Category: By Larry Brody

LB’s Poetry: “Kid Hollywood is Born: June, 1968”

NOTE FROM LB: 

People always ask how I got started as a television writer, and I my best to give them the condensed, educational, “You-can-do-it-too” version. But the following poem doesn’t just state the facts, it faces how I felt at the time the beginning – um – began. And since the poem was written many years, there must might be a trace or two of how I felt while I was writing this as well:

Kid Hollywood Is Born: June, 1968;
I Want To Write About Dreams read article

LB’s Poetry: “The Love Song of Zane Simon Marx”

NOTE FROM LB: 

I came to L.A. to write for television in the late ’60s, and with my first gig one of what was to be several love-hate relationships, both professional and personal, began. I did pretty well with the professional thing, at least – achieved every one of my goals as a TV writer, actually, although it feels immodest to say it. Many of my friends from that era did the same. And, professionally speaking, some achieved even more. The following is a true story of that time and place, reflecting bits and pieces of us all:

The Love Song of Zane Simon Marx
by Larry Brody

The moon taunts him. read article

LB’s Poetry: The Indian People See Things No One Else Does

NOTE FROM LB: 

In the early ’90s, when I had had enough of Hollywood’s reality as opposed to the dreams that had driven me to go there and succeed, I did when any totally impractical and probably insane person would: I packed my clothing, comic books, drum kit, and dog into an SUV and drove off to the Southwest to see if I could track the magic I had been writing about for so long but never experienced. I found it, kind of like this… read article

LB’s Poetry: “The Love I Know”

NOTE FROM LB: I started my showbiz life in the music business, as a drummer, and played in bands of every genre that existed at the time. The most difficult music for me to play was what then was called Country and Western, because the rhythm sounded like rock but wasn’t quite, and while the lyrics sounded like truth…

The Love I Know
by Larry Brody

Country music gives us the verities:

Love,

Betrayal,

And Death.

I live it all everyday, yet still I listen, as

Betrayal becomes the most beautiful

Possible reward, courtesy of a backbeat

And a mournful slide guitar, and

Death grows more desirable than

The most perfect lifetime, drowning

Betrayer and betrayed in a torrent of

Fiddles that could overpower any tide.

But country love pales beside the

Love I

Know.

No voice, no instrument,

No sequined yoke dress or hand painted

Pair of boots

Has ever been touched as I have,

By a woman whose truth makes

The certainties of Nashville and Branson

As false as an ember from Garth’s

Or Reba’s

Ceramic campfire log.

Larry Brody is the head dood at TVWriter™. Although the book whose cover you see above is for sale on Kindle, he is posting at least one poem a week here at TVWriter™ because, “As the Navajo Dog herself once pointed out to me, ‘Art has to be free. If you create it for money, you compromise your artistic vision by trying to please those who are paying. If you don’t accept money, you can be yourself. Like your art, you too are free.'”

Who is the Navajo Dog? Keep coming back and you’ll see.

LB’s Poetry: “Kid Hollywood”

kidhollywoodcovercoyoteCaptureNOTE FROM LB: A Hollywood poem by a Hollywood guy.

About what it felt like to be this particular Hollywood guy.

For those who want to know more, there’s a longer note after the main attraction. read article