Ari Meier's Blog, page 5

POETRY: 14 Degrees @ 7.5 A = Fridinarosism

I wrote this poem many years ago inspired from waiting on the bus on a ridiculously cold morning. Winds were nipping at my neck, my eyeballs glazed over with ice and my hand fell off of my arm (kind of).



the chilly ancient wind wrapping itself around me

standing next to the fast car asphalt strip

waiting for my big ride

I'm cold and feeling silly against my anger for tearing into that bus for its slow time

how dare this hot seat driver make me wait with the guilty wind

I made my mind comfortable and sane with the memory of the hot house

but oh, this ancient of cruddy cold winds

whipping me in its frigid smoothee hell

each passing car seemed to carry laughing warm people

as I still carry the patience of my survival

It seems that....one of my toes rolled off my foot

I reached down to pick up my brown okra like toe

to only find that my hand shattered as it touched the toe

my shattered and broken from the arm hand, still held my toe

loosening the other hand from my frozen pocket

I carefully grab the fallen hand

holding it as a statue of liberty torch

only without the flame and the arm angle

my ride arrives (the bus)

happy to leave my evil cold caretaker behind

I hop into the bus, holding my dead balled up spider-like hand

clutching a big cylinder-like bug

the bus heat welcomed me like a thermodynamic mother

Inner City Kids May Know More About Social Media Than Middle America.

"What inner city kids know about social media, and why we should listen. " http://feedly.com/k/16tggAi

The New Acknowledgement of White Privilege

Not to beat a news story into the ground, but I think the public acknowledgement of this is awesome. I've believed for a long time that many whites privately felt this way about "white privilege" and how it relates to their overall treatment in society. It takes a bunch of brave souls to publicly acknowledge this, especially in the face of  possibly being ostracized and ridiculed and even threatened. I also believe this courage should be matched by more of us black people publicly acknowledging the shit that we do that perpetuates the ills in our communities. 



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EROTIC WORDS>Potentials of something deeper happening from having rose petals forming a trail at the 6pm door

When she gets home, the moment is a secret

What looks like a piece of paper on the floor, is a rose
petal

Then 2, then 3 and so on….making a trail of excited mind
eroticas

When she gets to the bedroom door, a note is found
hanging on it

This note gives explicit directions on her next move.

She’s to remove her top and socks.

Inside the bedroom, another note comes whispering at her
from the dresser top

It directs her to remove her bra and skirt

(Her inside is pounding with the enthusiasm of a young
girl sneaking out of her window)

She hears music, a deep slow pounding music

The rose petal trail leads her towards the bathroom

There’s a note on the closed door…it says “covered skin
is forbidden past this point”

She has aroma

Removing her last piece of clothing and opening the
bathroom door,

She sees that the rose petals lead to the bathtub…which
is filled with more petals

and her serious man

She has more aroma…sliding into the warm bubbly water

They get tender and feel each other

She explores every inch of him and they play lips and
tongues

Scooping up his juicy love, water soaked floor

She has aroma, he straightens out all the way

He opens her, placing his nose down to her love Taking in
deep cocaine breaths…she gives more aroma

Then he French kisses her love, while he’s straight to
the sky

She screams and creams

Her love sauce is parted with a whisper

They lock eyes






He’s immersed in her cream of treat

They tangle on and on in the bouncing living bed

Drenched from their merged session

(Rim shots are her thing)

Her mind and body become 1

His mind and body become 1

The 1+1 becomes 1

 (She opens her
mouth, closing her eyes tightly)

Then came the waters, surrounding him

He’s outta his mind, he’s outta his mind, he’s outta his
mind!

EROTIC WORDS>Brain Diary5: The future of love, massages and a room on the 6th floor

MAN:                                             

What’s on your mind, it’s heavy with fear

I know that I’ve been busy with the sounds and art pieces

But, ur
still living in my brain

My body’s n pain from ur absence




WOMAN:

Well, it’s like….he….




MAN:

He?




WOMAN:

Well, my old work boyfriend, is sniffing me

Telling me things, about this about that

My heart’s dim to his bull-shit-ology

He just want some….




MAN:

Pussycat...tales don’t please me

Ur hiding a deeper energy within…let’s talk

I’m sorry for my time bn short with u

If I could only hold u…some more

If only I could kiss ur beautiful, luscious lips, some more

Remember how we could gaze into each other’s eyes and
soul

So intensely, that we could come




WOMAN:

I miss u, your massages, your warmness, your…tongue, your
penis

I miss your words, our candle incense sauna baths

Our bathtub adventure-sexing

The way u ate fruit down there and your nose massaging
me…to orgasm




MAN:

All this talk, uhhmmm, got me in a position

Like meet me on floor 6, lunchtime, personal services

One at a time, glad that u wore your skirt today, uhhmmm

Haven’t had u in, a few days, can’t stay away from u




WOMAN:

I’ll take u ALL in, my lips sealing u in

Taking u almost to the point

Then spreading my legs, skirt up high

I’ll bring u into my fat, wet juiciness




WOMAN AND MAN:

In our friction town, we are the magnets

Merging into each other, we wanted to make love




In our short time, we must f%$k

And f%$king, we are

In this moment, I felt like I completely lost my mind

But it’s good, it can’t get any better than this….

