These Brother Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Brother. These are the best examples of Brother Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Rushing to your bedside,
cars blurred, people passed me by
yet I still looked for a sign
to know you would be all right
but I only felt God's tears on my cheeks that day
You just lay there,
the fire in you set to low
and I could not see your bright smile
but your heart still beat, ever so strong
and I felt God’s arms embrace me that day
For seven days you held on,
a day for each of us
even then you were so thoughtful...
you could not speak, but we still heard you breathe
then I heard God whisper to me that day…
As I left with papa to buy your mattress
to soothe your aching sores
I heard His voice say, “Go back and kiss him,”
“This just may be your last.”
And true enough, it was.
We left you there still breathing,
not on your own though, but still
Then that dreaded phone call...
No more need to buy that mattress,
your heart had already gone still
A part of my heart will always be numb,
and I shall never be the same again
a certain twinkle in my eye won’t shine anymore,
it died as you took your final breath
but my smile, how thankful I am I have a hint of yours...
Tears still flow from my soul you know
for all my mistakes, for my version of coping
I am just so sorry, I hope you have forgiven me
and I still hope to feel your embrace once more
when I reach Heaven’s door someday...
It may only be in dreams that I truly see you,
only in prayer do we speak
You are here no more and yet I feel you,
inside my heart, the depths of my soul…
** this is about the last image of seeing my only brother alive...
he was diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a tennis ball
5 months prior to his seizure which led to a 7-day coma,
which he finally succumbed to,
just 2 days before I turned 23...he was 32...
** originally wrote this for Frank's Images contest-
thanks Frank for coming up with this,
it's helped me to write and share this...
please say a prayer for Raphael, my brother--thank you...
** submitting this as well for HG's Personify a Tear contest
My eldest brother, nine years old,
Thought he could break a horse.
Our mother strictly forbade him.
A mother’s right of course.
Her young son mustered all his wiles,
Hoping he could sway her.
Unwilling to be defeated,
He vowed to disobey her.
He gathered a rope and bridle,
Went to the big corral.
He was there to break a wild colt,
Three brothers there to yell.
Our youngest brother, four years old
Yelled, “I’ll tell Ma on you
Unless you take me up there
And give me a ride too.”
In his eagerness to hush him,
His big brother agreed
And lifted him to the bare back
Of that big, trembling steed.
Our father came in nick of time
To salvage little brother,
Then watched as his son rode that colt.
No one told our mother.
It started growing in a field
Billy Stover watched it grow
Because the corn was tall
Because Billy Stover was small
No one knew
Now one saw
No one saw how the tiny boy watched by the hour in summer's heat
Even from the top of high elm trees by the road
who could have detected that small lad stretched out
on his stomach leaning on his elbows watching
On stormy days Billy watched from the closest window
elbows propped up on the sill
He knew it was growing though he couldn't see it
He'd be down in the field now in the mud watching
but his mother forbade it
"What do you do out there Billy all by yourself?
What is it you do out there instead of playing?"
On certain days when the wind swayed the green stalks
and nipped Billy's cheeks his eyes would light up
He fought back a burning desire to run into the white kitchen
to tug at his mother's apron to bring her out
and show her his one spot
He jumped up once when the flames leaped high
started running for the house
"Mother! Mother!" he silently shouted
Every part of his small body shook with joy but
The bleak white walls of the kitchen
his mother her hands dipped in bread dough....................................
It started growing in the field in the dirt in the mind of Billy Stover
And no one could have kept a secret better than Billy
"Each experience is locked within my heart and only I hold the key..."
There was a time when Jess was young, that we thought we were going to lose him.
It all started with recurring headaches he would have. These headaches became more frequent and intense over a few months. Next, tremors on one side joined the headaches.
Countless trips to the Doctor and days of having to leave work to go to his side at school to help him through the episodes. I blew a gasket. I demanded a CAT scan. I think that the only reason that the Doctor agreed, was to shut me up. But I knew in my gut, that these were not migraines as diagnosed.
The day of the CAT scan came. I sat in an area that allowed me to see my son and hear the technicians. At first, the techs were very chatty among themselves. Then, stark silence. As if a tomb door had been shut. Then the words that still haunt me were said..."Oh shit" on of the technicians whispered. I closed my eyes and felt my heart cry out in its pain.
I sat in the Doctors office, waiting for him to come and tell me my son was fine. That there was an error in the reading of the scan.
He entered with his nurse, who was carrying a box of tissues and cup of water.
"Your son has an arachnoid cyst. The left temporal lobe of his brain is not there. In its place is a fluid filled sack. The pressure of the filling fluid is causing all the symptoms. He will need to undergo brain surgery."
I sat there....numb. All I recall hearing are the words...Brain surgery.
The day of the surgery came. His younger brother was with me in the waiting room. Too young to understand the gravity of the situation. All he knew was that his brother was very sick.
Now, I want to take you to our sons Hospital room, post surgery.
There he was, lying in the big bed. White as the sheet that covered his small body up to his chest. His head wrapped in bandages. Tubes and wires everywhere.
