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James Douglas Stevenson

 

 

Personal Tributes

 

 

Across the waves and many miles
Sad news arrives as an email via a posting
of the parting of someone I really didn't know
Our only words spoken here
On these boards in friendship and jest. 
 
My deepest and saddest thoughts and condolences
To Jamies Family and close friends.
Farewell Jamie
Thank you for your friendship on the Dome

You were the only one who really made me feel welcome here
Rest Peacefully

 

 

Kzam
Krys from Australia

 

 

 

              For Jamie

 

              If there was another way of thinking

              twisted,obscured, fractured

              you'd be the prism, reflecting that other view.

              If their was a beauty in the torment

              of a muddy pool of thought

              you were the crazy diamond of a fool.

              Misunderstood.

              Difficult,

              but funny.

              Tortured,

              broken,

              darkly sunny.

              Coughing your breath, like front line bullets

              and landing the targets, you wanted to find

              There is a deeper silence tonight

              an emptier place

              and a new star in the firmanent of the night sky.

              There is a gentle whisper

              from the bedraggled face

              almost saying this last goodbye.

              I've raised my glass

              and downed its contents

              I've read the words you left us with

              Ive nothing left but words myself

              to go with you in peace to live

              Goodbye dear friend

              for friend to me

              you were this once

              and will always be.

               

              goodbye....

               

              Mindmanuk

 

 

I first met Jamie about a year ago when I noticed his posts on the writer's group, the PleasureDome. I remember thinking, what a character! Must get to know him..And I'm so pleased that I did. We began chatting about our lives, philosophy, spirituality and anything else that came to mind and I soon became aware of the fact that Jamie was one of the most interesting, unique, people that I've had the privilege to know.


Jamie was a man with a brilliant sense of humour. We laughed together so many times. And I couldn't begin to count the times that I've been glued to the screen watching his posts appear which were often absolutely hilarious.


I knew Jamie as a compassionate man who would always be there if you needed to talk. He lived his life with a passion and with an unbounded love for his family and friends.


I miss you, Jamie.

 

Miakoda.

 

 

 

Ages ago, a character calling himself “Lambeckle” turned up on an msn site called RationalMadness. He posted some fascinating stuff; asking, are you a fat thinker? and other such questions. And there was a wonderful poem about the teeny-weenie-tiny men. Most people who replied were nonplussed. They didn’t know what to make of him. But rather than frowning, his posts made me smile. And thus began my friendship with Jamie.


We came from different worlds, but we understood each other. We frequently infuriated each other… but there was also so much laughter, so much fun. And so much creativity. Jamie invited me to join another msn group, the PleasureDome. He considered this one his real home, although he was a member of many others over the years. He started posting his autobiography: the wonderful “whatever became of tights?” Brilliant stuff, but often incomprehensible to anyone who didn’t know him and how his mind worked. So I took on the job of editor. Together we created “Bubbles of Turbulent Delights”. His life; his words; his story – ‘translated’ into a text that anyone could read and enjoy. During this time he also wrote wonderful poetry, and inspired me to stretch my imagination and grow as a poet and storyteller.


I knew that he was sick, and he knew that I was sick. He took the time to learn about my illness, to understand it. He worried so about me at times, when all the time his own illness was so much more severe. I thought he was indestructible. He’d survived so much… but the vehicle finally broke down irrevocably. The engine will still be whirring away somewhere. Perhaps he’s walking with his prophet now, discussing the third sex option; perhaps he’s been granted his wish of coming back as a cannabis plant, to give someone a few moments of pure pleasure.


I miss the creativity; the way we sparked off each other. I miss the chats, laughing our heads off over the latest shenanigans on the Dome. I miss him telling me all the news about his family; what the boys and Corrie were getting up to, and of course all the affectionate little tales about Mo.


I miss my friend.

 

Cathy Edmunds.

 

 

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