Best Like A Brother Poems
6 years ago, I wrote limericks about 5 PS poets. Today, I've posted
about another 5 and will continue to add more... before 6 years.
I tickled funny bones of five Souper men
So, I gave thought to trying it once again
In the order they replied
My sarcasm was applied
As I gently heckled them with ink and pen
First, Tom Cunningham, who "liked my collection"
To femme limericks he had no objection
But now it's his turn
Tom, forgive the burn
I heard you're headed for a house of correction
Jerry T Curtis said to "keep them coming"
But I think that lately he's been slumming
He's all aflutter
And starts to stutter
When his lady friend starts his heart strumming
Then there is the poet of romance, Tim Smith
His sweet words of seduction are not a myth
I know it to be truth
Don't ask me. It's uncouth
I don't kiss and tell so I'm pleading the fifth
John Gondolf said my limericks made him "chuckle"
His comments are always filled with honeysuckle
But if he wants a date
I'll have to castigate
I have a black belt in the use of my knuckles
"I needed smiles and giggles," said Greg Barden
His poems are flowers blooming in a garden
But some words are couture
Fertilized with manure
Now I guess I'll have to beg for Greg's pardon
The new additions...
Like a brother he comes to my defense
This man wears no guise and has no pretense
Mark Koplin, misunderstood
A modern-day Robin Hood
To me he shines with rays of effulgence
There's a man who took me under his wing
Says what he thinks. Doesn't hold back a thing
Danny Turner, my friend
A helping hand he'll lend
For offering kind words, he's a wellspring
David Kavanagh, true friend from the start
Encouraging advice, he does impart
Throws Monoku lines like spears
I raise a glass to him ~ cheers!
Loyal, his word. A man with a good heart
Canadian, Vaso, we don't see oft
Art doesn't come across as being soft
But has a tender heart
For countries torn apart
His poetic words should never be scoffed
His funny thoughts overflow in a Flood
Terry writes humor that's never a dud
Risque, and sometimes not
His stories have a plot
Rumor has it that he's known as 'The Stud'
Gentlemen, I ask forgiveness for this spoof
My humorous parodies should be the proof
That I like all of you
And don't mind if ya do
Get even in your own limericks of reproof
It's important to have a real close friend,
on whom you can rely.
One who shares your hopes and dreams.
Consoles you, when you cry!
A shoulder, you can lean on,
in times of stress and strife,
to encourage and advise you,
down the road we know, as life!
A friend who'll always be there!
One on whom, you can depend!
Does not question your decisions,
he's just a loyal friend!
He'll back you up, through thick and thin,
no matter how bizarre!
He treats you like a brother!
He accepts you, as you are!
No matter what the future holds,
there's one thing to contend,
you'll know that you've been truely blessed,
because, he is your friend!
Momma's in the kitchen frying chicken
Daddy's got the game on the old TV
Two brother's playing and fighting in the parlor
It's just the way things used to be
Momma stayed home and raised us kids
Never had much except love if I recall
Daddy worked everyday but Sunday
Then again, I guess we had it all
We got our clothes from people up the street
Their kids were older and always well dressed
They would send a box down once or twice a year
And we'd thank God, we were so blessed
Shared a bicycle between five brothers
Had all we needed and so much more
Never saw a government check until we enlisted
I guess they forgot to tell us we were poor
Lived in an alley full of kids
Second house in a row of seven
Learned to work for whatever we wanted
This was our little piece of heaven
No one stole from one another
Respected all and what they worked for
Slept like a baby, three to a room
Never bothered locking a door
We have so much now it's mind boggling
In a way I guess we lost our senses
Corrupted with greed, we became reclusive
Instead of bridges, we built fences
Return with me to those forgotten times
When we treated our neighbor just like a brother
Never got judged by the way we dressed
And people cared about one another
Remember Jackie Gleason and the Honeymooners
Lawrence Welk on a Saturday night
Breyer's ice cream from the corner store
Lassie and Dragnet in black and white
Uncle Miltie and Bishop Sheen
Robin Hood starring Richard Greene
Superman and a matinee
With Dinah Shore, see the USA
Riding grassy hills in a cardboard box
Taking little brother for long summer walks
Forgotten times spent with a friend
Times we thought would never end
A life full of riches doing all that we could
A life full of struggles, even the bad times were good
Somewhere in the distance a lone church bell chimes
While I close my eyes and dream of forgotten times.
