Hard Times

(HARD TIMES) A SEXCAPADE
THE SOUNDTRACK...
http://m.youtube.com/watch?list=PL24cV6IIynraS1Pekb_J3843Aj-Dh9Gea&v=IFwiRu_hCU8&feature=plpp

It was a Friday and I was at "Hard Times" a club on Alabama Street.
I was at my table... You know the one in the corner.
Always got to sit with your back to the wall and your eyes on the door when you roll like I do.
I rolled a blunt...
Sensimilla... cause that's how we do it.
Me and my crew.
I saw her when she came in by herself.
She was so fine I remember thinking Oh she's here to meet someone and I dismissed her.
That's what you do when you roll like I do.
Money no object and that goes double for a woman.
I lit my blunt and leaned back in the chair as people walked by and gave me dap, bought me drinks which I didn't touch.
Some of these motherfuckers weren't friends and I don't trust motherfuckers anyway.
Bitches will drop some shit in ya drank.
The lights on the dancefloor painted patterns on the floor and the walls as the music thumped.
Clairmont the owner came over and dropped a stack of hundreds on the table and he took the seat next to mine and leaned over and said "I appreciate what you did Idren" Clairmont was a Jamaican and I did dirty work for him.
Mainly enforcement but other things as well...
I was the weedman round this way but I had my hands in other pots as well.
His fine ass wife came over and kissed him on the cheek and squeezed my hand.
Clairmont didn't see that, and she sat by him.
My crew was over at the pool tables and my boy Chris was cleaning everybody out.
He had started playing when we were kids and that motherfucker could shoot like Minnesota Fats.
Trick shots and all.
I passed the blunt to Clairmont and he pulled on it as we made small talk.
The music slowed down and Clairmont told his wife to get to the bar and help and she rose and started to leave the table.
Clairmont told her to get a move on and slapped her on her ass and it jiggled under the thin fabric of her dress.
She turned and leaned down and kissed and hugged him and winked at me over his shoulder.
She had been trying to give me the pussy but I knew that was trouble.
I would have to kill Clairmont and I didn't want to have to do that.
His supply was to strong.
He leaned in and told me what he needed, asked me if I could handle it.
I looked at him like he was crazy and he laughed at that.
I know you got me Chaingang.
That's my nickname, and people always assumed it was because I had been to prison.
I never had but I never corrected em.
It added to my image.
He got up and walked to his office and I leaned back.
I was by myself tonight and since I didn't dance I watched the booty bounce on the floor as I nursed my drink.
I saw her walking towards my table and she asked me if I had a cigarette.
I said yes and gave her one.
She asked if she could sit down and I said yes.
She asked me my name and I said Chaingang.
She said "What kind of name is that and I told her how I had gotten the name.
By punching someone in the mouth with a choke chain wrapped around my fist.
She looked at me and said "Do you still do that?"
I said "Only when I don't have my gun."
She looked at me and said "You're serious aren't you?"
I said "Serious as a heart attack in church."
She said "I have seen you before, you are young but you seem so confident.
You walk with purpose."
I really looked at her then.
She was about 35 with short hair and a grown woman's ass.
But there was something else about here.
The music bumped and I asked her what she was drinking.
She said gin and juice and I ordered her one.
Clairmont's wife brought it to the table and made small talk.
Checking the competition out.
She left and the woman told me her name.
It was Susan but everybody called her Sue.
She worked for the state... The division of something or other.
She asked me what I did and I said "I make things happen."
She looked at me and said "What does that mean?"
I laughed "Do you really want to know the details?"
"No."
I said good and asked her why was she there by herself.
She looked at me and said "Cause I wanted to meet you."
That kinda hit me hard.
"Why."
"Cause I do. Now let's drink and talk."
An hour later we were looking into each others eyes and I knew it was bout to go down.
She excused herself and went to the bathroom and I paid my tab.
Clairmont's son gave me dap and was all in my business " Fuck that shit up sun."
He was raised in New York.
Sue came out and he watched her ass as she walked to the door of the club and waited.
I dapped him up again and walked to where she was.
Her car was parked in the back of the club in a dark spot and it was a big body Impala.
We got in and she leaned over the seat and kissed me and all hell broke loose.
I slid my hand under her dress and pulled her panties to the side.
She moaned and I slid two fingers in.
She was unclamping my Dickies and when my dick came out she looked at it and tryed to wrap her hand around it.
She couldn't.
I kissed her nipples and she cried out.
She pushed me back and kissed the head of my dick and sucked it in.
She tried to swallow it all but couldn't.
I pushed her back and held her feet as I slid my dick in.
She scratched my chest and screamed as I fucked her.
"Get this pussy!"
I obliged her.
All of a sudden she started chanting "Fuck... Fuck... Fuck!
She scrambled from under me and said look as she rubbed her clit furiously.
When she came it was a flood and it splashed her and me.
That shit turned me on so much I grabbed her and fucked her rough.
I turned her over and fucked her from behind and as she came again I shot off in het pussy we collapsed and she said "My husband can't fuck me like that."
I saw a shadow on the window as someone moved away and raised my head as I wiped the window.
It was Clairmont's wife.
I looked at Sue.
We was gonna have to work this out cause this was good pussy.
When I looked in her eyes I knew she felt the same.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

SNAPPING PUSSY

(HONEYSUCKLE) SNAPPING PUSSY
THE MUSIC FOR THIS RIDE… SO DETRIMENTAL...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6PoIl2R-noc&feature=youtube_gdata_player

