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Brothers

Lets get to the point now
Just because weve got the same mum and dad
That dont mean im your keeper
That dont mean I owe anything to you
You dont care for me
And man I dont think that much of you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
You drove my car when we were young boys
And you tore it up too
You never paid to get it fixed
And you got me beat up a time or two
I know I should forgive and forget
But man I still hold a grudge against you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you

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song performed by John Mellencamp
Added by Lucian Velea
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Brothers O' Mine

Brothers o' mine, brothers o' mine,
All the world over, from pole to pole
All of them brothers of mine and thine
Every wondering, blundering soul.
Banded together by grace divine,
Brothers o' mine, brothers o' mine.

Good Brother Green at the service sat
Sat in the chapel and bowed his head;
Praying most fervently into his hat;
Bending his knee when The Word was read.
For good Brother Green was a godly man
A godly keristian; and what be more,
He loved all sinners, and carefully ran
A worldy and prosperous grocery store.

'Brothers o' mine, brothers o' mine,'
Quoted the preacher, with dolorous drone:
'The Lord He hath given thee all that is thine.
Love ye not gold for itself alone.

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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Calm

Brothers, have you observed the calm?
Even the leaves of that symbolic palm
That denotes peace, political and otherwise, are scarcely stirred
By the faintest breath of controversy. Not a word
Is heard,
Excepting, here and there, the belated spouting
Of some overcharged politician giving his vocabulary an outing.
Brothers, what does this denote?
Is there no longer any competition for your precious vote?
Nay, have you ever heard that alleged political axiom over which the
wily old campaigners oft make goodly sport:
'The memory of the sap-headed elector is short.'
Do you believe the allegation, brothers, or do you doubt it?
And, anyhow, what are you going to do about it?

Brothers, if ever you hope to know enough to come in out of the wet,
Mark this: They are giving you time to forget!

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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Echoes

Brothers!....
(That is to say, those of you that are.
For, even in the most altruistic mood, there are some I bar.)
Brothers!
Workers, shirkers, writers, skiters, philosophers and others,
Attend. I address myself only to those
Of the class that habitually looketh even beyond its nose.
To him I speak who shrewdly seeketh for the milk in the cocoanut, while his fellows are repeating the bald assertion that 'The fruit is not yet ripe!'
Him I address who knoweth the sheep from the goats, the chaff from the oats,
the half-quid from the gilded sixpence, and the common sense from common tripe.
To the 'Man in the Street' I speak not, nor to the 'Right-thinking Person,'
nor 'Constant Subscriber,' nor 'Vox Populi,' nor 'The Bloke on the Train,'
nor any of their band.
For of the things I write they wot not, neither may they hope to understand.
But ye whom I, even I, presume to address as brother:-
Journalists, politicians, burglars, company promoters, miners, millers,
navvies, shearers, confidence-men, piano-tuners, paling-splitters,
bookmakers, process-workers, judges, brass-fitters, policemen and others.
Attend. Him who looketh for the hall-mark on every link, and taketh not the say-so of the label, nor the sworn affidavit of the pill advertisement
him who hath it in him to discern the fair thing from that which is over the odds, and shaketh the new-laid egg that he may know what is within it

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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Perfect System

Im in love with you I know
And I know that you love me too
Im in love with you I know
Im in love with everyone too
Were all comrades now you know
Were all brothers under the skin
With a few adjustments now
Living in the perfect system
The adjustments simple there is really no pain
Youll hardly notice anything has changed
Living in a programmed life never really has ups and downs
Theres no need for fighting now
Theres no reason to wear a frown
In a perfect system
Theres no confrontation
Unnecessary friction
To impede our concentration
Weve simply done away with
Unnecessary friction
I live in a system

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song performed by Oingo Boingo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Giving Me A Bad Name

Talking about your brothers
People stop the fighting,
Gotta move it on
Oh my people,
Now I come flying now
Came flying from a nation
About the seggregation
Still keep it on the part
I wanna know where we gonna start
Yeah yeah yeah, your brothers are giving me, your brothers are giving me a bad name
Oh giving me a bad name,
I wanna fight about now that you know were on the same, on the same...
I think,
And Im fighting,
Were talking about the white knights of the ku klux klan
Beat them, and keep them all them down, keep them down,
You can see a black, and you can see a white...
And we can talk about this order, indicisive
All your brothers are giving me,
Ohhh! giving me a bad name,

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song performed by Jamiroquai
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Brothers Cup

Give it up to this planet full of strife
We're the brothers cup cuttin' sharp as a knife
With the pop of a snap and the flip of a flap
The cups went up like a natural fact

It was our shoulder space
That made the perfect place
For the magic of the cup
To style out with grace
With a tight turn twist
And a slight swerve swank
The brothers cup kissed
With a kick ass clank

We are the brothers cup
We like to get it up
We are the brothers cup
We like to get it up

Give it up to this planet full of strife

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song performed by Red Hot Chili Peppers from Freaky Styley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Do You Like My Verse?

yes, the diary, of some events though too personal about some
rifts between brothers, my brother and i,
am so patient, till the end, though i am older and mild mannered always
seeking to understand the gap of
ten years, practically he belonging to another strange generation
while i keep my mouth shut
my mind open to him: as i reduce him to prose and elevate him
further to poetry, and i am glad you like
this poetry of brothers reaching a conciliation
like some great movies
about brothers karamazov
and their anna kareninas or yes, yes, lady chatterly's
or emma
you never know grace, unlike tina she is not a brown dog
but the brown prima donna of my life

love lost and brothers fighting over some little wars of their hearts
do not attempt to understand
this is purely a private matter of the bastasa family,
rocky maribujoc, roots of molave trees, some streams of consciousness

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Battling Racism

I have wanted to tell my story of Sgt. Vigay.
When we first met, him claiming cool,
and get's Hell out's -is way.
I never felt such hatred, prejudice, like that first day.
That was my first moments, But I swore, I'd make him pay.

It started, claiming he'd whip's my body,
Like's moppen's the hall.
He'd whip's this I'd'ho white boy, in Bassit Ball
There he stood, six three or four, big and frighting.
But I mouthed, moe foe, have you ever seen?
I'd'ho white greased lighting?

The hurts and the banging, I knew what I'd get.
All the money I had, but what the Heck?
I placed life, death, on that six dollor bet.
Battling racisim, I bet they're still wondering even yet?

The brothers all cheered, for their man six feet four.
The fight was finally over 21,24,

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poem by Clyde Bryson
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The Little Homes

We have heard the cheering, brothers,
We have heard the martial peal;
We have seen the soldiers marching
And the glint of sun and steel.
We have heard the songs, the shouting;
But, while forth the soldier roams,
Who has heard the weeping, brothers,
In the Little Homes?

We have seen the gay processions
And the careless, laughing crowds.;
We have seen the banners waving
Out against the peaceful clouds;
Yet, while colors proudly flutter
Over noble spires and domes,
Who has seen the mourning, brothers,
In the Little Homes?

From the Little Homes that nestle
Where the smiling fields sweep wide,

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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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