
At night, as pale stars break,
Lift your thin hands for some
Hope, and suffer, and wake,
Poor muddling commonplace,
You sailors who must live
Unstarred by hopelessness,
We share a single face.
Give me my welcome back.


by Emily Dickinson

There is another sky

 There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!


by Siegfried Sassoon

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.


by Denise Levertov

On the Mystery of the Incarnation

 It's when we face for a moment
the worst our kind can do, and shudder to know
the taint in our own selves, that awe
cracks the mind's shell and enters the heart:
not to a flower, not to a dolphin,
to no innocent form
but to this creature vainly sure
it and no other is god-like, God
(out of compassion for our ugly
failure to evolve) entrusts,
as guest, as brother,
the Word.


by Nazim Hikmet

About My Poetry

 I have no silver-saddled horse to ride,
no inheritance to live on,
neither riches no real-estate --
a pot of honey is all I own.
A pot of honey
 red as fire!

My honey is my everything.
I guard
my riches and my real-estate
-- my honey pot, I mean --
from pests of every species,
Brother, just wait...
As long as I've got
honey in my pot,
bees will come to it
 from Timbuktu...


by Carl Sandburg

Anna Imroth

 CROSS the hands over the breast here--so.
Straighten the legs a little more--so.
And call for the wagon to come and take her home.
Her mother will cry some and so will her sisters and
brothers.
But all of the others got down and they are safe and
this is the only one of the factory girls who
wasn't lucky in making the jump when the fire broke.
It is the hand of God and the lack of fire escapes.


by Robert Francis

Waxwings

 Four Tao philosophers as cedar waxwings
chat on a February berry bush
in sun, and I am one.

Such merriment and such sobriety--
the small wild fruit on the tall stalk--
was this not always my true style?

Above an elegance of snow, beneath
a silk-blue sky a brotherhood of four
birds. Can you mistake us?

To sun, to feast, and to converse
and all together--for this I have abandoned
all my other lives.


by Wang Wei

Farewell

 I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! 
I bow to you all and take my departure. 

Here I give back the keys of my door 
---and I give up all claims to my house. 
I only ask for last kind words from you. 

We were neighbors for long, 
but I received more than I could give. 
Now the day has dawned 
and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. 
A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.


by Walt Whitman

Among the Multitude.

 AMONG the men and women, the multitude, 
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs, 
Acknowledging none else—not parent, wife, husband, brother, child, any nearer than I
 am; 
Some are baffled—But that one is not—that one knows me. 

Ah, lover and perfect equal!
I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections; 
And I, when I meet you, mean to discover you by the like in you.


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