[WALKING IN SLEEPY SLUMBER] A ONE WORD TOPIC CHOSEN BY Noma Kofi BaahTHE WORD WAS OBSESSION

[WALKING IN  SLEEPY SLUMBER] A ONE WORD TOPIC CHOSEN BY Noma Kofi BaahTHE WORD WAS OBSESSION
THE MUSIC FOR THIS SCRIBE...
http://youtu.be/NHkp0niYqLA

Every day a child somewhere wakes up in a ghetto and wishes he could be somewhere else... all these places he hears of where children are free... castles built on the uncertain solidity of shifting sand.
Collapsing into particles of thought that become the silica of our being... hardened like glass... these fragile lives.
Surrounded by the music of these decisions.
Living seems to have become the obsession as so many seek of fountains of youth under the doctors knife and in bottles of medicine that come in unmarked packages.
So many die in ignorant ways while trying to portray an image... False idols and distorted ideals.
Lies told to keep humanity at each others throat... war and desolation on city streets in the heart of democracies where babies are born into poverty.
A smokescreen of insurmountable proportions as the rich control the poor and grow fat and full of the meat of lambs who call themselves flock, the shepherd has become the beast... skin of sheep... heart of the wolf.
Fat cats and hypocrites... bloodsuckers and parisites feeding the obsessions of fattened calves.
Sleepwalking while awake in the ghettos of Babylon.


jerald hamzahfaruq murphy

[STARGAZER]

[STARGAZER]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE AND ITS SUPPOSED TO START THIS WAY... KEEP LISTINING...
http://youtu.be/tts0xCxh8KE


A star hanging in the endless void of space where life surely flourishes on other planets... a ponder to wonder if they think as we.
Endless war and needless death at the hands of supposedly sentiant beings... man so caught up in his ways that he can't see past it.
A hand waved in the dark is still there as you see when it slaps you in the mouth... it hurts just as much.
A ride on the surface of a world as it spins out of control with man as the captain... dead ass drunk with his power.
Burnt embers as the comet of realization strikes the surface with the force of 1,000 nuclear bombs over Hiroshima... shock and awe as waged in the streets of Bagdad.
Poppy fields in Afghanistan where U.S. troops load the planes.
Governments that rape and pillage the weak as endorsed by the church, the temple and the masjid... got to tell the truth, got to show and prove.
Standing under the mantle of the universe on a starlit night on a mass of land staring off into outer space... where all we are is a big blue marble through the eyes of a telescope to an alien scientist.
So much potential controlled by so few as this rock spins round and round a star... reflecting off into space.
The absurdity of the situation still stands... how would man relate to an alien when he can't relate to man.
The stars, the stars, pressing down... pressing down.
The stars, the stars, lifting we up and away.




jerald hamzahfaruq murphy