Long Brother(a) Poems

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~ (~) ~ (Four Parts-Part #3) Dedicated In Love To My Little Sister ~ Tina Marie Haynes ~ (~) ~

My Sister when I was about 8 1/2, I am 38 now, passed away but before she did, she told 
everyone this... "I am going to be Ok, and will be with God... I will get a new pair of lungs and 
some wings to fly with Him in Heaven, and I will be His little princess..." On the day she 
passed, in the midst of the dust floating in the room. Rays of light shown through that morning 
right on her on her bed, covering her, and I truly believe that God came and picked her up 
personally Himself that day, and carried her off to Heaven with Him...

Precious on her last litter had a kitten that looked, and I mean looked dead on herself... So 
we named her Princes... She was the most crazy cat I have ever known... and had an air 
about her that said to all... "Hey!" Look at me!" "I am a Princess" ... She was so very proud of 
herself for this, but never neglected her Mother's way, and was never disloyal to the family... 
She always loved to play with us and her Mother (Chasing her around the house, daring her, 
and reminding her to play), because I believe this... She was just crazy about life... "Just 
crazy about it, and as grateful as her mother, and my SIster," because though my Sister, 
though she was very spirited about her condition. She still desired to live her life just like 
another child her age would, and would carry this burden from time to time, as it would come 
to the surface, and make her blue, the fact that in reality, she could not... So princes would 
just fly around the house like a whirlwind, and would always come to land in someone's lap, 
or arms or beside you in bed purring or at the foot of someone's bed at the end of the day, 
and would awaken as lively and in a dead run, to do it all again the next day... We loved her 
dearly too... because of her adoring for her life itself... and the energy that she put into 
enjoying it... Because she too, had lost her little brother, a few hours after he was born...

She too reminds me of my Sister Tina, in this way... That life is sometimes a struggle, but is 
always evolving and always comes back to itself in time, and is always turning full circle... 
and is forever advancing towards all in gratitude... and exists and moves abundantly, within 
itself and lives for this one passion...





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3C7DECI0jU&feature=related
© James Long  Create an image from this poem.


Strong For Too Long

You've been sitting in the dark
Wondering for so long.

It's been forever
Since you started feeling so alone
Drowned by the voices
And haunted by the demons

A happy facade 
Is all it took
To have others believe you were fine

You couldn't look so sad
If your job was to be so happy
To have the fans worry
Was the last thing you wanted

You were caughdtt in the nothingness
And your lyrics said it all
Your voice screamed out
Through the meanings behind the words
And through the music videos 

But the thing is
You've been fighting on for so long
All the pressure they've brought upon you
All the words of reassurance
That never did anything 
But add to it all

You've battled through depression
And your words; the lyrics
Were things you wanted said to you

All you wanted
Was to be told you worked hard
To be told you did well
You wanted others to notice

And you never really hid it.
You never saw the point
You always showed it because you believed
There was no point
In being fake happy three hundred and sixty-five days a year

You believed that people should know you
For who you were
You shouldn't be showing off a fake you
Because it got tiring

You were a role model and inspiration to many
You were a brother, a colleague, a friend and one of the best people to walk this earth.

Many will miss you
Many will remember you
But nobody will forget you
And the impact you've left
Not only on your group
But on the world

You were kind
And funny
And gentle
And weird
You were all or nothing
And that's what we loved

You were a bright soul
That changed many
Your voice was a voice others went to
When seeking reassurance, hope, happiness, cheering up and when they just needed to escape when they just felt numb
You were our go to 
When things got tough

Your voice was something special
But you were something more

You've held on for so long
You've been strong for too long
And now, today, 18th of December 2017
You've left the world

But you've changed us too
You've opened our minds
And our hearts
And hopefully the world's too.

Thank you for existing, Kim Jonghyun and may you rest in peace.


[ A poem dedicated to Kim Jonghyun, a Korean singer from the group SHINee. May he rest in peace and may his fellow members and family cope well. They are in many's prayers.]