As our son was waking up, his first words were "Where is my brother?"
Mike flew to the side of his bed and grabbed his hand. "I'm right here!" he said.
Very weakly, Jess was able to say "I love you Mike."
Mike in turn said, "I love you Jess."
My tears that had never flowed through the whole ordeal finally came. Not out of fear, but for the love that our sons had for one another.
For the A Fragment Of Life contest
sponsored by Constance La France
I was only allowed to go
(after whining, begging, and promises of unlikely saint-hood)
if my big brother, (much to his displeasure)
made a pledge
to keep an eye on me
Disgruntled, but resigned, he took me along.
He managed to keep, at least, one eye on me, (however, sitting two rows behind me)
in the dim-dungeon of the Tower theater
on Atlantic Boulevard,
at the Saturday matinee...
There, happily, and rather smugly,..I would eat popcorn by myself...
which was his apparent bribe,
for my promise to keep our Mother from knowing
As the movie unfolded,
(some Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis thing)
my brother, and his assorted, creepy friends
got great amusement
from throwing kernels of their own buttered bullets,
bouncing them off of the back of my head.
I would turn around to glare at them,
with blood-curdling, "I'm going to tell!", threat in my eyes..
which, of course brought even more sadistic satisfaction,
to four ape-like, teen aged primates..
After three or four long hours in the dark, air conditioned bedlam...
(a sticky floored collisium for juvenile delinquents),
we were saturated with multiple cartoons, and double features, sugar and soda,...
then, emerged with squinty eyes into the sweltering, afternoon sunlight
My brother and his friends, would still be punching each other,
laughing hysterically at private and quite disgusting jokes
(which I didn't understand, but somehow KNEW, were deplorable)...
taunting me with, "Cover your ears...Squirt!"
At that moment, all boys,...even my brother, (who was always my hero)...
were as icky as wads of gum stuck under the theater seats !
When the obnoxious, poor excuses for the male sex, had finally parted ways,...
and as soon as he knew they were out of sight,...
My brother patted my head, and smiled at me,...
he reached into his pocket, and handed me
a piece of Black Jack gum,
then grabbed my hand,
and we walked the eight blocks to our home.
Later, after supper, as the summer sun was going down,...
he took me for a ride, letting me sit on the handlebars of his bike
We sped around the block, ..I turned to look back at him and smiled...
He winked, and grinned back at me...
Then, he said, "Next week they are showing "The Blob". Ya' wanna come?"
The sunset sky was pink, yellow and red, pretty as a lollipop...
It had been a good , ...actually a perfect, ...summer day......
He glances out the window,
And watches the sunset,
But he doesn’t see the beauty,
Nor the warm rays which,
Pierces through the glass,
Only the anticipation and,
Anxiety of a long night,
Carefully, he watches,
The colors change,
First the bright orange,
"God I pray this never ends…"
Filling with a deep red,
"Just a little while longer…"
Slowly softening to the,
Deceptive pinks and purples,
"Please, one more minute…"
Fading into the crimson black,
Which only night can bring,
Reluctantly, he gets ready for sleep,
Yet, knows it will never come,
He tossed and turns,
Half praying, half waiting,
Knowing what will happen,
In the way only a child can,
A light! It peeks through a crack,
In the door as a shadow floods the opening,
Quickly, the figure slips through the door,
And shuts it softly, but not without the,
Empty creak which has become so familiar,
The shadow climbs in beside him,
Touching his trembling leg, whispering,
“Hush little brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”
He struggles and writhes,
Sadly knowing he will never,
Break the grip and prays to faint,
To loss all consciousness and,
Memory of that horrible night,
Just for one night without the pain,
Just for one night without,
The cold empty feeling,
Several years pass, too many to count,
A single call, one he had never expected,
He rushes to the hospital to find,
His tormentor for so many years,
Lying on a cold, hard bed,
Able to move, but only by pushing a button,
Able to speak, but only with a whisper,
He stays by him for weeks, caring for him,
Reading to him, watching over him,
Still suffering, still unable to move,
He takes his brother home,
The day goes on, moving slow as all,
The evening comes and he,
Watches once more as the sun sets,
Carefully watching, Orange to red,
Red to purple, and as the purple turns to black,
He walks into the room where his brother lies,
Slowly, he sits next to him, holding a pillow,
Stroking his head whispering,
“Hush big brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”
The difference between right and wrong,
Can be hard to find,
But who’s there to see you,
When justice is blind?
