"Dont dream it. BE it"- Dr Frank-N-Furter, Rocky Horror Picture Show.

As my earlier post suggests, I am a poet. I wasn't just saying so to sound all mysterious and jazzy. Though my poems sometimes are a little offbeat and roughly flowing, thats just my style :D

So,this first poem, the first of many, is one of my most recent ones. I wrote it a few months back while recovering from a boy. Enough said haha.But heartbreak and teen angst always go down well in poem form. I dont show many people my poems, and at the advice and encouragement of my mum and dad, I'm finally sharing them with everyone :)

And dont worry,their not all about boys and how I think their cake sniffers. ( this lingo, "cake sniffers" is just a little catch phrase I've been calling people,and my self at times. Havent decided what it means..but I did take it from a Lemony Snicket book...so who knows what it could mean :D) I have got a mix of poems.

so heres the first of many for you folks :D

Untitled.

He used to sit with me and smile

I was on his mind

but the boys a liar,has been for a while

he's a scratched vinyl record

been playing now for far to long

I'm sick of chorus,wanna change the song

a magician by trade,and knows his stuff

wowed the crowd for so long

but this assistant caught your bluff

I used to look good in your rolling stones shirt

sitting next to you being a flirt

the whisper of words to the girls before me

to young and nieve to really see

do you feel big now,does it feel good

carving my name into the wood?

your a broken toy soldier 

with a stolen uniform

spare me your war stories 

I'm trying to repair whats been torn

I've seen you with her

you suddenly slipped away

gone like the sun from the evening moon

to fill sunshine into another girls day

I've seen the record begin to play again

my heart remembers the beat

and the blinding pain

does she remind you of me?

am I ever on your mind?

did it ever matter?

or are you used to being blind?

my perfume stained your stones shirt

a lingering ghost of the girl who's gone

one who's soul is ripped and burnt

does she hld your hand?

is her skin as smooth?

does she understand

or will you bleed her too?

right now your together

a seed planted in the dirt

off i go on the road of life

I bet she looks good in your rolling stones shirt.

This photo of my artwork compliments the poem. I drew it at a time when I felt the worst about the situation. Just a quick rough drawing :D

I'm off chaps! Thankyou ever so for reading!

xo

Brookus  

Edge Of Seventeen.

Well it appears that my first blog was something of a success and people seem to enjoy my musings :D

excellent.

I might not get to write many blogs in the next month or so, the dreaded and evil yearly exams are almost upon me! And I fear for my life.

Also, my birthday is coming up! September 9th everyone,put that one in your planners, IPhones and calenders. :D

Let me tell you now, the past 4 birthdays I've had,have left much to be desired. Lets take a trip down memory lane and revisit why I look at those birthdays with a strong dislike :D

2005- When I was in year 8, my school held an event called the walkathon. It just had to be my luck that got me stuck with having to walk 20kms on my birthday, while being forced to wear pink as that was the theme for the walkathon, and have to carry around all the gifts my friends gave me.

Basically, God decided to give me the present he knew I would "love" most. Having to exercise to the point of wearing my feet down to bloody stubs, being forced to wear the colour pink and having to carry about 4 bags of gifts.  Happy birthday to me!

2006- Then, when I was in year 9, I was all looking forward to my 15th birthday! I had my party all planned and was mega excited! And then,tragedy struck as on september 7th, I was cut down in the prime of birthday excitement with the flu, the first time I've ever been sick. It hit like lightening,one minute I had a sore throat,then 5 hours I was passed out in bed,where I stayed for the next 6 days. To make matters worse,on the night of september 8th, some of my friends had arranged to go to the circus. THE FREAKING CIRCUS PEOPLE! The first time the circus had come to town in about 10 years,and I had to ring them and cancel. *insert angry face* Woke up on my birthday,sick as a dog,opened my presents, felt like I was going to faint from being out of bed,went back and thats where I stayed. I thought to myself- "come on Brooke! You can do it love! get better in time for your birthday tommorie!". But no dear children. My mental pep talk was nothing in comparison to the power of the deadly flu! Mum had to call all my friends and tell the party was off. I didn't get that party until 2 months later in November. Happy Birthday to me!

2007- This birthday was probably the worst I've ever had. On this day, I woke up,and before Happy Birthday was even said to me, the words I had been dreading since the moment my parents announced that we were moving were spoken- "WE SOLD THE HOUSE".

:O

All day, I sat around moping feeling so upset and angry at everyone that I didn't even stay with my family for birthday cake. I've never felt so sad in my entire life. Cue BIG fight with my parents over my rude behavior and gifts given(which I didn't end up receiving until the end of september) Happy Birthday to me!

2008- Now, dear children, we come to present day, and as I receive my exam timetable for this term, I find that I have to sit through a dreaded religion exam. Not as much as a harsh deal as other birthdays have been.. but still. If I was going to sit through an exam on my 17th birthday, I'd rather sit through art or drama. :D Happy Birthday to me! 

Lets all hope my string of Bad birthday luck breaks next year for my big 18th! Which I might add, falls on the 9.9.09 

I'm so special :D

I'm off chaps, and thankyou ever so for reading :D

It's showtime!- Betelgeuse

Greetings!

After seeing many other blogs of this nature, I decided to gain one myself.

How many people will find the musings of a soon to be 17 year old particularly fascinating?

I'll soon find out.

My mind is an ever spinning wheel constantly gathering new information that i ponder over right before I retire to sleep.

I'm a poet and an artist. "you cut me, I bleed ink"- Howard Moon.

I tried reading a teenage magazine once. It gave me a panic attack. It's a high-fashion skinny nightmare. 

The power of the written word is an amazing tool. The speeches of world leaders, movie quotes and lyrics from songs are the most powerful weapons in this world. Reading a book means escaping to distant lands that only I can reach within the sanctuary of my mind, and I travel there on the words of the author.

A photograph is a gateway to another time, a look at a different person and a reminder of a memory.

Acting is the chance to be step into some one else's shoes a tell a story begging to be told. Where else can I get the excuse to dress up and use funny accents?

Music is the language of the world. We all walk to a beat and have a song in our heads. You know you cant help but sing along to the chorus of Hey Jude and feel those inexplicable goosbumps.

Laughing is the best therapy. Being able to make people is the best feeling in the world. A laugh isn't complete until you at least snort or cant breath :D

Art is confusing, weird and wonderful. Where else can you paint a can of soup and call it art?

Life's full of mysteries. Like, why is it that I cant seem to be able to buy new underpants and still call them mine after the first wash? Somehow, at least one of my sisters lays claim to them.

This is life through a 17 year olds eyes. I'm sure everyone remembers a time like this. A time where everyone tells you constantly how much you've grown, have you got a boyfriend? and what are you going to do with your life?  

Yeah, I've got a question. Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe? - Bender, The Breakfast Club.

I'm off chaps!

Brooke.