Lives of Others

BrockaFashion, Music, Poems, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

I hear the beat and it brings me back to you. We are dancing together in the living room. In our own little world -spinning each other, then pushing apart to individually croon into our imaginary microphones. We are putting on a show in the living room. Attendees are half engaged in muted conversation and half giving us attention. We sing alto and soprano off of one another and when we bellow out the moving, crescendo parts of the song, all attention fully focuses on us. Always. We concentrate the room. We are performers. Many of these people have little in common, but we brought them together.  ‘Oh Lacey, why are you afraid? Look how you get up in front … Read More

BrockaLives of Others

Sleepovers

BrockaMusic, Poems, Relationships, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

Her house is the house. Anyone can show up; anyone can stay. And that’s the draw. But more have shown up this time than ever before and it’s a bit overwhelming. Elbow to elbow, full of body heat. Loud. So loud. Between the energy of the crowd and the bouncing music, the house can appear as if it’s pulsing. She runs through the rooms making sure people are keeping their shit contained. How the hell does she always wake up to a clean house after these parties? They respect! They are not allowed if they don’t. She scolds with the quick. The house is small and she runs a tight ship. She cracks the whip, ‘Empty your ashtrays! Throw your beer cans … Read More

BrockaSleepovers

Memory is a Muse

BrockaArt, MusicLeave a Comment

Memories sit inside like coals that never lose heat. They live in every cell of our being. We carry them along and into our future. We try to separate our thoughts from their recall, ignoring the pull towards the experience; the person; the smell. We put them in frames, and stand outside of them as if they’re art. To see them as they truly were is to freeze time and prevent ourselves from moving on; to admit something about ourselves; to never survive. This is the trauma; the shame; the heartbreak; the loss; the tragedy. How we frame them is how we adapt and how we continue to carry on.   The greatest thing about memories, though, is they can serve as a muse. Muse is the … Read More

BrockaMemory is a Muse

Life of Kings

BrockaArt, Music, PoemsLeave a Comment

I wrote this song many years ago. I never published it with my EP or later as a single. The recent comments by a New York Times reporter regarding Obama’s birthday crowd being ‘sophisticated and vaccinated’ reminded me of some of the elitist lyrics. When I first imagined the song, I wanted it to have the energy of a big musical number set to Mozart-style chamber music. Had I had the production dollars, I would’ve put out the song in order to have an excuse for the music video; of course, I have it storyboarded already. My revived writing dedication has spilled over into music again, and I would very much like to go back in the studio: finish incomplete … Read More

BrockaLife of Kings

Attention

BrockaMusic, Poems, RelationshipsLeave a Comment

You’ve come across a new song or album and immediately like it, and you become addicted to it, needing to play it and hear it over and over till you’ve memorized the lyrics and the music precisely. You’re enjoying it stuck in your head, and you find yourself humming the melody when it’s not playing. You may also annoy your friends when they ride in the car with you as it plays ad nauseam. It’s all you want to hear and sing and dance to. And in hearing it so much, you burn it out; it gets burnt out. You can ruin it for yourself.  Eventually, it moves further down the list of albums downloaded. Through time and new music, it gets forgotten about. … Read More

BrockaAttention