I kiss her flower and she sighs.
Her petals so soft enthrall me and I manipulate them with my tongue.
She lying on a blanket naked in the cool air.
Nipples like large grapes from the feeding of babes she no stranger to a man’s attention.
Yet I am not ordinary man.
I smell what she likes in her particular scent.
My beast reveals her flavor… The way she likes it licked.
He stands poised like lion, like bear, like gorilla…
Your juice, his drink.
You flow across his tongue.
He I strain to contain for were I to release him fully she would be a dick whipped fool… Following me blindly around.
The beast smiles at that thought as she falls to her knees and kisses the head, spits, sucks as much as she can.
He looks into her eyes as she slurps loudly.
He feels confused… For a second there he felt… Love?
He pushes her back and looks into her orbs of brown and they seem to fall away into the deepness of where he exists.
She kisses the beast (me) and he mounts her hard and drives into her womb.
Her eyes widen… The beast likes that.
Her pussy tightens around his dick…
Let’s go…
Tightens again.
He roars his pleasure… Damn she feels so good.
She screams and squirts and covers him in her cum.
She is of the snapping pussy clan.
He is lost.
I feel my nut surging through the tubes.
Life bearing seeds.
I press her legs back and splatter the back wall of her womb.
The beast says… “Marry me.”
I tried to hold him back.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

FRAMEWORK

(FRAMEWORK)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE…

You in repose such a lovely work of art.
I sigh for there is so much more I want of you.
From the time of my birth I have been warrior.
Born on the hardest street in the hardest neighborhood in the city.
Born in a place where slavery under a new name held black people down…
All the while all you see is the skin I am in…
What I was when I had to be beast.
It assuring my survival.
I lingering in your air as a molecule drifting across your brown skin…
Wafting to your nostrils scented opium, it my link to true power.
I so locked in a passionate embrace with the thought of love.
Holding it against the black and grey hairs on my chest.
Whispering its name.
Talisman that keeps me from fading away… Becoming as transparent as clean glass against a morning sky.
Beast tranquil as the birds sing of ancient romance, same songs that were sung in a garden paradise echoing in these modern times.
I lost in the framework of your art as it unfolds before these eyes.
Becomes your solidity.
I see you in HD, such a lovely muse that at times it has moved I to tears.
I painting you in these character’s
and lines as you in repose fall from my mind.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(OF EMPRESSES AND WARRIORS)

(OF EMPRESSES AND WARRIORS) A COLLAB FEATURING LATRICIA MAZYCK
THE MUSIC FOR THIS COLLAB…
Latricia Mazyck
My Liege, what wonderful scribe passeth through thy pen and ‘Twas InKed on textured paper… Embedded within this scribe is the love that poureth from thy own heart…
Jerald Murphy
Ahhhh Latricia most fair.
Thy words burn in mine soul and causeth mine eyes to well with water at the heat of their scorching flames…
The breezes of thee… Fanning… Fanning.
Sending them sweeping with urgency across mine planes.
Thank thee empress.
Latricia Mazyck
Thy welcome cometh toward thine castle o’er yonder… swiftly it cometh to blanket thee with warmth and pure love from mine own heart to thee My Liege…
Jerald Murphy
I cover mine self with thy softest fleece and find myself comforted in a cold hard word…
I on knee accept thy welcome willingly fair maiden…
Daughter of kings.
I a warrior of flesh and blood cloaked in thy comfort becometh invincible
Latricia Mazyck
Alas! My breath is taken aback as I let out a soft-toned moan…
My cheeks a-flamed in a milk-chocolated blush;
which is apparent whilst a yawn surfaces itself from deep within… Involuntarily I acquiesce…
Slowly as my blood becomes cooler in my veins
For the heat overwhelmed me without warning…
Ebony eyes twinkle in unison with the Moonlight… A smile softly tip-toes across my face…
Jerald Murphy
I find myself slain in the depths of loves dungeon…
Willing prisoner to your manipulations as you are to mine.
I so lost as thee causeth my head to swell…
I  swoon in loss of blood to my receptive brain.
Thou art the most and I lost sigh as I sink into thy folds.
Mmmmm.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AND Latricia Mazyck

(DOA) THE LAST HEARTBEAT

(DOA) THE LAST HEARTBEAT
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7cg-eauPDd0&feature=youtube_gdata_player

And the world fell to the beat…
Man in the vastness of the all as the angels symphony becomes the     soundtrack…
Urgent, urgent…  patterns play across his subconscious as the thread is parted
He finds himself knowing the next breath might be his last and the choir stands locked on that one note
The next thought might take it black.
A second a millennia as the dimensions parted feed the particulates of his particulars and he knows he stands in the presence of greatness.
All and nothing as he free is given the choice... Choose wisely man.
The man recites and those around are as affected as he as he speaks.
Angel and man and there is nothing but the baritone of his voice as he lays his sound down.
Speaks his piece seized from the ancestors at the spark as he seed waited in that king line.
Father to son to grandson and so on...
Mother to daughter to grandaughter... Carried on hips and fed at breasts...
The angels stand prepared to carry this message to Allah, the man drops the rhythm and it created becomes fortified and formidable...
The earth quake's and mankind shakes.
Closing ears against the thunderous tones and freezing in the startling light...
The beat... The beat...
Tis unique.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

STAR SCREAM

(STAR SCREAM)
THE MUSIC FOR DIS ONE...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8UlW8B2m8M&feature=youtube_gdata_player

