Happy B-day for me!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday (HOT!)


Dang it I wanted to make it to the 100 post today----have tons to post...later

Knowledge

The sea is dark,the night is cold.
Your skin I taste on a breeze.
I pray to the moon for one more time.(to have you back).

The evening is cold, the sea so dark.
Oh a sweet memory of a lover tale.

Whispered on the ears of men.

The perfume of your skin lingers still,
I once felt a sweet sorrow,
cruel faith by a lover I once knew,
An Angel I once loved.

The night is cold, the sea so black.
Now to darkness I return

embrace like a blanket well knowned.

Heat, Oh heat
cuddle like a child.

Mother’s bosom.

The sea is so cold,

the night so dark.

My sorrows are buried deep,

fuelled by the memories of you.

The searing heat of our forgotten trust.

The moon a cruel mistress, stealer from men.

To the bosom of emptiness I return.

Jamie P. Blaze
Picture: Myspace-Chandra Jean

Western Dream

This is a song that I wrote years ago!!! But I love it(yep, I'm odd) so I'm sharing:)
John with the pretty lips and the swinging hips
its shimming it.
He has pouty lips and an earth beauty
and just when he moves,
he is like apple juice all shinning gold,
he is a flashing thing.
He goes all back, he is old school.
John with the pretty lips and the swinging hips.
He`s a West Beauty.
And when he wears his hat, he just makes us scream
with his black jeans and silver bolt belt,
bring our eyes to him.
To his tight black shirt....
John with the pretty lips and the swinging hips
He`s an old boy who knows all the moves,
all slick and warm,
he melts on your tongue just like buttermilk.
John, he is the one I want,
the pretty one I dream,
the swinging hips I need.
He is like a summer breeze,
all shimming gold, he is a flashing thing.
Sure he`ll never wear a tie,
never meet my Dad.
never will stick around.
But when the crowd beats down,
he`ll be right around.
Flashing his winning smile,
on his Black old Pic,
with a golden air shimming us all in.
John with the pretty lips and his swinging hips,
with his cool hat and tight jeans.
John he`s the one that smiles,
with his straight teeth's and his sexy lips
melts all the crowd like buttermilk.
He is the one boys wanna be.
All cool and laid back,
like there is not a thing out there
that`s gonna mess his beat,
John he is the boy I crave
without his shirt in his tight black jeans
working out my back.
sweating manly.
He is an earth beauty
with his sexy lips and his pretty hips
John, my western dream.

Jamie P. blaze
Picture:Photobuck Hot Cowboy 46.

Scar

I marked you.
Imprinted on you.
Left my howl echoing in the hill of your soul.
My tears stain your skin,
my fears rises thorough your pours.
I'm snagged in your blood.
Worshiped by your cells,
Chanted by your bones.
Misted in your aura.
Chakra points.
Life line, primed instints,
Marked,
you owned.

Jamie P. Blaze

Myself

I'm sitting all on my own tonight,
waiting for a prove of faith, something to moist my lips with hope.
Hunt them down, stay alive.
Everything soo out of reach.
Soul ripping from the pain within.
Feeling stuck in a maze surrounded by cold and alone.
Waiting for a prey, craving some more choices for mistakes,
faith at the palm of my hand, to make what I want. I feel
Maybe I'll be cold,
Maybe I'll mourn.
Ripped with false gods and their acolytes,
waiting still for a prove.
Running from myself, trapped in the maze of my oneness.
Everything so out of reach.
Hunt to stop the pain.
Maybe.
Jamie P. Blaze

Seasons

I cry when she is a winter, she heats up the snow.
I cry when she is a summer, she breezes the world.
I can not make a choice...on when she shines the most.
Is it on pale snow?
Or in hot brazing heat?
Perhaps when there is a wind? Maybe when it brazes, is she the loveliest then?
I cry when she is a spring, her beauty regain.
I cry when she is an autumn, she pales to regrow.
A choice is to be made,
for upon all seasons I love my lady the best.
Whether in the rain, whether in the heat
even when its windy.... I worship her beauty.
So matter the space not the time?
I cry for her loveliness to be immortalize
I cry while she is alive for when the time is to come...
when she is all dead and gone, her soul will burn no more.
No beauty, no love.
Not more worship of my one true love.
Mirrow.
Jamie P. Blaze
2009 Seasons-