On Poetry

BrockaMusic, PoemsLeave a Comment

We are all so polarized, now seems like a fabulous time to argue on behalf of something. There are two types of people in the world: those whom read-write-enjoy poetry and those whom do not. These ‘do nots’ haven’t even mustered disdain; it simply doesn’t exist. My relationship with poetry as a thing to tend to or enjoy has ebb and flowed. I have been under a misconception the bulk of my adult years, believing myself to not care for it. I can’t specify the recent trigger, but a lightbulb switched and I found myself admitting I’d been writing it the bulk of my life. I’ve written songs since I was a teenager. My brain had somehow separated song writing … Read More

BrockaOn Poetry

Edible

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I gravitate towards attractive packaging You called out to me Clean and simple, but complex -much to the imagination I read you for the details Are you true to the claims Can this sustain me? -a short fix to satisfy a craving  I open you and little comes forth Weighted by accumulated ingredients What has been taken by all those who wanted you before? I don’t have a taste for that Hold it back. I want to pull you apart I end up spilling things out -here’s your taste of everything  Make a mess of a savoring state  Can I save you, how do I preserve this? I want to feel like I have earned it As if I don’t deserve you now, I try to ration you out Small bites at a time -decadence for my mouth and my mind I cannot handle … Read More

BrockaEdible

Exit Into This

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Another subconsciously aware sleepless night; at least once a week. Walking feet coming up behind me, both dreaming vividly Proposed, to commit suicide over a crime with two other guys sitting bitch-seat of a convertible, approaching an elevator… to shoot up. To eliminate ourselves I bail at the last minute. There is time. With a cash-wad, folded over Bent to go in hiding. So many heavy themes in this ONE, no sense denying him. Now religious fasting Two concepts bide, law of attraction vastness open inside of me, opens void to keep filling The atheist finds their vacuum, and the scientist beaker is starving Kiss me this, a chin turns sideways In life where we spend our time and with … Read More

BrockaExit Into This