In the dimmed theater, the stage is set
not for a play though, yet a performance
one of baton, brass, notes, timpani
the performance I have waited for has come
As the stage lights grow brighter like sunlight
the theater grows dimmer yet, almost dark
but for the brilliance of the stage lights
then out you come with French Horn in hand
Along with thirty of forty other musicians
you take the stage, you are first chair
therefore you must be at your best tonight
and I know that you will be, you've practiced
The Conductor arrives on stage and announces
Welcome to the Black Hawk County Honor Band
I am sure you will be pleased with our selections
The Conductor takes the podium, opens his arms
With baton in hand he signals instruments ready
You raise your horn along with the others
ahhh the sound is fervent with excitement
the theater is alive with Parker in G flat
I can pick your horn from all the other instruments
you are playing the best you have ever played
you are caressing your horn like a fine jewel
and it sparkles in the light brilliance unimagined
Like your brother the writer of poetic beauty
you also have talent, musical talent like I
you now can hear a song and play it, by ear
like I you are learning the guitar, teaching yourself
The next song, Bach, such beauty to my ears
you and your fellow musicians have mastered the master
two years you have played, it sounds like many more
I film the whole concert, to preserve the moment
The concert ends with a Beethoven, in B how lovely
again you played masterfully, never missed a note
You even hit high G, and you thought you couldn't
well done son and it's all on tape, and in my memory
Red faced you leave the atrium, you worked so hard
I hug you and tell you how proud I am of you
all you want is a drink of water, you drank and
the redness is leaving your face, well done I hug you again
I wish your Brother could have been here to see and hear
he would have been proud too, and would have hugged you
You see, talent runs in our family, Me, you and Jared
all have it, So I guess it's in the gene pool, must be for you see
The Nuts fall close to the tree !
Nascent you were to this macrocosm,
Blessed you were to parents,
Dyspoeic, unsounded from mother’s womb you emerged,
Many conceived you were with Jesus,
Afore brought forth into beingness.
Doctors resuscitate with oxygen mask,
Travail, thirty minutes passed brought you back.
Triumphant over death, won life for yourself.
Whence you cried, Father gloating in joy cried a river.
Thence avouch, sweven God’s work as you grow a man.
engendered after, saw father’s fond on you.
Through many years of togetherness;
Pettifogger we fought and punished.
Though non twins, grew more like identical.
when you cried a child, I cried and still does.
Such is the love of brother, my brother.
Thither you went away to boarding school.
Whereby learned ways, good and bad.
And drew more to wassailer, drunkenness.
dissever we became, perceived I abhorred my brother.
Fondly Imbibe in whisky, disremembering your sole purpose,
So fond nearly you died like once when born half dead.
And whence in hospital bed you battled for life,
I cried a river, my brother.
I do not hate as I hate cockatrice,
I care more than I care the girl of my life.
And whence you live wastefully rummy, I rue.
Come at able, find oneself and the purpose, my brother.
The life you once battled and won when first born,
Be not languish in vain.
Be cumbered and hugger-mugger no more.
Ere in final resting place you lay,
I invoke to envision you gratified after years.
Heedless of how you impeach, I despise;
I merely have one brother.
My brother! My brother.
In slumber I lay on white sheets in the barn.
Sweet thoughts of a lover from which I am torn.
I can still smell the scent of her soft fragrant hair.
To my side I find that my Cougar is there.
Calmly he paces.
He claws at my arm to warn me, beware!
The ghost that is floating just feet in the air!
I leap to my feet, my lover is gone, the sorrow I feel will forever live on.
I run to the woods and I turn to see that the ghost is closing in on me!
Only a face, just mouth, just eyes.
But calmness comes over me as I realize,
The ghost is my brother
How is this so?
Perhaps it is love he is trying to show.
I wander through this house
As silent as a mouse
Though it is my own I feel I've been away
I'm rather speechless, having not much to say
I see my brother working in the shed
Just passing the time as if he's seen red
I see my other brother smoking a cigarette
With no enthusiasm... has he too seen red?
I do my daily routine
Pace, contemplate and clean
Though something is not quite right
This summer day bears no light
I come into the living room
Usually lively... filled with joy
Now it's naked and abandoned
Like a toddlers chest of old toys
But wait... I see Mother on the couch
She's sad with wet crimson face
She doesn't even say hello
Has my coming here been a waste?
"Why are you crying Mother
Have I done something wrong?"
She just sobs and sobs
... a rather disquieting song
My father looks down at her
With a smile
But something about him
Seems quite vile
"I miss him... I miss him so much"
She cries so helplessly
"Who do you miss Mother?
I don't understand what you mean..."
My dad buts in with no consideration
Revealing horrible secrets in such wicked display
"Alright, alright... I confess... I killed him!
But quite you're crying about it, it's better off this way!"
It all comes to me
In such a sudden burst
I feel the intense hatred
So much it hurts
I'm not here... I don't exist... (at least not anymore)
I'm the stranger in the house!
But soon I'll get my revenge
I'll make Father feel as tiny as a mouse!
I know what you've done
I should've known all along
I will tell everyone
And correct this home gone wrong
I'll come to life again! I'l---
Blanket wet... I feel cold...
Why am I laying down? Was all that just a---
"Morning son! I've made you breakfast;
Scrambled eggs and french toast, your favorite!"
Could he really? ... no...
Just a dream...
NOTE: This entire dream actually happened to me. The only thing that was fiction was the part about my dad making me breakfast in the morning.
For Russel Sivey's Dream Contest
03 - 19 - 2013