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Eargasms Volume 5: Focus On Lizz Wright

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 12:24:44 CDT

Sensual, smoky, smoldering, sultry, earthy, ethereal, effervescent, and lush, these are words that come to mind when I listen to the music of Lizz Wright.

Her voice is as smooth as glass and lulls you into a sense of bliss. Listening to her is like burning incense. Before you know it the fragrance of her voice has permeated your insides. Like the smell of fresh incense saturates a room.

She is usually categorized in the jazz section of music stores but upon closer inspection you can hear in her music influences of blues, rock, country, folk, gospel, R&B, soul, and any other type of music that is meant to be more than overproduced studio sounds.

Eargasams Volume 1: Music For Your Soul, From The Soul…

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 18:54:48 CDT

By Jair The Literary Masturbator™
Music For Your Soul, From The Soul…

I just recently relocated to the Bay Area of Northern California from Southern California. The transition at first was going pretty rough but now that I have gotten a really good job and started to learn the area more things have turned out better than I could have ever imagined.

Eargsams Volume 2: Billy Strayhorn “Lush Life”

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 18:50:30 CDT

You may not know the name Billy Strayhorn, but you certainly know his music. Even if you aren’t a jazz fan you have heard his signature Duke Ellington tune “Take The A Train”. It’s a song that lives in the strata of music as a seminal composition helping to define Ellington as one of jazz’s greatest influences.

And We Did It… Slow

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:58:18 CDT

By The Literary Masturbator™

And we did it…
Slow

It started when he called me at work and said, “I didn’t need anything. I just wanted to hear your voice.” I made sure he was okay and told him I’d see him at home at the regular time. “I’ll be waiting for you”, was the last thing he said to me, seductively, deliberately.
And we did it…
Slow

I got home to find the smell of incense permeating the air in every room; every candle we owned was lit, giving the apartment an incessant enlightening glow. I walked through the living room and discovered him in the kitchen, at the stove making rice to go with the ground turkey that was cooking in the oven. I wrapped my arms around his waist pulled him towards me and kissed the back of his neck as I grinded my stiffness into his twin peaks.
And we did it
Slow

We took our time and melted into each other. We savored each touch, each caress. I kissed and licked his shoulders as the stereo played, “Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This”, by Rachelle Farelle and Will Downing. Did he plan that or was it just a coincidence? He turned to face me and draped his arms around my neck; our tongues searched each other’s mouths. His fingers running through my dreads sent my senses into overdrive, “put the rice on simmer”, I whispered in his ear.
And we did it
Slow

Wearing nothing but his beige warm up pants with the orange stripes on the side was an open invitation for my tongue to taste, touch, and tantalize his nipples. My lips and teeth became jealous and demanded their opportunity to partake of those two raisin like nubs on his smooth brown breasts. As I was redefining the word succulent on his torso he undressed me. We lay on the warm linoleum. Hands, fingers, lips, teeth, and tongue exploring each other. Navigating pleasure as the CD changer made up its mind to play Mtume’s “Juicy”. We instinctively moved into a 69 position and simultaneously began to suck and slurp each other.
And we did it
Slow

Beautiful Daydream of Friday Mornin’

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:56:59 CDT

By The Literary Masturbator™

I caressed his cheek

Our bodies lay entangled

I could feel his heartbeat

Skin against skin
Flesh dissolving into each other

His exhaled breath softly forages the fine hairs on my chest

Flashbacks of our lovemaking filled my recollection, bombarding me with sensations

Kisses…soft, deep, loving

Affection

Intimacy

Surrender

We gave into the passion that had been building between us

I massaged his back as he lay beneath me
My hands surveyed the deep contours connecting his shoulders

My fingers solicited moans as I manipulated his vertebrae
My touch both electrified and calmed him into welcomed soulful blisses

I lay on top of him, kissing the back of his neck, stroking the freshly shaved scalp of his bald head My dreadlocks fell across him, tickling his pores, tingling his senses

My full body’s weight bearing down on him
I began motioning my hips between the two crescent moons of his ass

