{IN THE HIGHER HEIGHTS}
THE EMOTIONAL LEVEL WE FIND OURSELVES ON AS WE INTERDIMENSIONAL LISTEN TO THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/YiNvdtYr3eo
If I took you to the outer dimensions of my mind could you or would you survive?
Would you roam lost in the antimatter... The dark matter that is echoed in my skin... in my heart.. In my syncopated words.
The rhythm of me as I resonate higher frequency.
Would you or could you overstand the mechanics of survival on foreign soil where my stolen ancestors are still vilified for being hung, raped and mentally tortured.
The mathematics of such a horrendous scheme as another black body falls felled by the gun of the police...
A driveby... A robbery.
The sum of the equation.
Suspended animation as we repeat the same tale over and over again... Looped and spliced and played out on big screens as reality T.V.
Babies crying in dissatisfaction on the soundtrack as life speeds by the sleepers eyes.
He frozen in carbonite waiting, waiting for better days that will never come if he does not awake.
His prison virtual is the only existence he knows as the planets and the asteroids spin... As his ship drifts in subspace...
Beyond the timelines and constrictions of his teachings... his learning's.
A mother looking at a picture of her baby who died so young... He killed by the demon inaction and systematically induced crime.
The savage and brutal tale of the have and the have not's.
The laugh track at the irony is cued... The audience sighs.
There is no day in the depths of my space... there is no night.
I drift interdimensional...
My sight... My sight.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
THE EMOTIONAL LEVEL WE FIND OURSELVES ON AS WE INTERDIMENSIONAL LISTEN TO THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/YiNvdtYr3eo
If I took you to the outer dimensions of my mind could you or would you survive?
Would you roam lost in the antimatter... The dark matter that is echoed in my skin... in my heart.. In my syncopated words.
The rhythm of me as I resonate higher frequency.
Would you or could you overstand the mechanics of survival on foreign soil where my stolen ancestors are still vilified for being hung, raped and mentally tortured.
The mathematics of such a horrendous scheme as another black body falls felled by the gun of the police...
A driveby... A robbery.
The sum of the equation.
Suspended animation as we repeat the same tale over and over again... Looped and spliced and played out on big screens as reality T.V.
Babies crying in dissatisfaction on the soundtrack as life speeds by the sleepers eyes.
He frozen in carbonite waiting, waiting for better days that will never come if he does not awake.
His prison virtual is the only existence he knows as the planets and the asteroids spin... As his ship drifts in subspace...
Beyond the timelines and constrictions of his teachings... his learning's.
A mother looking at a picture of her baby who died so young... He killed by the demon inaction and systematically induced crime.
The savage and brutal tale of the have and the have not's.
The laugh track at the irony is cued... The audience sighs.
There is no day in the depths of my space... there is no night.
I drift interdimensional...
My sight... My sight.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