We birthed of the union of a star and a planet as one ejaculated its spent ruins into space and the other hurtled through its vastness in a preordained pattern.
We rising as homo sapiens from the dust and taking our first steps…
Locked and rooted to the trees that towered above our infantile heads.
Spirals nappy attesting to our celestial origins
We inhaling of the sweet air as beasts primordial grazed and hunted on the plains below.
The originator walked with us then when we spiritual and free connected interdemensional to angels and demons.
When we locked and rooted as man and woman knew our union was the only means to our survival.
When we knew our places.
Flip side here at the end of our journey where we have lost touch.
With self, with our brother and sister, with Allah.
Locks and roots with no foundation grown on hollow heads and bouncing to a Drake beat
Bearing the weight of 2 Chains and a Lil man named Wayne as the army once strong has turned on itself and dies a genocidal, homicidal suicidal death.
Red flags, blue flags and demons allegiances as they die random in driveby's committed in broad daylight.
You woman in the arms of woman as he man plays the role of undercover brother and spreads the vilest of diseases.
Finds his solace in a man's bed.
Weakens the seed as it prances in low hanging skinny pants.
Learns not the ways of man.
Allah silent watches the proceeding as men spread this mental rot.
Sells his words distorted, twisted and perverted.
Run great churches as the masses sway in upheaval being no longer rooted or locked...
They untethered and drinking the illusion which is administered as grape juice which might as well contain cyanide, some of that Jim Jones Guyana tragedy religiosity.
Somebody got to get a notty heart, somebody got to get rooted and locked.
Somebody?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

THE DESCENT OF MODERN MAN

(THE DESCENT OF MODERN MAN)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-DBmotq-8E&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Man fell to earth escorted by smoke and fire, which in turn were reminiscent of his formation…
Created from the ashes of a sun.
Carbon, oxygen and hydrogen squared…
His impact though not that of a comet was momentous… He carving a path into solid earth.
Man formed civilizations that fell victim to lost memories.
Cities older than those told of in modern schools where westernization seems to have always been the goal.
Crosses and cannons you see… Sticks of spitting fire..
You see?
Man became the image of poverty painted in blackface, jigabooed on modern t.v.
He once king swung from the kind of man’s tree, mankind wearing white sheets and throwing gang signs masonically.
Swing in the breeze monkey.
Free is just another form of slavery if it ain’t really free from closed mentalities.
Man and the kind of man spiraling toward an uncertain destiny you see…
You see?
Smoke and fire burning in populated areas as helicopters hover and overseers patrol urban jungle streets…
Crack of the whip as a bullet exits a gun barrel…
A man falls hot to the ground, he cooling and leaving his mark red as the fire of his formation in a puddle soaking into the sand…
Running down a gutter.
See?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

IMPLOSION

(IMPLOSION)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE…

A man’s heart beats in the throes of a massive implosion and sucks the air from the area surrounding him…
He in heartache falls to bended knee.
Crying in his pain he heaves with head bowed.
He raises his face the heavens as his heart now at the apex of its implosion releases the air and it devastating roars across the tundra of his despair and crushes all that stands in its way.
The lines on his face wet carry the drops of his tears to the corners where they drop bearing much weight.
Splatter into thousands of glittering prisms that catch the sun.
It witness to this display as the horizon rises above its setting crown.
Fire melting into the branches of the trees as darkness is ushered in.
It purple and pink on the clouds.
His heart now destroyed still beating in his hurting chest.
He having never felt this is consumed alone.
Love walking across the ruins of all he thought he knew as it picks up the pieces of his heart and placing them in order, reassembling them.
This vessel to be used again.
The man in sorrow knows not these things.
He only feels the agony as it implodes his aching heart.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(IF I)

(IF I)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzP3vulWkJ4&feature=youtube_gdata_player

If I could I would flutter the blood as it entered your heart…
Cause it to react.
To expand and contract your muscles in anticipation.
The whisper of my words on the membranes of your eardrums becoming a bass that vibrates you instinctively…
Oozes into you sexually and pours from your pores as pheromones released into the atmosphere…
I dizzy continue to manipulate…
To become a part of all that you are…
We rising to climatic heights and sweeping through orgasmic galaxies that reside in the pits of our bellies.
Butterflies bumping against the walls.
I rubbing the tired from your skin and muscles…
Soothing your tired bones as my  voice massages you from the inside and echoes across your loneliness…
So reminiscent of mine.
We connected if only by these words falling from my lips to be consumed by the past.
I metaphysical impart myself to thee.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(CARNIVOROUS)

(CARNIVOROUS)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS FEAST...
http://youtu.be/aw4TGDxEGy4

The last time I was nice it was taken the wrong way...
People thought I was a pushover and came at me all sideways...
That was back in 1976 and I was 11.
That was when I realized that I dragon spit fyah.
That I lion eat meat.
Leave skin and bones and rotting on the ground for the scavengers to eat...
Laughing like hyenas as they fight over the stinking carcass.
That was when I realized that I was meant to be alone even when in the midst of a crowd...
They so consumed in darkness that they might as well be blind...
Led into the slaughter house and fed as veal...
Fattened for the kill.
I walking in and on other dimensional planes where they would never go...
Huddled in the corner, smothered by fear.
They trapped, never to be free.
Even in death.
Ideology carved into headstones standing row after row in so many cemeteries...
Dead sheep abandoned by false shepherds who care only about the living as they pass the collection plate obediently...
Sing when told.
We willllll seeeeeeee...
So much water and the fool chooses to remain thirsty cause of training ritualistically administered...
When I was a young man I realized that the nice get chewed up and devoured.
That's why I aint nothin nice on any day of any week...
I lion roar and cause the establishment to cringe...
They know I dragon manifest spit hot ass fyah.
The last time I was nice they thought I came to play...
They took it the wrong way.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(HYPOTHETICAL)

