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

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

On Reading

BrockaBooks, PoemsLeave a Comment

It seemed fascinating and titillating. Reading romance novels at the mature old age of ten. My mother had no issue with it. We would actually lie on her bed after a trip to the library and spread out our haul: mysteries; how-tos; self-help. She loved to be read to and was particularly fond of Danielle Steel at the time, so I became the narrator of these overwrought family sagas, affairs, and marital disputes. I presume these themes still drive Danielle Steel books. I never read the more sexually driven scenes out loud; that would’ve been mortifying.   Around this same time in elementary school, there were a few book nerds I knew of on the periphery; these were the ones always reading, and always reading unassigned material. Two … Read More

BrockaOn Reading

Folly of Youth

BrockaPoems, RelationshipsLeave a Comment

A street of houses sits facing an open field with numerous trees. The trees are dense with leaves, and the branches and twigs stretch far out creating a canopy affect. To catch a glimpse through a front window is to sense a private forest. Two tween girls attending the same school happen to be neighbors on this street. They’re more acquaintances than friends. Their social circles are different, and one is particularly snobby with her book reading addiction and proper use of grammar. She’s known to obnoxiously correct most in their class. ‘Don’t finish a sentence with a preposition,’ is a fav. We see how that turned out. How some pronounced worry and lawyer was particularly vexing. Maybe a product of proximity, and the shared status … Read More

BrockaFolly of Youth