in the thousands of pages
in heaven one more is added that
will be missed but remembered
There is no us in that—
in that you’re on your own.
Refusal to walk into your trap
where hate breeds like a disease unknown.
Your thoughts collapse, too slack, too thin,
to prove you ever weighed it all.
I cannot see where your mind has been,
prepared to twist and watch it fall.
You chose the crowd instead of thought,
traded your reason for their disguise.
You bury your hate in borrowed lies,
and march in step with a machine—
telling your heart this path is proud,
that every stride is patriotic ground.
But your path veers far from mine.
It runs against all I know.
Darkness shadows every track—
and I no longer want to know you.
Arose from the bowels of Holocaust
Deceit serrated t'belt the buoyance of war hailed call
Hail thee to hall, to avenge thy brother
Impelled mysteries of destiny reigned the doom of insuperiority o'er wary world
The heathen hath halt the assault o'er imperious arms
Armed with salt and thy brother's head and heart
Strangers decree and massacre of superiority lesserly spake this tidal turn
And chant the overture of impartial time
Dearest friend, O fiend of brotherly arm
Spickle saline hath mock the imperious heart
Chaste t'torn t'merely marr this parting passage
Risen from the bowels to face the decaying mortal vantage
Dear brother, killed by a drunken driver senselessly:
A man of intellect and integrity was he.
Loved by many, he was our family’s pride.
Ever in our memories does dear Dale abide.
If you are looking for me..Its a lost cause i say
I seem to grow more distant and different day by day.' I
Once held ideals and ideas of what man I
Should be..Then Jesus came up cliose to be in front'
And I don't care now..For what once I prized
In truth it was but irrelevance, in deceptive guise.' The Light of Jesus..Is above all worldly worth
In Him, is my identity.' May I loose to Him all
Self importance, unto the new birth."
Keeto the apple of my eye,
Centre of attraction, smart yet shy,
The little diamond - handsome and naughty,
A new milestone- my baby prince turns 40!
Creeping into mom and my heart,
Always loved and admired though far apart,
Champion in golf, colorful in art,
Keeto! My little star is class apart!!
Full of empathy and very humble,
Smart and stunning, yet so simple,
With soft blue eyes that always sparkle,
With a cute smile he flashes those dimples!
Exemplary and radiant like the sun,
Keeto my precious gem is second to none,
Versatile and talented rolled into one,
Admired, cherished, adored & envied by everyone.
Born from my heart, to my mum he is a son,
Shining bright like the midnight sun ,
He is a superstar, pumpkin photo award he won,
He is extra ordinary , my scottish little one..
Reaching a new milestone, on a new journey he embarks,
Leaving his footprints on different landmarks,
With exuberance he defines benchmarks,
Well aware ,CEO position for him is earmarked
On his Ruby Jubilee today,
Mom and Rima from far away,
From our hearts where he stays,
We shout loud Keeto Happy Birthday!!!
Across the great plain with sun sprinkled path
they frolicked with the golden buffalo clan.
Dodging black powder chaps along the way
they moved about strong and steady
like a necklace of runaway slaves.
They were cornered at trickster's cliff
guardian angels were on permanent hiatus.
I guess it just wasn't a prosperous gig.
Many leapt to their misty valley fate
a few dug in deep to a sacred place
black powder veiling proud- painted faces
within the last drumbeat of a Capricorn rain.
I met Venus in Brockwell Park,
the air was calm, sweet as prophecy.
A book lay in my hand—
The Hammer of Witches.
She passed, her voice a soft enchantment:
“That book looks interesting—what is its name?”
I placed it in her hands.
Her eyes lingered. Intriguing…
We sat beneath the English Oak.
She asked if I believed in witchcraft.
I smiled—I read mysteries,
because reality hides there.
Her lips curved—then maybe I am a witch too.
We both laughed, shadows dancing.
Then her voice lowered:
If I tell you who I am,
perhaps you will run.
She whispered—I am Venus.
Born of Uranus, from Saturn’s blade.
Her words carved the air with sorrow.
Yet when I met her gaze,
our souls remembered.
I told her, I am Apollo,
the god of light and music.
Silence deepened—
our eyes locked, and worlds collapsed.
No flesh, only mind,
a burning union of ancient fire.
We flew through the sky of the soul,
witch and god entwined.
And when the vision ended,
only one truth remained:
When you see Venus,
you will see Apollo—
for in the end, we are one flame,
forever burning in exile.
Angola Silence (Renku)
In a silent mood
Await the pure white horses
To draw the carriage
Someday comes my turn
Laid amidst the other graves
Angola will reign
Carry a brother
Dispense final dignity
In this place of pain
I love the colour of my skin,
Au naturel suave evergreen.
From head to toe, and deep within,
Each part of me, feels so serene.
Even the bristles, on my chin,
Tonsured daily, smooth shaven clean.
The only difference, with my twin,
While I am green, he's tangerine.
Hereditary, our kith and kin,
Diverse within the human gene.
8 / 13 / 2025.
Roses may be red
And violets blue
But one thing for sure
Is my life is sad without you
You will never get to see me grow
As your time came and you had to go
So here is a promise to you my big brother
I promise to always protect our mother
I will comfort her when she’s feels sad
I hope that makes you feel glad
I will make him smile as he is our dad
And I will try my best not to be bad
But my brother remember one thing
You will always be missed
Until the next time
You can be kissed
Miriam Millicent Mannerheim-Merps
Loved calling her two younger brothers, twerps
After she had her first child
Both were very sweet and mild
But when baby nursed, they crooned her with burps.
My brother’s book deserves a look
And not just for the time it took,
But for the family tree he shook
To show the need to strive.
His characters are loosely based
On relatives whose lives he traced
From foreign lands ‘til they embraced
New homes when they’d arrive.
The story’s universal, though,
For as they settle and they grow,
We realize how much we don’t know
Of how they did survive.
Most families who did emigrate
Shared hardships and the hand of fate
And often, we learn much too late
What pushed or helped them thrive.
My brother’s book may bring acclaim
And might or might not garner fame,
But if you read From Where We Came*,
His story stays alive.
by Burt Rashbaum
My brother and I,
while choosing a name for my nephew,
tried hard to think of something unique—
something with variety and charm.
“Tractor” was the first choice,
then came “Tumbler,”
and we fell breathless with laughter,
comparing impossible things—
his eyes to stretching bubblegum.
We joked about how his name
might sound when he grew older.
Laughs and tears rolled down our cheeks.
Specific Types of Brother Poems
Read wonderful brother poetry on the following sub-topics:
big brother, birthday, funeral, funny, heaven, i love you, i miss my, little brother, little sister,
and more.
Definition | What is Brother in Poetry?