Live life to its fullest, each and every day
Is there any good reason to live another way
Visualize happiness and happiness here will stay
Even in times of trouble, is what the wise men say
Laughing every day is a goal we all should set
And laughing at ourselves is a better target yet
Unhappy people are those we should forget
Greeting each day with laughter you never will regret
Happiness is contagious; a disease I hope I get
Love is a gift that we should give to one another
Opportunity abounds to love others like a brother
Victims of hate are slow to fully recover
Encourage you, I do, to be a Liver, a Laugher and a Lover
October blows a symphony of sighs
with blustry gusts that presage winter's bleak
arrival as I shuffle through the park,
kaleidoscope of leaves a welcome prize.
Swings unswung on, roundabouts without
the rush of children stutter to a halt.
October blood suffuses to the hilt
my heavy heart, and calms a soul in doubt.
Images, bright images that have no
need of language, the pictures tell the tale,
a gang of schoolboys, picnic-packed, hale
and hearty, hoping for a hint of snow,
their teacher, raven-black, with no command.
Oaks stand guard, ramrod-straight like sentries,
rhododendrons, strong and sprawling bushes,
a place to smoke illicit contraband!
The dial at sunlight's pleasure points to time,
the weather vane makes plain the wind's direction,
no need of clock or any vain contraption
to guage the day, its reason or its rhyme.
The stillness of the morning and the day-glow,
and meadow grasses blessing me with softness,
the rippled waters thrilling me with sweetness,
what other measures do I need to know?
October blows a symphony of sighs,
of spells and incantations for the wise,
who, weather-worn and beaten, seek the skies
or haunt the woodlands for a siren's eyes;
for nature is the most compelling teacher,
companion to my father and my mother,
she cavils, then is kind, just like a brother,
and binds our earthly tapestry together.
JESUS IS MY TEACHER
Jesus is so good to me.
Jesus is like a brother.
Jesus is in everything I see.
There is no other.
When I travel far,
Jesus travels further.
Jesus is my guiding star.
I need Him forever.
I love Jesus more each day.
Jesus is my preacher.
Jesus hears me when I pray.
Jesus is my teacher.
Janet Marie Bingham
...inspired by 'Especially When The October Wind' by Dylan Thomas
October blows a symphony of sighs
with blustry gusts that presage winter's bleak
arrival as I shuffle through the park,
kaleidoscope of leaves a welcome prize.
Swings unswung on, roundabouts without
the rush of children stutter to a halt.
October blood suffuses to the hilt
my heavy heart, and calms a soul in doubt.
Images, bright images that have no
need of language, the pictures tell the tale,
a gang of schoolboys, picnic-packed, hale
and hearty, hoping for a hint of snow,
their teacher, raven-black, with no command.
Oaks stand guard, ramrod-straight like sentries,
rhododendrons, strong and sprawling bushes,
a place to smoke illicit contraband!
The dial at sunlight's pleasure points to time,
the weather vane makes plain the wind's direction,
no need of clock or any vain contraption
to guage the day, its reason or its rhyme.
The stillness of the morning and the day-glow,
and meadow grasses blessing me with softness,
the rippled waters thrilling me with sweetness,
what other measures do I need to know?
October blows a symphony of sighs,
of spells and incantations for the wise,
who, weather-worn and beaten, seek the skies
or haunt the woodlands for a siren's eyes;
for nature is the most compelling teacher,
companion to my father and my mother,
she cavils, then is kind, just like a brother,
and binds our earthly tapestry together.
October blows a symphony of sighs
with blustry gusts that presage winter's bleak
arrival as I shuffle through the park,
kaleidoscope of leaves a welcome prize.