My manhood growing, elongating, throbbing, nestling, and driving us on a journey we are taking together

He blew out the air he had been holding in his lungs
It was safe to…

Release

Music of My Mind

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:54:16 CDT

By The Literary Masturbator™

I sit in silence, in solitude and I…breathe

Breath is life

Breath is spirit

I breathe in the stillness, and exhale any thoughts and beliefs that are contrary to peace and abundance

An ancestral drum beats and I hear it as it sets the cadence, the pace of my being

I walk to its rhythms, synchronized to the thump of my heart

As the blood courses through my veins, the beat is solid and set for only me

I am dancing to the tempo created in the music of my mind

Copyright ©Jair 2007

Aguirre

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:52:59 CDT

By The Literary Masturbator™

He is a flame that ignites the embers of my soul

A slow burn

His eyes, his eyes are the pilots creating a fire inside of me that smolders underneath the surface

Continue to Full Story for remainder of this poem

The Day The Fountain Spoke

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:20:09 CDT

By The Literary Masturbator™

As I walked into the courtyard

The fountain began to yell

It spoke of the many lives it had seen

It had many stories to tell

The fountain admonished me to listen

I dared not say a word

The only time the fountain stopped speaking

Was to comfort a thirsting bird

I no longer dismiss water

As something merely plain

I pay attention to the water

Whether ocean, pond, or rain

For it is in the water

Where you can be set free

That is what the fountain said

The day it spoke to me

Revolution

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:06:36 CDT

By The Literary Masturbator™

The Revolution will not be televised but if you’re not careful The Revolution will pass you by

The Revolution will not be seen on myspace
The Revolution won’t be viewed on youtube

You can’t google it; post it on Craigslist, bid for it on Ebay, or text on your mobile phone or other messaging device, Can you hear me now? GOOD!

The Revolution won’t be in a blog, and it won’t be voted off because the tribe has spoken

The Revolution will be trivialized, ostracized, demonized, politicized, revised, categorized, sanitized, sensationalized, overanalyzed, institutionalized, and if you are not careful the revolution will happen right before your eyes, but you won’t be aware enough to even visualize

One day you will realize that if they keep you looking outside…you won’t bother looking inside and The Revolution will keep passing you by

“You must be the change you want to see in the world”, said Mahatma Ghandi

You see The Revolution is You, The Revolution is me

The Revolution will include
gays, convicts, addicts, attorneys, and the police
Muslims, Hindus, Christians, College Professors, and Sikhs

Blacks, Whites, Asians, and Latinos
Nigerians, Russians, Salvadorans, and Filipinos

Poets, pimps, preachers, politicians and prostitutes
You will be amazed by what a revolutionary constitutes

It takes strength, courage, and wisdom
A deep well of faith, hope, and optimism

Do you want it on your rice and gravy? Do you want it on your biscuits baby?

The Revolution will not be televised but if you’re not careful The Revolution will pass you by

And as we are caught up in a culture where more people vote for The American Idol than the American President and statistics of Black and Latino women who are becoming infected with HIV is on the rise… it is time to Revolutionize the way we act, think, speak, and be

You see The Revolution is you, The Revolution is me
I mean even Dorothy had to get caught up in a tornado to realize everything she needed was already inside
So keep your head to the sky
So The Revolution won’t pass you by

Copyright 2006 Jair

Eargasms Volume 4: Music That Heals

no@spam.com (Jair Trice) — Sat, 07 Jul 2007 16:06:12 CDT

It was September 1991, one of those moments that would change my life profoundly but at the time I didn't know it. I was searching, my soul was yearning but usually when you are missing something you don't know it until whatever it is you are seeking is found.

I am a certified "church boy". I grew up Baptist and for the most part I loved every minute of it. I was a choir director, faithful to BTU, Vacation Bible School, sold fish dinners, and had a gleaner during lent. My step-father was the Pastor and my mother a dutiful Pastor's wife (including being president of a couple of minister's wives organizations.) Even though I didn't get a lot of personal abomination messages I was taught that being gay was wrong in the sight of God