(HYPOTHETICAL)
THE BEAT AS IT CARRIES THIS DREAM...
http://youtu.be/NMJrAvEaYu4

You on my mind...
Hypothetical.
What you would feel like as I rubbed my hand across your skin...
Talked to you of the world as I see it...
Listened to the music of your voice as it caressed the lobe of my ear and sank to the skin of my eardrums...
Beat so sweet...
So hypothetical.
We in moments of reflection on a beach where I try to show you how I see life...
Where I see the waves reflected in the brown of your eyes...
Taste of thy salt.
We in moments of reflection on a front porch as the world passes by and we again talk of life...
A dream in panoramic 4d cause three can't contain we...
We hypothetical.
Holding hands as the spring breeze washes across the land and brings life from barren winter.
Rips green from the ground and colors the vision as far as we see.
A songbird singing from the trees adds melody to the scene...
Each moment a prelude to the next where we in comfort reside in the knowing of each other...
Man and Woman, Queen and King...
Hypothetically conceived in a mad love dream before being ripped from the heart of a Dislocated African and scribbled for all to see.
Letters forming and breathing...
A sigh as I wax...
Hypothetical.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(CUNNILINGUISTIC)

(CUNNILINGUISTIC)
THE MUSIC AND IT IS DETRIMENTAL TO THE MOOD...
http://youtu.be/nE5rC1WQdjY

On my tongue is where I want you...
A taste of your nipple which really is texture translated and manifested as taste.
Lick it and make it glisten with my tongues questing tip...
Suck it and pull it into my mouth.
Hear you moan... feel the arch of your back.
I want to trace a path down through the valley and kiss you on your tummy.
Play with your belly button.
Feel the ridges of your stretch marks... the little hairs that grace the surface of your skin.
A pause before I stand at your gates... The insides of your thighs that fall away into the valley of your flower...
I see its petals and kiss your flesh gently.
Your thighs quiver in anticipation as I trail my way in... sucking and kneading your skin.
I smell your want as it translates to need and gently touch your lips with my tongue.
Lick them from bottom to top... Open you up and kiss spur tongue...Hum a little on its head.
Suck it into my mouth.
I drink of you as I make you elicit elixer that shine covers my lips and shines like dew in my grey and black beard.
I feel your fingers on the back of my bald head as you pull me in.
On the sides as you struggle to push me away.
I feel the change of your tone as you prepare to erupt.
You lay your head back and scream out your intentions.
"I'm cummmmiiiiiiiinnnnggggggg."
I drink.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

REDUX

(REDUX)
THE FUNK FOR THIS FUNK...
http://youtu.be/hsXvINYEZ5E

Every once in a while in this world of mixed agendas you meet men who are not afraid to be men...
Who celebrate the beauty and diversity of the women of his race and is not ashamed to admit it.
Who is able to realize that she is the carrier of he and she... of we into the future where we a people live to fight another day.
Who sees her form as the most beautiful thing created under Allahs hand in his laboratory.
Who loves the kink of her hair and the rocking of her neck when she is sassy.
The way she rocks stilettos and fits in a tight dress...
Full oh so full ...
He kisses her stretch marks when they make love and wipes away their tears when they are sad...
Makes her smile when she is down.
He appreciates her many manifestations cause he knows it is her way of metamorphosis as she emerges most lovely butterfly.
Every once in a while... Every once in a while.
You meet man unafraid to be man.
Would you modern recognize him?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I AIN'T FORGOT SANTA) OR HOW THE DREAMS OF A CHILD WERE CRUSHED

(I AIN'T FORGOT SANTA) OR HOW THE DREAMS OF A CHILD WERE CRUSHED
No midgets were harmed in the telling of this story I hope.
It is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is probably guilt on the readers part.
THE MUSIC FOR THIS SAD SAD TALE OF CRUSHED HOPE...
http://youtu.be/tnMhfflKCTA

Im'ma tell you about how I figured out Santa Claus was not real.
When I was little boy all I wanted for Christmas was my own midget.
Now I know these days its more appropriate to call em little people or height challenged but when I was a boy they was midgets.
I used to see midgets in the movies, you know.
The Wizard of Oz and Willie Wonka and I wanted me a midget.
Well when I was about 5 my mom took me and my sister to Sears and we saw Santa Claus.
Now mind you this was a white Santa Claus and it took great courage for me to even contemplate sitting on his lap but I was determined to get me a midget and he had two of them.
A boy and a girl, and I had heard he had a whole workshop full of midgets called elves.
Surely this white man with white hair and a white beard could spare me a midget.
He sat me on his lap and asked me what I wanted and I pointed to the female midget.
"That's what I want Santy Claus."
I knew he was stupid when he said "Oh you want a fire truck."
One was behind the midget.
Whoever told me this man knew what all children wanted had lied.
I quickly explained that I wanted one of his midgets... Female preferably and he could deliver it to my door since we had no fireplace.
He laughed all Ho ho ho and informed me that his midgets were his and he needed them at some place called the north pole.
He tried me again.
"How about a training wheel bicycle?"
Nope... Midget.
That's he looked at my mom and said "Ma'am come and get this weird kid."
I was dragged away kicking and protesting my wrongful treatment.
I vowed that day that until Santa brought me my midget and delivered it with a signed and framed apology I was gone make his life the worst sort of hell.
Since then all mall Santa's as well as the ones at any public function and even the bell ringers in front of Walmart have been closely scrutinized.
You tell Santa if you see him.
I wants my damn midget.
She would be pocket sized now.
If I see Santa Im'ma have to fuck him up.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(LOUNGING IN THE STRATOSPHERE OF LOVE) A COLLABORATION FEATURING LeeLee Aint Msbehavin' ...