Swings unswung on, roundabouts without
the rush of children stutter to a halt.
October blood suffuses to the hilt
my heavy heart, and calms a soul in doubt.
Images, bright images that have no
need of language, the pictures tell the tale,
a gang of schoolboys, picnic-packed, hale
and hearty, hoping for a hint of snow,
their teacher, raven-black, with no command.
Oaks stand guard, ramrod-straight like sentries,
rhododendrons, strong and sprawling bushes,
a place to smoke illicit contraband.
The dial at sunlight's pleasure points to time,
the weather vane makes plain the wind's direction,
no need of clock or any vain contraption
to gauge the day, its reason or its rhyme.
The stillness of the morning and the day-glow,
and meadow grasses blessing me with softness,
the rippled waters thrilling me with sweetness,
what other measures do I need to know?
October blows a symphony of sighs,
of spells and incantations for the wise,
who, weather-worn and beaten, seek the skies
or haunt the woodlands for a siren's eyes,
for nature is the most compelling teacher,
companion to my father and my mother,
she cavils, then is kind, just like a brother,
and binds our earthly tapestry together.
Its been years since we met each other
I know you like a sister and you know me like a brother
We never had thoughts of ever being with each other
Weve Dated many others so why even bother
But I love you like no other ever would
Ill have you next to me at all times if I could
But we are opposites on the mind
You got large goals and I give hard times
My minds in the gutter and yours is positive at all times
Girl you know I ain't lying
I would never want for you to get minimized
I will try helping you reach towards the sky
You are important to me and I want you to succeed
On whatever your mind chooses you to be
Even if it means loosing you for better in the end
Always and for ever your true friend
You know what you mean to me
Many days come and go but I keep you on my mind
The thought of loosing a friend
Trembles me and shivers me down to my spine
Just know that your worth the wait
Ill be their to help you threw tough days
The love for you
cant nobody take it away
Life is what you make it,
be the best that you can be.
Don't anguish over past mistakes,
the past, is history!
Don't concentrate on yesterday,
it never will return!
Improve your life, as best you can,
from the lessons you have learned.
It's important, how you look at life,
that plays the greatest part!
Learning how to live it right,
comes from deep within your heart!
Every day, can be a challenge
from the beginning, to the end.
Any time you slip or fall,
get right back up again!
It seems, with every Rose in life,
there also comes a thorn!
But, with every death, that touches us,
a new baby, will be born!
We all should have, I believe,
a friendship with each other!
Let the love, we have for family,
help us treat, friends, like a brother!
I feel, we have the where-with-all,
to make life, much more sweet,
for all our friends and neighbors,
and whoever else we meet!
That is what life means to me,
it can be rough, that's true!
But, at those times, I remind myself,
"Success is up to you!"
I began caressing her soft, sweet, chocolate skin.
"You're like a brother to me," she said,
"This has got to stop happening."
"Are you saying," I asked,
"that I make love to you like a black man?"
"Not that kind of brother," she said, "you freaking moron."
Come in and rest awhile my friend,
I was hoping you would drop by.
I have long been expecting you,
isn't it weird how time can fly?
Just yesterday, I found myself
wondering when you would get here.
And I'm so sorry to hear folks
are maligning you out of fear.
Amongst all my tribulations,
you are unlike any other.
For you don't pretend to love me,
while you treat me like a brother.
You have been accused of murder,
which is both unfair and untrue.
But people need someone to blame,
forgetting all the good you do.
I'll be with you in a moment,
I'm exhaling my final breath.
And I thank you for your patience,
ok, I'm ready, let's go, Death.
A friend to her, for decades
from the innocence of children
to the adventures of teenagers
and even the stupidity of best friends
all well shared and enjoyed
to a point the gods ask why the wait
and beg for the next level.
He sees all the possibilities
to make her the care-taker of his heart.
Thinking he's the only one with eyes open
he made his confession
attached with an honest recommendation
to his amazement
she looked at him and said
"you are so nice, but like a brother to me'.
Switching to the next damsel
who's no where near cold
but soft, tender, meek and charming.
He allows her control the pace
and lets her gentleness maintain the tempo.
Feeds her with poems
and makes her drunk with happiness
with hopes going higher, reaching the moon
she looked at him and said
"sorry! I am not yet ready".
He jumped into the next wagon
having an available space for a beauty
and meets a potential 'second half'
pretty, quiet and an introvert.
Worships her right from day one
letting lose the net of affection,
half in magnitude of his efforts
will strike the tenderness of a millepede
but it got her scared as she looked at him and said
"I just had a heart break; I'm so sorry"
Watering a fresh new flower
growing in a familiar garden just close by,
makes him grow in creativity
as he engage in constant words exchange
and creating wonderful serenity around her.
Huge investments and time well spent
coupled with passionate research
in equipping his machinery of jokes and laughter
sums up his passion and carefulness
in his latest trial which seems worthy of the medal.
Constant updates on his outlook
and becoming the number one specimen for fashion
were not enough as she looked at him and said
"You still have no swag"
So many disappointments
made him stronger, wiser and smarter
not even a forest of wild beast
will make him turn his back
to the beauty and escapades of life.
The moment he tried to pause,
the period he wanted to take a nap;
the Queen bee passed by.
A simple hi and a conversation
led to series of memorable meetings,
having in mind, the worst is a "no"
and her welcoming countenance,
a proof to nothing yet,
he asked with no expectation in mind
then she looked at him and said
"Yes! Sweet heart. I want to be your girl"
Trinity Garden Bloods 4ever
Poem by Cmack Estevez
I grew with friends from Elementary
I grew with bloods in Middle School that I knew in 2nd grade.
But I never screw up in the poverty North Eastside streets of Screwtown.
Jasper Aaron Banks was my homeboy for life from sixth to eight grade he kept me away from the gang stuff.
He knew I had potential in something unique and special so he wanted me to focus on my writing while he gang bangs.
He told me there’s more in life than being all hard and banging.
He was my nigga till the end
We share
We care
We ride
We didn’t hide
We had everything in common when it came to rap and movies.
Jasper was like a friendly Casper that influence me to the positivity road.
But what struck me was that he ended up being paralyzed by a group of disgraceful wannabe Crabs that dress like crap with bullets bleeding out on his lower back Lord it should’ve been me not him.
His life was ruined when he ended up in a wheelchair.
He was only 13 like my age .
He was so young and so was I
A victim by the hands of a wannabe
They might’ve wet my homeboy up but they couldn’t shut him up forever with them bullets
My homeboy still lives.
I love this guy like a brother and always eternally.
He’s wasn’t no water to me he was thicken blood to me in my sickening system.
He was my family.
But all I know is that I made it as a poet and this is dedicated to all the bloods that I respect growing up with in Houston for 12 years and to the other bloods stay up and keep your head up.
Jasper is my ride and die till the end
Titus Devante Scott is my side nigga
Jamarkus Dwayne Henry my ride and die till the end
And everybody that I grew with in Trinity Gardens in Houston down to that 77016 I’m still loyal and bout it.
Trinity Garden Bloods 4ever till the casket drops.
MY FRIENDS*
I keep thinking of my friends
as one by one they die
so I really have to think of them
as just passing by.
Perhaps at some other place
we'll meet once again.
But it's not up to me say
just where or when.
I hope that I will meet
my friends
so we can just talk
about the good times
before they met their ends
And the times that we lived
as we helped one another
to live a good life
as we would like a brother.
We offered each help
were we to see a need
for friends were always there
and we didn't have to plead
But as time passes on
and my friends go on by,
I look for them all
down low and on high.
But they are all gone
as one by one they die.
So I now stand alone
to wonder just when,
or if ever again,
I will get to see
the ones I called a friend.
* As Secretary-Treasurer of my High School Class Reunion Committee (January/June 1949 class) I keep the data base and record deaths, etc. As I update the data I am saddened by the many deaths of my friends as our age marches on. Also, I am the last man standing out of the eight that formed my band in my youth. Those things prompted the poem.