Premium Member " the Life of Me " Page 1 of 2

My name is James, born 1961
In Inverness, a small Scots town
To my father Andrew, and my mother Beryl
And Billy my brother, a pair of devils
 
In 67, we woke one night
Our house was ablaze, full of orange light
Our neighbour next door, for whatever reason
Started a fire, it must be crazy season
 
We had too move to a caravan park
By this time it,s three, to make a new start
My mother Beryl decide to leave
But the three of us left, never bothered to grieve
 
In the next few weeks, we ended in court
Two small children, in a marriage abort
We were asked to choose either Dad or Mum
But we ignored the parent, who went on the run
 
As we left the court, to start a new life
We felt sorry for Dad, as his illness was rife
He never told us that he was unwell
It would upset one of his boys, as the future will tell
 
Then came the night all parents dread;
Being told one of his boys is nearly dead
We were going to a boys club, on a Monday night
My brother was running so far out of sight
 
I turned the corner to see him ahead
No!! he's been hit by a van, Boom's  Boom's dead
I ran to my father, sreaming and crying
I'm finding my life,at 7 - far too trying
 
After the funeral, and with my father unwell
We left Inverness, our eyes a swell
To go as two, and not three as before
It's like Mother Nature closed a door
 
So we headed west, to a place called Fort William
Was it in the stars, cause Billy " is " William
We moved there, as the air was so pure
Hoping my father will find his cure
 
For whatever reason, we left the above
We found no Angel or peaceful dove
So we headed back to Inverness
Fathers health decreasing, life still a stress
 
Over the next few years, i was fostered and loaned
In couples houses and children's homes
It was really strange in all those places
Different people, different faces

Then on the 16th of Feb - 76,
James, i was told, your dads very sick.
The cancer had taken your father away
To be with Billy, where you'll join them one day

In 77, i joined the Navy, as i promised my dad you see. 
I did'nt enjoy it, i decided to leave 
Back up north, where my futures to be 
I wanted to have, what my parents had lost 
And that was my aim, no matter the cost

see page 2 of 2, ty..


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php
Form: Rhyme

Out of the Shadows

What stirs around me is evasive and true 
A light appears over me glowing and spinning
I get a calm feeling when and ever it's due
People have seen it, gasping and pointing
They say "what was that, what did you just do?
There was a light spinning around, like a ring"
I always ask "what did it look like, what color hue?"
The usual answer is red and blue, what was that thing?

There was this family vacation where I was presumed dead
My older brother, a friend and I climbed up the back of Half Dome
We made it up Quarter Dome easily and wanted to push ahead
Half Dome was unreachable, six degrees of granite stone
We decided to go down it's face, through slides and lips
Cold winds chilled us as the sunshine elapsed
As darkness finally came, we found ledge where we could sit
Stuck halfway down, we blamed each other as the night passed
Suddenly we saw distant flashlights, a rescue team? We yelled
A group of five climbers made their way over to us
They thought we were a rescue team, sent up when night fell
Finding only three kids who had absolutely nothing
They questioned us, where was our spotlight, ropes and pins?
After a full inquisition about our flood light,  they quit talking
At daybreak we all repelled down in an eerie silence
Finally down, we all shook hands, no one had died
Blue lipped, weak and in disbelief, we bowed to pray
This halo had got us back to camp, where mom and dad cried
A hundred search and rescue had searched night and day

The reality of this aura is undeniable
A thousand close calls and brushes with death
Everyone has said it's just indefinable
Turning my head in time or steering East instead of West

I live day to day with a bullet in my spine, it's true
My back feels like a constant third degree sunburn
All the doctors could say was "Oh jeez, lucky you"
Pastors would come to pray over me, all in turn
This went on for weeks, until one even threw holly water
I barked "father, you do this to everyone here?"
He replied "you have a gift, we travel many miles to see your shimmer"
They had come just to see me, he left and I cried so many tears

My eyes still water up when I think about those days
There are no lessons here on how to escape fate
I can't even claim this glowing stays the same
Just my story of faith, light and how I was saved
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member World Day Against Racism

You asked me the other day, my friend, 
who I am and I replied:
I am you in another body!
Yes, it is true,  
Look, how much the same we are,
No matter what, the color
The creed
The race
The status

Look, 
I am born and I die
I suffer and I enjoy
I love and I hate, just
Like you!

I am a father, a brother, a son, 
A mother, a sister, a daughter, just   
Like you,

Happiness I seek, 
Family to raise is my wish, 
Peace to find I look for,    
Just like you

I yearn 
I abhor 

I fear
I hope

I bleed 
I heal, 
Just like you,

I believe
I doubt 

I accept
I refuse

I laugh 
I cry, 
just like you

We are alike
We are the same
We are brothers...
 
Children of a unique father. 
 

Tell me, 
My brother, 
My friend,
My ally,  
Why do we have to oppose,
To fight
To hurt
To destroy and
To eliminate 
One another?  

Are our seas really that narrow,
Our oceans that small,
Our lands so limited 
To contain all of us?

Or
 
Is it the case that 
Our hearts are not big enough 
And our minds not so wide-open to 
Enfold all mankind?     

Listen to me, my other self:
It is up to us to change this world 
We have inherited, with its virtues and vices,
History and culture 
Flaws and merits 
And
Try to make it 
Better
Nobler 
Kinder and more caring
By obliterating harmful beliefs, 
Demolishing injurious divisions,
Destroying detrimental distrust, 
Annihilating racism and eradicating 
The erroneous feeling of poisonous superiority 
For 
To bring the dawn of a new loving world, 
A world of acceptance 
Of respect 
Of justice 
Of equality
Of love and 
Of universal brotherhood

So as 

With peace in our hearts, liberated we would be
From the past’s deleterious tribulations
That for myriads of years, 
Have kept us, fighting one another!


© Demetrios Trifiatis
     21 MARCH 2015


Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015




NOTE! Today because of the “ World Day Against Racism” my moral duty, couldn’t let me stay away!
 
This poem of mine is an old poem of 2013 that has been edited and improved today thus it is posted now as a new poem! 

* I did this for all my friends who wish me to come back. I will come back when I am ready! Thank you for your love!


Premium Member DJ PunTable

The bridge/ Hear that?/ Snap it pop it / Not the one of stone and steel, holding cars and trains  aloft/ This bridge hums/ It vibrates/ yellin’, mo’ funk and groove please woven into the boss horns strung with a bassline thick as smoke and Clyde Stubblefield holding down the fat beat/
 Acid Jazz snap pop snap de beat/  tradition on one side, diggin’ for the now, for the new/ Jazz, ancient and revered, but dust collecting on the shelf, needed a spark, a jolt, a psychedelic brother a sister like no other/ Acid Jazz, the answer/
 A handshake and a high five between jazz straight ahead and a synthesizer’s jazz fusion swing/
   A knowing nod to Coltrane remixed into becoming the nu  Acid Jazz king/Trane is way dope  now to a whole new listening audience/
 
 skillfully crafted club bangin’ acid jazz lick and samples/ the veins of hip-hop, throbbing hard and raw as DJs scratched the beats deeply rooted in the arrangements of funk jazz numerology/
 Did deep house feel its pulse, its rhythmic pull/ Broken beat, fractured and funky, did it recognize its kin, polyrhymatics and the turntables… Oh, the turntables sang a different song/ a revolution spun on vinyl, a rebellion built on rhythm, Jazz and Soul/ Rap, HipHop and acid jazz as a Voice for Rebellion and Social Change / DJ Kool Herc, a sonic architect, laying foundations in the park and party basements/ Grandmaster Flash, a surgeon of sound, slicing and dicing the beat/ Afrika Bambaataa, a global sound system, uniting tribes with groove/
 yo bruh, reality check/ They weren’t just playing records, they were playing the instrument/Scratching, back spinning, beat juggling – a symphony of skill/ Mix masters, beat captains,  electronic alchemists, wizards behind the wheel of Hip Hop fortune/ They birthed a new language, a dialect of dance, a history rewritten in the hiss and crackle of vinyl on a HiFi Stereo/ Acid Jazz… Modern Jazz… Trip hop, Latin Tech House/ The DJ Culture… Rap, Hip-Hop, a family born from a shared rebellion, Formidable, Definitive/ Each is a testament to the power of sound, to the bridge built on a bassline, drum sample/
 a thump, a bump  on a low rider jam/ to the future forged in the fire of the beat/ The voyage is not over/ I have a fear of standing still…like I’m outta of here/
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

Ask and Remember

Ask and remember 
Every time I think of you.

Ask your friends, they say to remember your kindness, your dimple, and your smile given to everyone you met from a store clerk to the governor.
Ask your friends, they say to remember how charitable and optimistic you always were whether winning or in defeat.
Ask your friends, they say to remember, how you helped so many yet you didn’t ask for anything in return.
Every time I will think of you.

Ask your brothers and sister and me, to remember, all the football scrimmages in the yard or basketball half courts or viewing either on tv. 
Ask your brothers and sister and me, to remember, your consoling words of “get over it” when we were lonely or sad.
Ask dad, your brothers and sister, and myself, to remember, all the times you lifted him up, gave him support, and cared about his daily needs.
Every time I will think of you.

Ask your teachers, they say to remember what a good student you were and how you were awarded to Boy’s State to learn how to govern. 
Ask your coaches what they say to remember, what an amazing golfer you were, and how you continued to play even after the accident that would have left others unable to walk again.
Ask your fraternity brothers, and they say to remember how you were able to plan, set up, and attend a party and still make your grades and graduate.
Every time I will think of you.


Ask your employees, they say to remember you gave your time and money when anyone didn’t have something to eat, a car to drive, or a place to live.
Ask your MDA volunteers, and they say to remember, you shared the spotlight with all that helped any event succeed. 
Ask your coworkers, they say to remember, you always gave encouragement and said the way to answer the phone is “It is a GREAT day at the Lake of the Ozarks!”
Every time I will think of you.

Ask your daughter, she will say to remember all of these things because you were her father, our brother, a son, and a friend.
Ask your daughter, she will say to remember that you were able to love and care about her the best you knew how.
Ask your daughter, she will say to remember how proud you felt because of the woman she had become and her ability to help others as you had done.
Every time I will think of you.

Freedom Before My Lost Brother

Freedom before my lost brother

They march before the rising sun with guns at six
We stand before sun down with signs of freedom

Who really marches to the same drum? 
When my hand have been blown off for beat
The beat, the beat, the beat

As he races from the explosion of freedom in his chest
For freedom
To escape this tide of hate
That swept us slaves of red, white and blue

And he is nothing like before when hate took him away
He is a man at six and we are still children as adult
War took my hands and feet I am no solider
I fight for freedom not money
You fight so this tide will not cross-oceans and sands

We fight here for food and light
And light, to breathe, to die for family
Across the ocean hand my son an ak-47
And he will march and kneel before God for forgiveness

Hand my brother a ruger and he will stand in the shadows for American greed
Greed in the land of freedom and hope, black in the shadows
And mother can mend wounds here across the oceans she can only dial 
Extensions..... 
Of relief
Mother over there must know how to be doctor and surgeon, and warrior for the 
Next 
Generation to survive, to live

We cannot procreate; we are the ends of mankind
With bombs in the hands of babies
To extend our left hand of hate across the ocean, across towers of hope

We must all be the same here a million mile from each other
My skin dictates that I hate, be hated, I rape, be raped
I bleed red, white and blue
Watching in shock, disbelief as red, white and blue goes up in flames in the 
Ashes of the wind just like you

Freedom can never come to me here before her with that torch 
My mother across  the ocean must be sending me a package of death to kill my 
four father
Your four father because my complexion means that no one can see me
 I am a lost brother, forgotten sister 
 Hated child with no hands, no hands in freedom

March me before television cameras, signs of peace, and words of love
I am still a lost brother............ before truth
But you knoe me so well..
From the the same box that caused my cousins in your land to be hung
Money means nothing here, Money means every thing beside her with the torch
Pass it to me so I may freedom---the truth
Form: Narrative

A Charge

There is a charge for the naming of the stars
A week long trip to mars, and a cup of creamed coffee
Alongside a crumb-filled plate.  
There is a fare, a fare, if you dare,
Take a swim in the Delaware
Take a swim in mid-winter.
There is a fate to this loneliness
If you care to see it.
There is time, time to write poems if you’ll give yourself the time,
Time to aspire to your demise,
I no longer despise thoughts of suicide,
They’ve grown to comfort me
And these words, written in solace
Beneath the black ink of the pen 
And the wet salt of my face,
Beneath many thoughts and tears that I can’t describe.
Don’t touch my shoulder, 
My shoulder doesn’t exist.  
Don’t look at my face, I am not a pretty girl. 
Look with the look of a thief, you try to steal my soul,
Give my soul back to me!  
I no longer exist!  
I exist as the beat of hummingbird’s wings and I don’t know what to say about that
Every place belongs to it a different feeling, a different charge
A large charge, a very large charge for the hearing of my fate,
Most ears are plugged to it.
They are plugged to the sound of my decline, 
They choose to hear whatever their ear finds devine,
And I fall, into the dark, unto the candlelight
Which gives me more life than a mother,
A brother, a sister, a timeless friend that I knew,
Grew with, another time
There is a time to grow a time to fall a time to decline.
It’s thanksgiving day and the afternoon and I don’t want to be hear.
I don’t mind hearing the voices from afar, its just when I see your expression 
matching with your face and I feel the meaninglessness of this place and I hear 
the uselessness
Of these sounds, they penetrate my body with a sting,
A sting so sharp it kills my social skills
And solitude has been knocking a long time now 
So I may as well heed his calls.  

Suicide has also been knocking, and I’d like to heed his calls.  
I hate the holidays, they make me so sad. 
I like to look at guns, though I hate violence.  
I like thinking about the day I will shoot myself, 
Though no one can see through me, 
No one knows I have these thoughts,
Though dangerous, that is the way that I like it.

Shadows

In the shadows of my mind, appear images of children playing, building stilts, climbing trees, melting crayons in pop-cans, designing houses out of cardboard boxes. A creative bunch they were.


 In the shadows of my mind, I hear laughter, lessons in life, and dreams of the future, positive attitudes towards family, self-worth and confidence in who we were and what we could achieve.


 In the shadows of my mind, I feel mischievous, playful, comfort, security, a sense of acceptance and belonging.


 In the shadows of my mind, I see a mountain of strength with a soft heart of gold which casts for me footprints, I cannot fill, and a peak I cannot grasp.
 So I live in the shadows, created by you, my dear brother, a chance to experience through and with you these things which will forever stay in the shadows of my mind.


 You and your beautiful spirit created this place, "The Shadows in My Mind", through your love, your creativeness, your protectiveness, your sense of family, loyalty, and courage.
 But most of all, you have shown me, through your actions, the ability to experience, "True Love", which few are blessed to experience in this Life's journey.


 Upon your start, of this new spiritual life, I am left with only, "The Shadows of My Mind," till we reunite in the spiritual world once again.
 Thank you, for being my brother and touching my spirit. You made my life experience a better one.
 As I will always remain,
 Your Shadow





















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Worthy Tribute to Shocking Loss of a Loved One - Make it Art!

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by Jonathan P




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