(LOUNGING IN THE STRATOSPHERE OF LOVE) A COLLABORATION FEATURING LeeLee Aint Msbehavin' ...

THE MUSIC AND DO NOT SLEEP ON IT... ITS HOTTER DAN LOVES FYAH...

http://youtu.be/jXE5r7YCWbA

J

You got me spinning in your galaxy... Stars and constellations where our beginnings on microbiological levels are found. I a particle dwelling in who and what we have become as time drifting passes us by and sweeps us up. We promised to be together at the inception and found in these modern times.

L

And together we will stay As promised long ago You're the sun that brightens my moonlit sky The oxygen that I breathe And the blood that flows through my veins You give me life We're bound together As we weather all storms Love was born and shared You, my KING and I, your Queen Our story told in Egyptian hieroglyphics

J

Our story sung in the twinkling light of billions of stars and played thru stereo headphones. My queen... My sister... My wife. We having lived across the most magnificent of times. Oxygen enriching our lungs and expelled as Co2 which encourages growth in plant life. We as the strings that bind hearts together. We as lovers dancing together under celestial displays that have taken billions of years to become what we see today. I having been transformed by your formation My All... My everything.

L

And you.

You're my everything My world The center of my universe Our love transparent through various hues Of our hearts desires As well as our future offspring The rhythm of our heartbeats Mimic Djembe drums My KING... My brethren... My husband Ruler of land and earth I've loved you in past lifetimes Time traveled to spend eternity with my beloved Hand in hand until death us do part Remnants of our cremation Blended with the earth's rich soil And reborn through spring's harvest Even in the afterlife Our two souls become one As we glide through the galaxy As shooting stars That light up the night.

By JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AND LeeLee Aint Msbehavin' 

(REINCARNATION)

(REINCARNATION)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PART OF OUR SOLAR JOURNEY...
http://youtu.be/LB-XgpTR-Ds

I slices the underbelly and leave the guts of the beast steaming and stinking on the ground.
He drops to his knees and releases his minions who shriek and scream as they push the report button.
Fly around my head buzzing like a hive of angered bees.
My element dragon I scream and they fall to the ground as cinders and the breeze of my feet sends them drifting away.
They raining upwards and floating in the air as I come face to face with the demon...
His restorative powers have come into play and I see him trying to rejuvenate... I dance and slash, parry and thrust as he screams his dissatisfaction.
He will learn today as I warrior become the author of his discomfort.
The proverbial slash on his ass... the thorn in his side.
He looks for a way to author confusion, to take me away.
He spawns more minions in the image of Two Chains and Mily Cyrus and they rage as a stream of bullshit as they pour forth.
My element lion I roar and the subsonics shatter them to shreds, they fall tinkling to the ground becoming the crunching beneath my boots as my ballet transcends to another level and another warrior hears my struggle and awakes.
Comes to stand at my side.
I a general die in battle.
It continues unabated.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SHE TOLD ME SHE WAS HORNY) A COLLAB FEATURING Chinillabean Adedojah

(SHE TOLD ME SHE WAS HORNY) A COLLAB FEATURING Chinillabean Adedojah
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN... THIS IS THE FIRST TIME ANYONE HAS EVER PICKED THE SONG FOR A PIECE ON MY PAGE...
http://youtu.be/nUCtDuSS734

C
Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex Sex, teasing tasting needing to be touched kissed bent over legs raised whispers in ears, grabbed on, teeth and tongue, hands and finger nails leaving designs across the skin, melding into another body, fire and ice but mostly fire and heat and passion,

J
Mmmm mmmm mmmm... And you take me there.. I so filled with the need to fill you up... Satiate you and leave my fingerprints in your flesh. My imprint in the blood that rushes through your veins. Become lava flowing from a volcano hot upon your skin

C
Yes!!!! Holding my arms down intertwining your fingers with mine, the flick of your tongue trailing fire down my side's, me biting your lips and grazing your chest as you enter my depths, whispering in my ear telling me go take it as you go in deeper, me secreting my essence on your shaft

J
Whew... I swept away in the sweat that glistens on your skin... We beating at a frantic pace... In slow motion as we stroke. I as explorer in your caverns and spelunking your caves. Feel me as my fluid floods your walls and splashes in your tunnels... Brings nourishment that manifests as seed.

C
I roll on top to change the position of our making of our very being. I kiss your chest I bite your nipple I fold my hands into yours and go lower to take your manhood in my mouth. Such a tender thing that can bring such pleasure to my insides, that can rub my walls, that can make its home inside of my garden. I love how it rolls through my mouth, I love flicking my tongue and grace the tip sapping up the nectar that has escaped. I love the stiff and soft spots that I can play with my tongue. You moan, and I love that too. You grab my head and it makes me excited. My potion is dripping from my entrance as I please you. You're here to please me and I you. You grab my breasts and play with my nipples. You yank my hair as I continue to show you how much I want you, appreciate you, I lick and suck and suck and lick. I can't stop, I don't wanna stop, I wanna feel you all over me and through me. Hold on because it's gonna be a long night.

BY Chinillabean Adedojah AND JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

THE MIND BENDA

[THE MIND BENDA]
THE MUSIC... LISTEN TO THE SOUND AS YOU READ... IT IS ESSENTIAL...
http://youtu.be/y2_gfcONoY0

I as bullet leave the barrel of the gun spinning...
I designed to elicit massive damage upon impact.
Formed in the forges of the left side of hell where niggers are raised and abandoned.
Made of the hardest of substance.. Only the strong survive... Either by brain or brawn.
I as bullet on straight trajectory speed towards a spent end...
This my story to tell.
I as bullet startle those standing around as sharply I ring out...
Gunclap... Deafening sound as I ram into my target and tear it apart so that it can be rebuilt.
These hearts of these people who seem to have lost the way... Forgotten that this is an ancient war we fight...
They so trained to hate each other that it just seems to seem right to call each other the most vile of names.
Niggas swangin from pecan trees on some jungle bunny shit.
The crowd scatters as the body hits the floor and red begins to spread.
I as gun am placed into the pocket and I as man step forth and take my peoples hand and look to the heavens as power flows from me to the lifeless form.
They open theIR eyes and breathe a gasp of a breath.
I had to kill the niggers...
It was the only way to free my Brothers and Sisters.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

NO QUEEN AS UNTO THEE

(NO QUEEN AS UNTO THEE) TOPIC CHOSEN BY Gena Storm AND Stacy Piggee 
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE. YOU BETTA LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/yZFLA5CTYo8

You vibrate in my receptivity.
Soothe my depravity.
Promised to me as we born awakened in a garden and looked in each others eyes.
Adam smitten by Eve.
My pain as well as my joy  have merged and we have grown from that.
You in me on levels to deep to be seen... My blue blood fading to black.
We as one have endured the most heinous of tragedies and still we stand.
Our bones having become the dust that fertilizes the earth.
Our blood the catalyst for change.
Our skin the icon and we sing as one... As many.
Echoing in the chambers of Allah and filling the halls with the harmony...
Angels swaying in the bars and swept up in the melodies... the treble  and the bass.
You course through my mind and fill me with wonder as I never tire of your form.
Thickly, skinny, tall, short and full.
Makes me wanna lick the chocolate from your skin and savor thy sweet.
My heart racing at the sudden rush of your flavor as you stride by.
Leave me lingering on the trail of your pheromones.
I a mad poet shouting into the wind.
BLACK WOMAN IS QUEEN!!!
Whispers of insanity as I beat down the negative portrayals and confront the stigma.
Stand in my queens corner as king.
We once pawns having becoming royalty.
Vibrating vibrantly.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(KING ME) SHATTER THE CHAINS

(KING ME) SHATTER THE CHAINS
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... BASS CAUSE BASS SHAKES FOUNDATIONS...
http://youtu.be/tX3ArbnXrmM

Listen my brothers...
Let me speak.
I am tired of reading bout another black man done killed another black man.
Over a woman, over the shoes on his feet over the fact that he is from 17th street.
Two black men gone cause prison ain't being alive.
Its dead time.
Tired of things happening and the only voice you hear is the white one telling our story.
On the news and painting the picture of the nigger to the court of popular opinion.
Tired of people spouting fiction as fact as related to who we are and where we come from.
Preachers talkin bout the curse of Ham and calling black a curse.
Tired of the books that try to say that we were happy as slaves, that say black women liked getting raped by white men.
Paying so much attention to material and not the content that we are being swept under the carpet...
Rolled up in a gym mat and deemed a suicide.
Loosing our manhood and becoming batty boyz... Pants dropped and showing off ass... Some sissy shit if you ask me.
Straight booty warriors.
Tired of these fucking chains... shit bout to drive me insane.
Brothers need to pick up some books and learn the truth cause if they don't want you to know that's where it is.
Buried in a book which is ironic cause in some instances books mean life.
Resurrection.
I am telling you this cause I love you bro.
We are Israelites.
We are Kings.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[VIVID MEMORIES OF TASTING YOU]

[VIVID MEMORIES OF TASTING YOU]

THE MUSIC AS WE DO THE DO...
http://youtu.be/TFo3qFWKyDY

I reminisce you tasty on my tongue...
Pound pound.
I reminisce on the savage of the beatdown... all pink and brown.
Pound pound.
Rushing blood and rapid heartbeats...
We fucking frantically...
Pound pound.
You on top and me squeezing titty and ass...
Bounce bounce...
Pound pound.
Me on top with legs pushed back to open flower...
Lick me a taste...
Turn you round and let it hang down...
I plunging in...
Buried in your mound...
Pound pound...
Spanking ass cheeks and yelling loud...
Dick strong, dick proud.
You got me tasting you a little bit...
As I reminisce...
Pound pound.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[A SPIDERS VIEW]

THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...

http://youtu.be/0mqIz5DeJPc

I am as intricate as the silken web of the spider,,,
The theory of pi as I mathematically drop these phrases screaming to a computer or phone screen near you.
Come 4d blazing into your newsfeed...
360 all encompassing degrees as I divulge these circular visions... 
What is to be has and will be...
Fractured realities and fantastic possibilities as I weave...
Fly racing by...
My web transparent yet strong as I contemplate...
Wait.
The law of averages plays out...
Fly ensnared.
Another day finds me reflecting in the drops of dew that line my web...

Digressing into these digressions.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[MAYBE ONE DAY]

[MAYBE ONE DAY]
THE MUSIC... DO NOT MISS THIS...
 http://youtu.be/kiTrToNKR2I

Let me enter your depths and fill your pits...
Become the concrete of your foundations and hold you up...
Let me be the skies that you look at as you find your peace...
A most lovely sunset.
The twinkle of a star in your eye.
The wondering as your mind wanders across the galaxy of time...
We on mental trajectories proceeding into future times...
Stories in libraries that are read and reread.
We the essence and the rhyme... The rhythm's procession tells a story of we falling from the stars complete.
You and I against the gathering storm.
Let me hold you in my arms and talk of these things as my hair grows grey...
Listen to the sound of your voice and dwell in the timbre as you download pon me.
We as symphony.
Rising and falling ... spiraling forth  in crescendo... becoming the beatdown as we breakdown the walls that hold us prisoner...
We as utopia...
Let me in.

jERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[RAGING FLAMES]

[RAGING FLAMES]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS POUND... VERY DIFFERENT MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/hV6BzsgOLAw


Once a bright fire burned in an enslaved peoples belly...

It consumed all and became hunger... They wanted to be free.

They talked about freedom, sang about freedom and died for freedom.

They knew that freedom was spiritual and lived that way...

Some came at it peaceful and some were classified militant as they fought together...

They died in church bombings and on street corners... They died in fields surrounded by white faces... A jury of peers as defined by just-us.

A bright fire as a cross representative of peace unmasked itself and burned savagely as the emblem of hatred.
All the enslaved people wanted was equality or so they thought as integration roared in and swept them off their feet.
It disguised as equality, such a deceptive beast.
So many who sold out as affirmative action picked the ones who would be the vanguard.
They chosen because of their humbleness and docile nature.
The ghettos still raged as the fire smoldering became pain and outrage.
It very apparent that equality was just a dream as judges, lawyers and juries participated in the new slavery.
Racially profiled the people were stopped and violated, thrown into prison and forced labor loosely described as the new slavery.
They worked jobs that had no equals in real society... Dead ends.
95 black inmates to five whites as the war against drugs became the vessel Belly of the Beast.
A ship that sails nowhere yet it carried its passengers straight to the auction block.
They bought and sold as government subsidies and federal grants.
The life of the people became cheap as innocents blood stained sidewalks roped off by yellow tape.
Another policeman exonerated... Another white murderer set free by popular opinions poll in the white mass media.
Another family cried as their sons memory was scandalized.
He who fought for his life becoming the aggressor as painted in black and glaring white... Between the lines.
 The people trained to forget soon did as it all built up to the next time a black person died.
The fires coals became embers which reignited the fire to be free.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[WHAT DID HE SAY?]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
http://youtu.be/GthzcPYSiME


See aint nobody crying about this travesty...
All the niggas is new it seems...
Linked by tragedy to this word it seems.
See aint nobody talkin bout how it ain't but one holiday with the name of an African in a country built on the Africans back.
Yep it seems that the new nigga done forgot that.
Aint nobody raising no hell on Capital hill bout racial profiling and Weed and seed...
Bout black kids dying by guns brought into the ghetto by the white mans hands.
Aint nobody crying bout the fact that they say that they are winning the war against terror when heroin from Afghanistan is circulating in cities Amerikkkkan.
When the difference between starving or eating is decided by the fact "Do I need to move that?"
Aint nobody standing in church pulpits and trying to get the people to see that religion is the key to your enslavement...
Set my people free.
Don't nobody care that little Donnell got twenty or Dap paid with his life...
A statistic is just a mark on a page...
"These niggers died by gunfire... Pour me another drink... Har Harrr."
Seems that aint nobody crying cause they are to concerned with the shoes on their feet and the car that they drive...
Thinking that materialism gives em status...
The vain are gonna bust hell wide open.
A Cadillac dont mean nothin to Allah.
Aint nobody crying cause they are to busy trying to live happy in a system where they are counted out...
Born a slave, die a slave.
Check mark.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[LUCIDITY]

[LUCIDITY]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
http://youtu.be/5NO0f7IXnPA


She falls from a mans mind...
Vivid and real and he writes of her curves...
The lovely of her build...
The lines and wrinkles that make her her.
He describes her as chocolate... As daughter of Eve... As Queen.
She the apex of his being... He of hers.
He sees her in sleep, in his wet dreams and in the dry ones.
He writes of the marks that stretch across her belly which tell of we...
Road maps to who we once were...
He talks of rubbing them, of kissing them.
She he reminisces sweet.
He in longing calls forth her image and breathes artistry into it...
Painting with pen strokes.
Rips her from the page in syntax...
She screaming in the sun as a phoenix born from the ashes of his rabid thoughts.
He washed in her fire becomes carbon, the base of human life.
He sits and contemplates her as she falls from his mind.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[TO THE PAST]

[TO THE PAST... TO THE PRESENT]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
http://youtu.be/OMrAruBQluc

Once in palpitations fast did my heart beat for you...
I was suspended in your air and rooted in your earth...
Mesmerized by your rotations.
Once I would have traversed the heavens to be in your space...
Felled a mighty Baobab tree with my bare hands...
Fought the demons that persecuted you.
Once I was held enthralled in your presence...
Your voice the rain that fell on my parched plains...
Sanctity for my raging brain...
Peace in your skin... Peace in your arms.
Once I knew you...
Or so I thought...
I as lone man reflecting on the days that were ours...
The moments that became the years...
Children born from womb who have become men and women.
A reflection of our reflection...
Once I loved you with every beat of my racing heart.
I still do.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[HOUSE OF THE RISING SON] PART FIVE

[HOUSE OF THE RISING SON] PART FIVE
THE SOUND...
 http://youtu.be/7iCxjXZOYsU

Ishmael walks into the room and sees nothing...
All of a sudden a figure appears.
It is not the way that the figure appears that startles Ishmael but the matter.
The man seems to materialize from the wall.
From where he comes there is no door.
As the man walks towards Ismael he seems to almost float, he is so graceful.
He wears a black shirt and black slacks and his hair is in dreadlocks that are thick as a mans wrist.
He walks up to Ishmael and extends his hand, as Ishmael takes it there is a controlled transfer of information and Ishmael sees the man standing in various places and rooms such as this one with various African descendants.
The man withdraws his hand and says "I am Melchizedek, the high priest.
Ishmael knows that he speaks truth.
The man looks at him and in his eyes there is knowledge, wisdom and pain.
He looks to be about 50, but there is youth in him as well.
Ishmael is astounded... this man looks pretty well for someone who spoke to Abraham and again to the one that the Christians call Jesus.
Melchizedek looks at the young man and says "Show me the things you can do."
It is not a question.
Ishmael knows that there are objects around the room, in the shadows and he lifts them with his mind and brings them to the center of the room.
They are balls, basketballs to be precise and Ishmael even in the middle of this test is amused by the irony and he makes the balls bounce a few moments before he stops.
He leaves the balls suspended in the air as he turns to Melchizedek and says "What else would you like to see?"
Melchizedek smiles as he thinks, This one is witty.
Show me everything.
Ishmael says "There are things that I cannot show you in this room."
He takes Melchizedek's hand and suddenly they stand on a plain where a herd of wildebeest graze, this is no transfer, they have actually transported and Melchizedek looks at Ishmael as he takes off running.
He runs towards the lions that lounge at the edge of the herd and suddenly everything is motion as all the animals, the lions and the wildebeest start to run.
For a second Ishmael is lost to Melchizedek's sight in the dust, the melee.
He reappears and he rides a wildebeest, the lions run at the side of the wildebeest before it turns and comes Melchizedek's way.
All the animals follow suit and just as it seems they are about to run him over they stop.
The wildebeest kneels as Ismael steps down and all the animals sit as if they are waiting for him to speak.
He walks up to Melchizedek and says "Is this enough?"
Melchizedek looks at him and says "You are the spark."
Ishmael is confused.
"What is spark?"
"Spark is what man came from, it is something that happened during creation.
Time has no meaning for spark, I myself am spark yet my abilities are nothing compared to yours.
I have lived for thousands of years yet I can do only one of the things that you just did.
You did them all as effortlessly as waking.
Spark is passed along and no one knows when it will manifest yet when it does there is sure to be great change.
Look at the stories that you know from the bible and the scrolls, from the various cultures. The stories of Moses and of Noah.
The story of David and Solomon, David was the only man who ever passed the spark for two more generations.
You my son are spark and as such you will always be under attack from those who seek to enslave man.
You will be tested time and time again.
Pray and stay strong my son for your guide shall come soon, what he does may seem strange to you but you must not question what he does.
Be blessed my son.
Melchizedek takes something from his pocket and he opens it and pours some in his hand and rubs some in Ishmael's hair.
Be blessed for the battle comes.

TO BE CONTINUED

Genesis 14:18-20 

And Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. (He was priest of God Most High.) And he blessed him and said, “Blessed be Abram by God Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth; and blessed be God Most High, who has delivered your enemies into your hand!” And Abram gave him a tenth of everything.

Hebrews 7:1-28 

F

For this Melchizedek, king of Salem, priest of the Most High God, met Abraham returning from the slaughter of the kings and blessed him, and to him Abraham apportioned a tenth part of everything. He is first, by translation of his name, king of righteousness, and then he is also king of Salem, that is, king of peace. He is without father or mother or genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but resembling the Son of God he continues a priest forever. See how great this man was to whom Abraham the patriarch gave a tenth of the spoils! And those descendants of Levi who receive the priestly office have a commandment in the law to take tithes from the people, that is, from their brothers, though these also are descended from Abraham. ...

Note: remember that this was written by Paul so the reference to Jesus as the son of god was written by him. It is not what Jesus or Allah said.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

I remember the soft touch of a woman yet it seems so foreign to me...

[THE BEAT]
THE BEAT FOR THIS BEAT... BETTA LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/6b8bJ1Y1NqI

As these rhythms pound off in the dimensions of my mind and fill the spaces in between, where the livid thoughts reside and manifest...
Dancing and cavorting in syncopated chaos around the village fire.
As the shadows play off the walls and grow larger and larger taking on lives of their own.
The beast in the darkness, light reflecting off his refractory lenses...
He so hungry.
The tribe dances as the sounds echo into the neurons and synapses...
The doctor enters and starts to step... The dust seems to become apart of who he is...
Lion and man.
Give I back I witchdoctor.
He merging with the stars and becoming solar.
We children of the sun...
The village enchanted falls in line and the power is felt universally as aliens in other systems feel the vibe...
Come alive...
Come alive.
We the chosen having been demonized and vilified in these sordid times.
Living on planes where all we are is food for the beast who waits for the fire to die...
Pacing at the edge of light.
In hindsight...
These rhythms pound in my head.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY