I assure you, this 2:43 seconds will leave you breathless and your heart beating faster. You will know at once what poetry is, what art is, ….You will know, and you will not be able to forget. Advertisements
EL BROOKMAN
The Hidden Message on the Pieta
I want you to think about a large piece of marble weighing around 9000 pounds. A man was contracted to produce a work for a Cardinal in the church in 1498 and complete it by 1499. He was twenty-four and… Read More ›
Making America Gr-r-reat!
President Trump is President Tony-the-Tiger, making America Gr-r-reat again and everything is Gr-r-reat! You just can’t spell “gr-r-reat” this way without lots of red lines created by auto correct in Word Perfect. No doubt about it, I accept Trump… Read More ›
4 Exciting Facts You May Not Know About The Writer, EL BROOKMAN.
#4 While on a raucous night out in his youth in Washington D.C. with some of his buddies, he passed out. They bought a ticket at Union Station and placed him on a train. He woke up half way… Read More ›
A Clean, Well-Lit Room and an Elevator To Escape The “Nada.”
In a Hemingway’s short story he showed the way to escape the pain of the “nada.” In order to survive with dignity, to cheat the “nada,” one has to find a place, a pleasant place, “with the light, a certain… Read More ›
Grain of Sand
Don’t underestimate your life, Your dreams or your place in history. I know you feel as “just a grain of sand” Among trillions, helpless and caught in just one wave Among trillions crashing onto shores. Life and others will… Read More ›
Cool Hand Trump: “I Can Eat Fifty Eggs.”
In the opening scene of the 1967 movie Cool Hand Luke, Paul Newman’s character is seen cutting the heads off a small town’s parking meters, destroying two long rows of bureaucratic parking slot machines with no payout. It… Read More ›
The Night of Temptation Eyes
My teenage hormones were out of control. Every day I saw my brother Larry come and go in his new, mean-green AMC Javelin. A 343 cubic –inch, four-barrel V8, 280 horsepower machine that went from zero-to-sixty in less than… Read More ›
Noir in a Small, Southern, Florida Town
How could I have known this night would lead to my hyoid twitching from the cold blade of a barber’s razor, and butchery amid the smell of Bolt Barbers Bay Rum? What takes place on a Friday night… Read More ›
Don’t Wish Me Happy Birthday Without Reading Lines or Snorting Some.
Instead of birthday wishes, consider some lines from my poems which are worthy of a read, and with my ego, a head bow from John Keats or tip of the hat from William Butler Yeats. For most of you who… Read More ›