I feel the pressure building within

From my toes, rising

My lips form a frown, like I’m crying

And…. I’m saying….. ohhhhh shittttttt              







5 of 5 poems in a series from my book "The ScreamBed Chronicles: The last days of playas & other insecure men". This is my first Poetrama (my made up word comprising a poorly synthesized version of poetry and drama depicting a "semi-fictional" love affair nearly a decade ago.




Read something good. 

EROTIC WORDS>Brain Diary4: Comeback of the twista and the eventual elimination

OTHER MAN:





Gotta have more of u, a little some at least



While making love to my girl, on a hot moon night



I was thinking of u, our times, and twists.



Gotta have u, be in u….








WOMAN:



Your chance was in your lap, a few seasons back



But remember, your girl that u wanted to respect



The one with the arrow at your heart



I don’t remember when u crossed my mind….





OTHER MAN:

Your legs, I must kiss…




WOMAN:

Your twista, I don’t miss…




OTHER MAN AND WOMAN:

But you did hit it right, in the basement, while your
girl slept upstairs

But you turned me out, in the basement, while my girl
slept upstairs.




WOMAN:

I don’t feel….




OTHER MAN:

Like dancing? It’s a mind thang.

What u feel is the emptiness after me

The non-connection to that….spaceman

I long to massage your wholeness, face, thighs, booty

And U miss my tongue, slithering around and in your
cupcake….




WOMAN:

Your tongue WAS the orgasm mafia hit squad

Touching parts of my cupcake, parts not known

But your chance was in your lap, until your choice

Your choice, screamed the end of our time  






4 of 5 poems in a series from my book "The ScreamBed Chronicles: The last days of playas & other insecure men". This is my first Poetrama (my made up word comprising a poorly synthesized version of poetry and drama depicting a "semi-fictional" love affair nearly a decade ago.




Read something good. 

EROTIC WORDS>BrainDiary3: Conflict brewing a new coffee hell

MAN AND WOMAN

We’re flowing, still knowing

Our times in secret rooms

It keeps getting better, our loving




WOMAN

This other guy’s starting to bother me

His questions dealing with intimacy

Whether my friend and I have gone there

His girlfriend works with us

Knowing nothing of his affections for me

But he had his chance….right?




MAN

My love for my friend explodes red

Sometimes, I feel that something’s missing

Like she’s not telling me something

There’s another energy around her

I long for more mango, juicy mango




WOMAN

Though there’s nothing going on with us….anymore

He’s asking about my friend

Wanting to know what part of me have I shared

None of your business-you girlfriend wracked wreck




He’s….

ANOTHER MAN

Why and what do u see in this “man thing”

U know what I feel, my feelings I won’t conceal

Giving this strange man your time and fruit

Remember our times, the parking garage, u releasing 3
times

I miss u, I want u

I dream u and our passion

I hear u and your screams

Let’s do our thing

Forget his strangeness, he’s a punk  






3 of 5 poems in a series from my book "The ScreamBed Chronicles: The last days of playas & other insecure men". This is my first Poetrama (my made up word comprising a poorly synthesized version of poetry and drama depicting a "semi-fictional" love affair nearly a decade ago.




Read something good. 

38 Predictions: An Infograph about the future world.

People can touch one another through their phones... a digital currency is accepted in the US... Facebook is no longer the largest social network. Read more about these predictions below.



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The Case for Less Gun Control and More Criminal Control

A 70 year old coach walking two girl basketball players home after a game is accosted by two goons, one with a gun, attempting to rob him. The coach pulls out his gun, shoots both of them, killing one and the coach and the girls are safe. I love reading stories like these. This is one of a gazillion reasons why we don't need more gun control as more gun control will likely equal to more innocent and decent citizens being robbed, killed, raped, car jacked and assaulted by criminals who will ALWAYS have easy access to guns regardless of how much 'gun control' there is. 

I'm frankly tired of goons criminalizing my world; so when I read about good people defending themselves against these idiot marauders, I clap like a mad scientist. Just imagine if the coach didn't have a gun, he would have most likely been robbed, the girls may have been sexually assaulted or raped, and ALL may have been killed. 

Was the coach justified in his shooting of these goons?

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This is one of the reasons we need less gun control and more criminal control

A 70 year old coach walking two girl basketball players home after a game is accosted by two goons, one with a gun, attempting to rob him. The coach pulls out his gun, shoots both of them, killing one and the coach and the girls are safe. I love reading stories like these. This is one of a gazillion reasons why we don't need more gun control as more gun control will likely equal to more innocent and decent citizens being robbed, killed, raped, car jacked and assaulted by criminals who will ALWAYS have easy access to guns regardless of how much 'gun control' there is. 



I'm frankly tired of goons criminalizing my world; so when I read about good people defending themselves against these idiot marauders, I clap like a mad scientist. Just imagine if the coach didn't have a gun, he would have most likely been robbed, the girls may have been sexually assaulted or raped, and ALL may have been killed. 



Was the coach justified in his shooting of these goons?



Read more