(A MID SUMMERS FLIGHT OF FANCY)
THE SOUND IN SURROUND...
https://youtu.be/TUYzJapkNIA

Thou lounging chocolate in a warriors weary mind.
On a road waylaid have I found thee thus lain horizontally.
Thine sexuality permeating into the darkness of mine tortured individuality.
I man emerging from the thermonuclear winter of mine personality.
Ashes floating in the dawning sun.
To thee these strokes of these fingertips would I dedicate... They waiting for someone future to read.
Wayward the travel's we have seen.
The rise and fall of great empires.
The death of dreams and the birth of hope.
Thou whom I would call queen.
So scared of one who would grant thy serenity... One who would hold thy as gently as silken lace.
A beautiful sigh as breath expelled becomes song.
Rewind.
Song becomes expelled breath.
Catch that... A kiss from poets hand, a blow of the warriors sword.

Gently the leaves wave
Summer finds man all alone
Leaves spiral to ground.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THIS RED EMOTION} inspired by a one word submission by Messy

THE SOUND OF THIS EMOTION... LUST.

https://youtu.be/RxabLA7UQ9k

Such a potent word this word, lust.
Looking at you and you pull at my... Damn.
The things... Oh the things I have done and will do to quell this burning emotion.
Fire in mine loins and rushing of mine blood.
Panty lines beneath your shorts. Ass bouncing in skirts.
I so silently watching you walk by.
A whiff of your soap washed skin sends a man into a full tailspin.
Yet lust is all I got cause you don't even notice me, so many wolves. I lion watch them as you make the same mistake time and time again.
Pretty leaves sometimes contain the most powerful poison.
I lusting record these things subconsciously.
His hands on your skin.
You walk by, a most fragrantly delicate thing.
Lust burning holes in my soul.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(HOW YOU LIKE IT BABY? )
THE SOUND AS I PONDER THINE WAYS...
https://youtu.be/mYve9QnFkf8

She has me wondering... Mmmm.
Wonder what her thing is?
Wonder what makes her pussy hum?
Is it cunninlingus?
The softly fluttering tongue.
Just the tip on her clit.
Ah the aroma.
Is it rough?
I like that, throw her down and push them legs back.
Make that man stand tall in that boat as I look down.
Pussy wrapped round big dick.
Is it slaps?
Spankings that make ass cheeks bounce.
Jiggle wiggle.
Excited cries that fill the corners of the room.
Perhaps she will let me tie her up.
Drive her insane cause she can't push me away.
Take her to the very door of faint.
For me?
A gift!
Oh really, you shouldn't have.
What makes this piece of divinity click?
Is it leather or lace?
Her vice, her virtue.
I like hairy pussy.
A fucking hairy pussy fucking freak.
Damn, I wish I knew.
What's your fetish?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{HOUSE NIGGA}

{HOUSE NIGGA}
THE SOUND AS GET OUTTA HIS HOUSE NIGGA LYRICS IS DROPPED...
https://youtu.be/hETSWacZZ1w


If a white man slapped yo mama you would probably make an excuse for him... You in your brand new Armani suit, your Dior dress.
If he killed you neighbors child in cold blood you would say "Its probably his fault. He should'na had them Twinkies in his hand."
You just a low life excuse, done sold out for some bands, a car and some shoes.
Let me explain how pussy and economics is the same.
Back in the day a white man somewhere said if I cover my woman up she becomes more valuable cause what a man can't see he wants.
He covered a natural thing in the 100 degree heat.
Rape which had been virtually non-existent suddenly became a more prevalent thing.
Pussy became a bargaining tool.
Marry my daughter and I'll take care of you, work my land and manage my crew.
Pussy became a valuable thing, its hold on man immeasurable.
Love of pussy led to war.
Man in his supposedly supreme way would not admit that pussy had such a hold and he placed value on other things that by cosmic right are free.
Land, clothes and food.
Knowledge and inclusion which at first were universal were denied to many by birthright, caste systems became democracies and slaves built great cities.
They rising on stolen land where once whole nations had bleed conquered blood into the ground.
All because of a covetous system created when man put clothes on something that in the beginning even the children knew about.
Seems back then hue-mans were closer to pure.
What were we talking about though?
Oh yeah, pussy and economics.
Now let say that the pimp is the ruling overlords... The so called elite.
He has his bitches... The government, the police.
If things go right you go in and get your pussy from his bitches, pussy being goods.
But if things don't go right... If you don't pay for the pussy the pimp has a system in place that will break you down.
Fuck around and the pimp will be selling you too... Bent over and spread too, that's how pimps do.
Work from the background and keep the pussy selling.
Ain't even got to be seen.
Sad part is that the churches, the schools and the penitentaries are totally ran by the pimps too... He gets you hooked on the pussy young.
Sells you false dreams bout owning some pussy.
Now we know that ain't true cause don't no motherfucker own no pussy... Sometimes not even the woman that carries it.
Pussy just works like that.
Economics do too.
So sad that you would sell your own for some scrip.
Bout 50 pieces of the overlords silver.
Judas in a modern time.
Our people suffer greatly because of your kind.
Suit and tie, athletic uniform, blue police and green sheriff.
Done sold us straight the fuck out.
How does it feel in his house, nigga.
Hunh?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

DIRTY TALK

{DIRTY TALK}

THE SOUND AS THE TALK IS DROPPED...

https://youtu.be/Hruq8OJMzWM

Suddenly you cross my mind, such a fragrant thought...
I would eat you up, so delectable the image.
My face between your thighs, the tip of my tongue... You pushing my head back.
Me holding the backs of your legs so that you can't get away.
Such tasty images.
I standing hard would stand and place it in your face... How could something so heavy stand horizontal?
A rhetorical question that would go unanswered, your lips your tongue, I talking to you as you suck and look up at me.
That fantastic shit that fascinates me.
Got me fucked up, these thoughts of you in my mind.
The heavy beat, I suspended would push you back, grab your ankles and lay you spread.
I suspended would enter you with my head.
Savoir your viscosity and plunge into your fluidity.
I mean hard would ride.
Talk to you... Speak to your insides.
How does that feel?
Damn that shit feels good.
Always been mine.
Learn forward and sniff of your hair.
My savage beast and I would try to touch the back of your womb.
Tingle your diaphragm.
These thoughts, these all natural thoughts of you and I yes I.
Smell... You.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BREATHE)
THE SOUND...

So like a breath of fresh air...
Man standing in a light gentle breeze.
Panorama before him spread.
Leaves rustling, welcoming the coming.
So like completion, soft skin and voice.
Man taken there, glimpses of a soul bared.
Could I be the soothing or would I be the tumultuous storm?
Man wonders, while looking at thy form, it so tempting.
What roads have thy wandered to come to this turn?
Man wonders contemplative.
Thy penetrating his senses and pervading his structure.
So like the cool after a summer rain.
Night but a dusk away.
It would find us entwined if things were to go that way.
A conversation, perhaps some lovemaking.
You feline in your grace, your purrs divine falling onto the drums of man's ears.
He stroking you in your most intimate of places.
Oh the titillation, the fibrilation.
Ahhhh.
So like a cloud, the feel of drizzling rain.
Such an exhilarating feeling as man stretches his arms.
Inhale...
Exhale.
Ahhhh.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SOLDIERS... HA! ) MOTHERFUCKERS, SOLDIERS, NIGGAS AND THE AWFUL TRUTH...
THE SOUND AS WE GET DIRTY...
https://youtu.be/N62No1rC-I0

Motherfuckers talkin bout they soldiers...
Motherfuckers talkin bout they run the hood.
All of em ignorant dan a son of a bitch.
Motherfuckers killing other motherfuckers that call themselves Crips, Bloods and G.D.s all of em a bunch of indoctrinated punk bitches getting punked by the system.
Bent over and fucked.
Prison bitches even on the outside of them walls cause prisons begin in motherfucking minds.
Designed and conceptualized and put in practical use.
Niggas, bitches, hoes, and hoods.
Motherfuckers owning that ignorance.
Can't even band together to face the real enemy cause they love to hate on each other.
That's what pit bulls is trained to do.
Chew at each other's necks while their owners chew on the steak of their labors.
Dinners served on silver plates, glasses trimmed with gold.
Another shot please?
Motherfuckers talking bout they soldiers when they are the disease...
Spreading like AIDS.
Pants sagging to advertise the booty cause that's what pimped out ass hoes do.
Sell ass and suck dick... This shit is literal and figurative, raw and motherfucking gritty.
Niggas spilling each other's blood, killing probable prophets and hypothetical saviors.
Lined up in the cross hairs, holes in feet and hands.
Niggas wearing the mark of the beast and killing in the beasts name.
He wearing the cloak of the judge and the badge of the police.
He the orchestrator of niggas rise and niggas demise.
Motherfuckers swearing they soldiers when they ain't nothing but slaves.
Talkin bout they rising when all they doing is digging graves.
Could been a nation when all they got is cliques, gangs and drug induced hallucinations.
Molly, crack and pharmaceutical too.
Couldn't last a week in a real war zone cause they depend on grocery stores for food and drink water from bottles.
Motherfuckers talkin bout they soldiers, time for motherfuckers to show and prove.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{ I KNOW THE GLASS CANT BE THIS DIRTY? }
THE SOUND. PLEASE LISTEN CAUSE THE MUSIC GOES WITH THE TALE...
https://youtu.be/UITCDEm2D40


This shit ain't real... Its as fake as the value we place on a pair of shoes or a place to live.
Fake as the deed that you hold to your land cause if a motherfucker took it one time he can take it again.
In the morning you look up and see the sun... That shit is real.
The flower... The buzzing bee, but you miss it cause you paying attention to going to work to wear some fake ass hair and pay for cable so you can watch another motherfuckers reality on T.V.
So blind to the reality cause if you weren't working for them you could have chopped down a forest and made your own cities by now.
You could have anything you want but you have been trained to be a slave.
Physically and spiritually and the children grow weaker by the day.
The lakes, the animals and the trees are poisoned and the rain is acidic.
Scared to separate cause all you want is another suck off the proverbial titty... all you are is a symbiant life form in the grand cosmic scheme.
Stolen knowledge, stolen bodies, stolen minds... The deaf, dumb and docile and the angel cries could drown out the sound of a trillion bat wings in the dusky night.
So many dead and gone the way wrong.
Warriors ready to dance at all costs fighting each other as Crip and Blood lost in confusion and arranged in disarray.
So many calling themselves bitch and hoe... So many men wearing female dress and absorbing female stress.
The African man but a shattered remnant scared to attack the real enemy... Financially and physically he has become as unto spiders dinner.
Trapped in the snare.
Injected and sucked out.
A dry hull falling to the floor.
So fucked up cause as I see...
This shit just cant be fucking real.
Its got to be a dream cause there is no way its real.
Is there?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

I see you and my primality presses into my peneality... I grow heavy and hard and I would fall into your valley... Victim of your causality.
Rivers flowing, flowers growing, skin glowing.
To orgasmic going, sound receding and slowing, psyche blowing.
Some of that humdangerlanger, thick dick hangeranger,

(OH)

(OH)

THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... PLEASE LISTEN...

https://youtu.be/rJ12nhq7n74

You drop into my mind as dark as the moment before realization, in the chambers of Allah.
Forged from the remnants of a suns fire and I, Oh...
You make me tremble to the very roots of my tree... Got me quaking and I um, Oh.
I feel you baby, and I need you so, and I just don't wanna let go.
A moment on this mortal thread with thee and I, Oh...Just wanna explode .
Release all this energy into the cosmos... Blow perceived notions to the edges of heavenly abode.
We, you and me born of the big bang and the resulting cataclysms as Suns became stars, as planets were born of them going supernova.
You make me wanna touch you on your, in your and I, Oh.
Oh I wanna merge into the depths of your Dna and mingle with you psychologically.
I a spark in your synapses, a wet spot in your panties and I, Oh.
I told you I feel you so so long ago...
I think it might have been on a plain in Africa or a playground in Georgia, I born of slaves and free men.
Mixed progeny and here we are homogenized in these times and I, Oh.
Oh I wanna reach out and touch you trembling from the questing of my fingers the manipulations of my tongue.
Pink turning to dark where I would plant seed, watch it dribble between ass cheeks and I, Oh.
I told you so.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 

(DECISIONS AND INNERVISIONS)
THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS MUSIC... PLEASE LISTEN...
https://youtu.be/LRfN2R3PpHs

What am I if not blood sweat and tears... I man built this country, raised it pon mine back.
I man stood by and watched as my woman bore the progeny of wicked men.
He who would enslave his own seed.
I man cried in the room darkened by night and prayed that I would be free.
That my children might smell the fresh air, breathe of being truly unburdened by the melanin in their skin.
I man hung from trees as my neck attached and tears ran down my cheeks... as I pissed myself.
Salt water so reminiscent of the seas we crossed in the belly of the beast.
Whips, chains and maggots as my soul festered.
I man held on to small remembrances of times past till placed in smalls cages departed from reality.
Some became shuffling versions.
My woman having lost all respect as they took her again and again in the night.
They dressed as the ghosts we had been trained to fear.
Unholy war and the church it did condone these things.
I man scarred from the beatings of life as they called me a worthless nigger and a threat when really I was neither.
I man just a shadow of my former self as the torture continued unabated.
Overseer becoming Officer, Sherif becoming Sheriff and so many of us having sold out.
Wearing the badge with pride and honor as black men caught bullets in their bodies and fell bleeding on the streets.
Angel of death coming to claim their soul, bodies lowered into stolen ground.
I man wondering what I can do to wake just a few...
Start a revolution, spark a new mindset.
They so lost in Hollywood and New York dreams as rappers tear down the last walls of sanity, sell Molly dreams, Crack illusions all while spinning trap music in heavy rotation.
Chalk lines on concrete as I man fall prostrate and pray for the eventual death of my enemy, whoever he may be.
I man done wore to many ass whippings to be afraid.
All this blood, so much sweat and so many tears ago I man decided so.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(ONCE IN A LIFETIME SIMILAR TO THIS ONE) INSPIRED BY THIS PHOTO OF JEN WILLIAMS...
THE SOUND...

Once we were kids in a garden, we laughed we played.
The animals and we, cohabitation complete.
Once we walked next to God.
They say there was no rain.
We infinite.
We born of the cosmos God and the universe Goddess.
It was inevitable that we would challenge our makings and grow.
They would call this growth modern, we in these times while forgetting that once even the wheel was new.
Mans love so deep that man feeling it would bite of forbidden fruit.
Accept death and all the consequences of knowing.
All a man's soul and he would slay lions to prove his prowess... his cunning.
He indebted to you on mitochondrial levels.
You embedded in his very cellular.
You standing beside him as his nations fell and rose.
As pyramids were built of and on Terra firma.
As skyscrapers rose and towered above.
Monuments to him wanting to touch the sky.
Symbols of his manhood.
Monkey bars and swings in the middle of metropolis.
Children's laughter ringing off concrete. Bullets and handguns.
Death and destruction interspersed with the still miraculous birth.
Who are we to be, what are we?
Savage beast or sane man?
Boy or girl? Woman or man?
So much confusion in the garden where once even you and I were innocent kids.

A JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY