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Poems On / About BROTHER  7/28/2015 12:47:47 AM
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Best Poems About / On BROTHER
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Three Brother Melody

Finger-memorized the chords to Jan and Dean at the tender age of twelve, played a song with his friends, first band; what a show they made, hands playing upon the throaty neck of a Gibson SG that his older brother lent him, Tom, the eldest, teaching both younger brothers their harmony - a lacquered dark brown body, rosewood neck, chrome tuning pegs; it was a beauty they all agreed, then harmonized more – The White Album,
all friends, a reverb amp, and song,

talked with hands because words failed in his throat as the doctor intoned that their newborn second son would not live, he simply died in his arms, such a small boy with
the sheen of new pink skin, dark-pooled eyes, such small fingers to grasp his father’s clenched fist of a throat that could not utter the symphony of life which had eddied so suddenly; such a beauty he was, and would have certainly sung like his two now-grieving uncles - all song and laughter and family,

strummed his youngest brother’s favourite Beatles’ song at his unforeseen funeral, packed to the rafters with adoring friends and family because Don, full of stories
and too much booze and always the laughter, somehow found a crowd gathered ‘round, guitar cradled in his hands, a veritable one-man show – his last guitar, a Tak, red sunburst, dreadnought shape, its bright sound to match the acoustics of his life -
all beauty and song and family,

wrote on parchment paper with ink an older brother’s last wishes, the song in his throat stopped because the cancer silenced both vocals and tongue, but not the chords - vibrant with lyrics and life, warm mid-range tones of his most-prized Washburn, tobacco-warm brown, sunburst finish; all his guitars well-loved, the fingerboards near-hollowed because he hammered the shit out of all their frets, Gibson and the South American nylon-strings; hard on them because they were meant to be played, like his life –
all laughter and family and song.
Deborah E Cox

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My Little Brother

My little brother is my toy
Always making me play with him.
My little brother is my happiness
Always making me happy when I’m sad.
My little brother is my soul
I wouldn’t be happy without him.
My little brother is my earth
It might fall if something
Happens to him.
Sarahi Molina

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Waya Disgitisdi (Wolf Dreams)

Like a brother I will stand by you forever
and we will walk the red path together
like a brother of my own blood
I will love you and watch over you
from your eye's I will wipe your tears
and ease your aching heart from pain
like a brother I will protect you from your fears
when you feel alone in the night
like a brother I will help you see it through
and be the bringer of light
like a brother beside you I will always remain
Spiritwind Wood

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The Man Who's Down

IT is well enough to cheer for the brother who is up,
It is fine to praise the brother who has captured victory's cup;
But don't keep your kind words always for the man who's won renown,
For the boy who really needs them is the fellow who is down.

Give a cheer when men deserve it, shout your praise for them to hear,
Don't reserve your admiration till a man is on his bier,
But remember as you wander every day about the town
That a kind word will work wonders for the brother who is down.

For the man on top is happy, and he has a thousand friends,
He can always get a kind word, no matter where he wends,
But the brother who is striving to attain a laurel crown
Often needs a friend to help him. Don't neglect the brother down.
Edgar Albert Guest

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Poems On / About BROTHER