Rebirth

I crushed the glass,

lying whispers reaching beyond my walls.
False ghost eating my mortal soul,
no scars marked the cheating flesh.
Smoked sack of meat,
User.
Not worth my water,
my possession
or my time.
Beyond lays beneath,
useless Mistress.
Whore for some words,
mistaked heat for warmth.
Worthless cheap,
wish you well.
You made your bed,
time to suffocate in it...
You and her.
Empty promises waisted time,
marked by the reach of the betray,
I live.
Wish you well,
cuddle in her womb,
choke on her nectar.
Acid Vinegar,
seductress worker,
wish you well in her trapped net

Poor boy.
I breath,
my life........
you loose.
--

Jamie P. Blaze

Pic: myspace brandyC.

Me blah

Still cranky...tired.
Head is trying to end me.
Spend all day fixing the doggis coat, fluffy long haired dog is a bitch to fix when tangled up:S
So...Tired and cranky.
Cough is better!
Fever comes and goes..
Winter not making me very happy now.

Middle of the night, so no sleep here as allways:)

Jay

Me blah

Mehh, trying to write is not really working anymore now:(
Empowering music..not really helping...
Reading of favorite ebooks....well, yes to the cheering--But Murder on the Editing front.
Tired and crancky.
Have a slight fever and cough--freaking winter!!!

Icecream was bad for me.....Coffee is the nectar of the Gods:)
Movie time--no sleep here as allways:)

Jay

Avism

Breath.
Back from the avism.
It stared back.
I stared along.
Need for coffee transported me to shore.
Broke the spell.
Enchanted fell.
Mortal companionship I longed.
No contest.
Civilization, my human pals.
Heirs to kingdom.
Trapped by concret, surrounded by actions.
Festering in 'Could haves'
Avism?
Airpoort of the xxi?
Same?
Back

Jamie P. Blaze


Pic: Frank Louis by beautiful Mag.

hiatus

It's been long.
so long.
I allways thought tomorrow I'll post. Tomorrow I'll write.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
I forgot abouy today.
In a broken city with a useless heat, forgotten.
Hiatus.
Fancy word.
Excuse of no words. Pamper of the fragil ego.
Tomorrow is today.
No more wait.

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-

OWIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ow, god OW!!
Holy heck that hurt!! I did my pinky left foot finger in!!
::wimpers::
It hurts....Its all purplelish and I can't stand on it..and OW--hurts.
I have Arabian Class tomorrow and I can't stand on it:S
Bugger, it really does hurt plus it added sooo many extra minutes to my time table(minutes I don't have) I spend all day hobbling around::wimpers::
Its all swollen and ugly....

Me, need this week over---NOW!

5/11 and 27/04

Hey. So usually I just don't want to bother--anyone. Not today. Its been 10 years(well last November) I don't celebrate the anniversary.
10 years..sill haven't found the words. There is nothing right or wrong to by said. Except "look around" there are people that care. About you
It was something they had to do. Not because of you or me. Or to spite us. It was their choice and ultimate their lives. There is no one to blame, takes years to accept that. Can't blame our self only celebrate the moments we had. Cherish the moments we shared.
It is so hard to let go. Not to second guess every word and action we made. They left. Not us.
I wont say "Pick up the pieces or move on" Just...different path not walked roads.
Do not look back and cry.
Find your glass and raise a toast. Celebrate. You meet that bright light. One soul per human. One heart per body.
Their choice.
No more crying.

Jamie P. Blaze--Still here

JR(1958-1998) and CCR (1968-2003)
Still in our thoughts, still in our hearts.

Jamie P Blaze Find

So now you can find me on Skype as: Jamiepblaze
On facebook: as jamiepblaze
On insane journal as: jamiepblaze.insanejournal.com
And on livejournal under luxluthor until I change!
Oh, email is jamiepblaze@gmail.com
Lets see if it works

My love

This is my favority passage/poem what ever.
Bejamin on Angelus Novus(painting of Palu Klee)
"An angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread.
This is how one pictures the angel of history.
His face is turned toward the past.
Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet.
The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. This storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grow skyward. This storm is what we call progress.”

If I where to write every hour of every day on any time, I could not achieve a gram of his in site here. So cherish I shall.

Sho bunny sho

Marriot Blanche and Chester Adams. Gay couple stuck in the bible belt after avalanche.
Under the advise of their couples therapist. They had each tried to be in each others shoes. Marriot tried golf and schmoozing ended up with a broken leg. Chester tries to use his granddads journal to write a book of memoirs after a trip down the stairs. They are force to go on a vacation that breaks their mold. Lack of communication puts them on a coach train to the south.
After many stumbles and near disasters, they realised they are happy together. As workaholics who bulldoze anyone who gets in the way. They like wining and dining and staying in high class hotels, fighting is part of their day. No need for a pre bake relationship with the stamp of approval.
The moral is that Chester and Marriot realised, you can be happy being just you. Having a partner doesn't slow you down and there are things you do for are loves one on the day to day bases that have more value that a Tiffany cast off. Be true to yourself and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

I'm not writing this. I'm really really not--even If if I just did nearly 4k of it. I'm not. This was a plot make believe for and his com. Not doing it...
Maybe a few more words wont hurt...

I looked upon a mirrow

Once upon a time
we made love grow with us.
We stood upon the mountain of time and laugh at fools sorrow.
Arrogance temper our decisions and prioritize our choices.
We made love
Found happiness beyond all dreams.
Human error showed us our faults.
Once upon a time, we fell out of the tomorrow train.
Check out brought our bags weight down my arrogance.
We stood on a pile of nothingness.
Proclaim ourselves to be kings,
a castle of dreams..no more offers from time.
Rulers of Nothing Hill.
More than one wrong choice...Human nature.
Arrogance undiluted.

JamieP.

Piece of time

Grains of skin,
piece of time.
Leaves keep turning,
sand washes sand.
Confidence in our stones,
no worries until dawn.
Dead vegetation surrounds,
pastel animals rumble.
Traveling dessert streets,
memory of ancient knowledge,
bloodline eaten by time.
Grain of sand keeps shifting
confidence in the sun, dawn.
Worried for the leaves,
dead animals linger in the air.
Humans struggle,
they survive.
Sand washes sand.
Grains of time.

JamieP.

A summer Breeze

Now spots darken the sky,
strips of me float in the wind.
The deep gashes and sores mare my skin,
pain, wish for a never never chance.
No clouds in the sky,
the pain of humankind lingers on the breeze.
Floating the scream of the damned,
Pondering our penance, the dark spots we can't hide.
Wishes are like clouds, obfuscating any chance to worship the sky.
Strips of skin,
pounds of tears,
river of blood adorn the streets.
Shame of humanity lingers on the world.
The voice of the damned demand the free sky.
Lingering in the breeze,
crying in the sun.
No clouds,
no spots,
free sky.

JamieP.

OWIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OW!!!
(Pick curse word of your choice)
Son-of-a-Goat!
I burned my hand.
I was in the kitchen trying to make tea(hot very hot) in this glass-jar-thingie...and the next thing I know is pooch scrambling away.
The glass thing slipped my hand(and no I don't know how) and the boiling water drench my right hand(my writing hand).
I pour water and the cream stuff, but the skin is all red can't bend my fingers. And fuck it hurts.
Ow! Goddamnitall.
It hurts...

I spend all day reading books/lj post anything to try to distract myself from the pain(nice nurse came a bit ago and gave me some pain killers plus the cream my doc said).

I had just gotten my last burn clear. I accidentlly touch the hot oven with the top of my wrist(I had half a band of dark skin there)

This is gonna fucked up my study time. I lost a full day.