Brother Death Poems | Examples
These Brother Death poems are examples of Death poems about Brother. These are the best examples of Death Brother poems written by international poets.
I’ve made a deal,
not much of a price was paid.
One last family meal together—
Dad’s cheeks rosy,
my mother happy,
a playful pinch from my brother,
my sister’s belly laugh.
“What is your favourite room in the house?”
At 8, I said my room.
I was alone a lot,
and convinced myself I liked it.
But now,
in my late twenties,
I cry myself to sleep.
I’ve traded a day of my life
to relive another.
At 25
inside my 8-year-old body—
how do I answer?
The living room.
Where we lived the most together:
movie nights,
salty French toast,
big games,
rewatching recitals—
eating, laughing,
breathing together.
My chest tightens,
my eyes swell.
My dad rests his hand
on my shoulder.
“Well said, baby.
I like this day too.“
Categories:
beautiful, death, funeral, grief,
waves of purple met us when we arrived at her celebration of life
most were wearing it in some shade or another
there was grief
she had been twenty-five
young to be murdered
worse to be murdered while her children watched
they were three and four at the time
would they ever fully recover?
they were not in attendance
I had come for her twelve-year-old brother
he is Asperger, and has few friends
I am the school counselor
his classroom teacher and I had come together
to celebrate his sister’s celebration of life
short as it was
Categories:
death,
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
Categories:
brother, death, football, prison,
For a while, I have been gone,
Not so much for I left my poetry in my stead,
So they read, so they remember...
Yet here I am, alive yet dead.
They look at me with eyes,
Eyes that made mine cry,
No hugs, no hellos, or a faint gladness--
For I am here, alive yet dead.
The house I lived in, now lives another,
neither a friend nor a brother,
A man, they said, had no home to live in.
For I am here, alive yet dead.
The girl in my poems,
Married to another who made her feel
in many ways, all the seasons at once,
Living the life I prayed for in my sonnets.
For I am here, alive yet dead.
There is a sting in my heart
It is silent, yet it plays a noble part
and the dark shades around my eyes
The eyes that have seen so many die
And in the end, they would cry.
What now?
Now there is a darkness nigh
Slowly engulfing me, swallowing me
Taking with me my poems and my dreams
The life I wanted, the family that had hoped
The war that had come, and the lives that went by
including that which was mine.
They look at me with eyes
Eyes that made mine cry
No hugs, no hellos, and no signs of warm gladness
For I am here, alive yet dead.
Categories:
dark, death, fear, world
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
Categories:
angel, brother, childhood, death,
Close together, we chat.
Relatives, cousins - our mothers: the twins.
In the wind, ghosts;
we speculate.
We wonder while we
chitchat and munch.
Distant memories
of practical jokes, tokes;
days before she ran away;
& not questioning her
upon her return.
Sitting on my lavender bedspread;
laughing, listening; forlorn-ing.
Her i.d. tags, army surplus look,
blonde hair; my long locks, dark brunette.
In the Summer week,
we speculate on ghosts;
something we know nothing about.
We stood, took turns
standing over his coffin -
her brother joked
to relieve the tense.
All together, our gang;
our mother’s brother was twenty-five…
My cousin was fifty-two;
in the wind, ghosts,
I’ve surpassed
speculation, leans differently today,
knowing one day,
this world will fade,
as another comes into view.
Close together, we’ll chat,
as relatives speculate.
Categories:
cousin, death,
Night,
Ageless and porous,
Sang screeches of fireflies of
Crescendo-diminuendo sparks.
What hour?
In the midst of the hustles, I lost my hoursight
Different, tonight, is my eyesight, seeing even
Through the darkest foliage of gentle, but sinister
Caress sway.
On the broken, cracked slabs, squatting, dark torsos!
Pensive, broken, sad, old and so good the
Work of Italian sculptors.
Further deep in searching glare, the hardened
Mats of hurried sepultures of returning
Soldiers, whose wellingtons have squelched in
Mudblood.
Wars and battles never post blandishments
On peace.
What hour now, brother?
It is so dark and mean, and my hourglass refuses a
Moon reflection.
But now the hours move fast on march of the
Headless feet in wellingtons.
'Left, right, left, right....'
Dolts hasten among fleeing marabouts.
Stench from ailing, balmed smog
Stills the whiffs of roasting deer, all in
One silence of close hour canticles...
Such phalanx, brother, coldens the head.
Categories:
dark, death,
Your smile is like the moon all silver lined,
I wanted to be by you, time after time.
Your love for sports was quite unreal,
But you never gave up that rid and reel.
Your humour was loved, loved by us all,
But your laugh was the best, best of it all.
I watched when you became a man and you grew,
Just to sit with the boys and have a brew.
Your heart was big, big for all,
No matter the person big or small.
And now that you’ve gone to a better place,
You will always have our love and our grace.
Scott W.
Categories:
absence, brother, cry, death,
their faces, their laughs, the echoes of our past
never leave
they hide beneath the cover of everyday life,
waiting for that moment
when the mood drops
and the days turn wet and gloomy.
they appear again,
just outside my line of sight,
whispering memories
of everything we ever did together.
my mind tells me they’re gone
to let go,
to move on.
i tell you,
i tell myself:
until the day we’re reunited,
i’ll wait.
i’ll hold onto every memory.
for you, my brother,
i’ll visit the place you lay.
for you, whose name i dare not mention,
i’ll wish you the best
with whatever’s left
of the heart you ripped out of my chest.
i’ve loved.
i’ve lost.
i’ve mourned.
now,
i face the shadows of the past,
still wishing
those days weren’t our last.
and on nights when my mind won’t sleep,
you all return
to remind me,
you’ll never let me rest,
and maybe
i don’t want you to.
Categories:
death, deep, depression, emotions,
A Friday,
a plane crash,
a phone call,
all it took
for your whole world to shatter.
You never got to tell them
how you’d follow in his footsteps
in his wing span
You never got to tell him
that you only wished to follow
in that Cessna Skylane
one three-pronged tragedy
became the axis
around which the rest of your stories
would turn
one sorrowful night
changed who you were
forever
and by the time I came along
all your fire
ferocity,
passion
had crashed into electric wire
erupted into flames
had been decapitated
and so it is left to me
to honor your mother,
and your brother
in ways you never taught me
but I learned anyway.
And I will ignore
the memory of Grandpa George,
because he crashed that damn plane
on purpose…
or did he?
Categories:
death, flying,
The grief I feel is of another kind
Sweeter than holy water
A deeper breath than moorland air to find
The black of midnight, not—
Of monstrous seas, but—
Of restful night, donated cloak
From a kindly gentleman to wear
Wrapped in coolest starlight, safe
Astride a destrier — galloping to water
Molted feather — fortuitously found
New flight, gentle wind in gossamer sail.
Creeping tendrils — nettles wind around
Sentries of roses — silken petal rounds
Shower the lily casket — topped by pearly crown.
I know my grief is not the universal kind
But something softer than the norm
Welcome as a friend, I usher in my grief
And death, his brother, dressed in angel white
Scythe to call its sleepers — lowered in greeting bow.
Farewell, Annie
Newcomer to the under-realm.
With no card of sympathy
Or hearse to see you off
In lonely grief you leave your final hurt.
But, relief of death follows me, ebony puppy
Nipping at my heels, my little black dog
Helps my heart to heal.
Categories:
death of a friend,
"Across our childhood’s street we trod on carpet lawn and holy sod. We walked along where some had prayed. Where once we played, he now is laid." From my poem "Where Once We Played"
There’s an old, large graveyard in my home town.
We would not go there if chill winds would wail.
In summer though its rows we would walk down.
It’s also where we buried dear, young Dale.
My brother Dale and I would ride bikes where
we'd see tombstones from many years ago.
I never dreamed so soon he'd be put there
one winter day as down from sky fell snow.
We’ve all moved on, and no one is around
where bones of Dale have lain for forty years
since he was placed into that cold, hard ground
and we stood there – our faces wet with tears.
Deep in Greenwood Cemetery, no hole
holds him, for in heaven resides his soul.
Categories:
anniversary, death,
Bullets have no eyes
In the mourning a son won’t rise
No plan in life for demise
Black men hear our cries
Stop shooting killing each other
We need love not hate brother
Time unwinds while you slang
Dealing in death please change
One mother and father miss
The hope denied by this
Feud so rude and senseless
That dude who killed their kid
You think you had reason to
End a life will bring misery blue
For you have to face the truth
Humanity is lacking in you
You can never undo evil deed
No matter what you plead
At night your closed eyes see
His eyes as life leaves he bleeds
Now your family members know
Who you really are in your soul
A killer despite reasons why
In a cell of a jail you will reside
When you choose to kill a man
You turn from God’s holy hand
You do the devil’s work indeed
You become a slave never free
So we lost you too you see
No longer an asset to be
No longer in the community
Not free to thrive and dream
Can you at least give back
By deterring youth from your path
Can you tell truth and testify
Reasons bullets have no eyes
Categories:
death, america, angst, anti bullying,
This is the 13th Mother's Day that has come around since your life came to an end.
When you passed away, I didn't just lose a mother, I also lost my best friend.
We used to spend Mother's Days together but we can't anymore.
You went to Heaven twelve years ago when you were sixty-four.
You became a mother in 1967 when you brought my brother into the world.
I was born almost four years later and you incorrectly believed I'd be a girl.
An aneurysm ended your life and we buried you in the ground.
I can not enjoy Mother's Day because you're no longer around.
I'll join you in Heaven but I don't know when.
But it will be great when we're together again.
[Dedicated to Agnes johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013]
Categories:
death, mothers day,
Have you ever thought about the raising of Cain?
Where did that boy get a rage so completely insane
that he ended up murdering his younger brother?
Did he learn it from his father and mother,
who must've been in such deep, psychological pain
for having caused Eden to go down the drain.
Categories:
death, anger, bible, brother, christian,