THESE ARE THE WRITES OF A TRAVELER
(PLAY WITH IT)
THE XXX RATED SOUND... DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT LISTEN TO THIS AT WORK OR AROUND FAMILY...
https://youtu.be/qngcy36Z6Z4
Mmmmm... I love to look.
Could you just rub it for me?
Let me see you play with it for the beast.
Got me all hard and shit.
Do you want to see?
You are such a fine and delectable delicacy.
Rub that punani for me as I rub my meat for you.
Sssss... Oh my goodness!
Spank it.
Make that clit stand up for me..
So fucking fine.
Spread those legs and show me those lips.
Sssss.... Tell me when you feel your cum.
Got me bout to hurt myself.
Nipples all hard, booty so phat.
Don't stop baby, don't stop.
I need to see, be my little freak.
That punani so phat.
I feel my cum, I feel it in my balls.
I love it when you moan like that.
When you cross your eyes and bite your lips.
Make me want to just.
Oh fuck! Look at you tremble.
You gone make me.
Oh fuck.
I love it when you rub me in your skin.
Shit.
Oh shit.
Damn that was good as fuck.
Come here baby kiss me.
I love to see you do that shit.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(PUMPUM BLUES)
THE SOUND OF THE NEED...
IF YOU AINT NEVER LISTENED TO THE BEAT YOU AINT NEVER REALLY READ THE POETRY....
https://youtu.be/T1pOT-MeXvs
Let me dip my stick into your chocolate... Let me use your melanin to sweeten the days of my existence.
The living of my life.
Woman I need you.
Oh so bad.
I see you and I wanna lay hands on you.
Speak to you, hold you, part your thighs and breathe the scent of thee.
Blow soft pon thee.
Ahhhhh...
The essence.
The writhing ecstasy and I the beast.
All in the vapors.
Let me try to reach into your physicality and touch your eventuality.
Carress the perimeters of your heart and linger in your orgasmic soul.
Woman I need you in the jungles of my dispair where I would look upon you and find strength.
Rise from your sweaty missionary form.
I Born a new man.
Flesh of thine flesh... Soul of thine soul.
So mixed up in the contextual you.
Let me savor each and every swish and sway of your hips.
Every bounce of your booty cheeks.
I a quite entranced beast.
Woman I'm telling you.
I need you.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(WARRIORS KNOW FEAR... WARRIORS WELCOME DEATH) A TOPIC CHOSEN BY STARLET WILLIAMS
THE SOUND OF THE TURMOIL OF KNOWING THESE THINGS...
https://youtu.be/2SOqPXaQZiI
Once afraid of the dark a warrior opened his eyes, light pouring from his irises lighting the way.
Warrior emerging from cave swore that he would conquer his fear.
It his companion on his left side.
No time for that anymore.
The people they needing him so.
He having been trained in so many arts, physical, mystical and esoteric.
So much power had his fear held in check.
Warrior spoke and his verbality moved masses and cause trembling in high places.
Principalities feeling the potential sent agents to destroy the warrior and each time he emerged unscathed.
He warrior feeling fear but standing tall quoted the words written on the scrolls of his notty 💓
It forged from the purest of titanium in the cave projects.
The broken glass and gunshots of the ghetto.
Death always standing at his right side.
Lying on the sidewalk as a friend fallen.
As his child buried in a grave.
Warrior walking through these things.
The hell jail and the threat of prison.
Mental and physical.
His tears falling into the depths of his soul.
Evaporating and becoming the fuel burned as he sped along.
His mission pumping his blood and fueling his 🔥.
No time for fear.
No time for false love.
Such a hard and harsh reality.
Warrior picked up his sword the pen.
Warrior loading his gun mental.
Warrior strapping his boots knowledge.
Warrior prepared and prepped for war.
Fear on his left side.
Death on his right.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(OF STRETCH MARKS THUNDER AND LIGHTNING) GENESIS AND REVELATIONS
Inspired by Magueda Jackson
THE SOUND OF REBIRTH...
https://youtu.be/pUZeSYsU0Uk
In the beginning Allah created he and she.
They so powerful... The power of Allah in their mind... The power of Allah in their souls.
Yet they found themselves questioning the power of Allah, they questioned his wisdom.
He and she roaming free in a garden of plenty.
Power over plants and beasts, names falling from their tongues as they named these things.
He and she.
They walked with Allah as the sun was the day and the moon and stars lit the night.
They so blessed with knowledge.
Yet it was not enough, they needing more when all was right at their fingertips.
Eventually they took these questions to Allah.
We want what you have Allah, the whole of your power, the all of your knowledge.
They not knowing what they asked.
Allah omnipotent and infinite in his wisdom looked at them, these beings birthed in his chambers from carbon and water.
So fragile were they.
They not knowing what they asked.
Allah loving them gave them what they wanted.
He set them free.
They in their knowledge built great pyramids and monuments dedicated to their beginnings.
Their birth and the location of whence they came.
He and she.
He and she carrying maps in the whorls and spirals of his hair.
She carrying maps that appeared upon the birth of their children.
Etched into the melanin of her skin.
Lightning and thunder drawn on her body.
Once so much power.
Now they were hue-man.
One day in a far distant future they would translate them.
Allah would be there waiting patiently.
He and she returned to their glory.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(THE INEVITABILITY OF THE FLOW) ONE MORE CUP OF COFFEE
THE SOUND AS THIS TALE IS TOLD...
https://youtu.be/-Hv5T7LflU8
The birds singing in the trees bore witness to the dawn yet the sky remained dark.
The Lonesome Stranger breathed deep and smelled the imminent birth of a new day.
He in tune with the earth, the breeze, the praying trees.
Such a curse, this cognizance.
Such a blessing to be this cursed.
Allah in the everything, the Lonesome Stranger realizing these things.
The deepest blue of a dawning day.
Shadows of clouds drifting by in the slowly brightening sky.
Promises of life and the inevitability of imminent death drifting by.
Love a promise that he had found and lost.
Sometimes he wished he knew its embrace again but he and love had such a sordid past, it seeming to not be a thing he should know.
No fault of his, he such a hard entity to overstand.
He Lonesome Stranger had hardened his heart in the days of his childhood.
In the days of his youth as so many tried to play him with love, used it to further their own means.
The stringent tones of a stringed instrument playing in the vastness of his pineals.
A sad violin song, the mellow tones of a piano, the wail of a mother on her knees.
She crying over a dead son, a wayward daughter, a husband or boyfriend going away to jail.
The Lonesome Stranger having witnessed all these things.
Wishing that love might find him, take him into it's soft hold, that death might take him away from these confused beings.
So much beauty and they would rather bicker and fight, they would rather focus on material things that really had no value.
Houses made of plentiful wood, shoes made of plentiful leather.
Diamonds made of coal... Silver, Platinum and gold.
The Lonesome Stranger seeing the futility of all these things as men and women waged war over such inconsequential and petty things.
Space travel but a thought away, happiness but a bit of silence away, if only these beings really overstood their divinity.
Their prime directive.
They in their ignorance following religions designed to keep them rooted in place, holding them enthralled.
Controlled by other men who held truth at bay, standing at the right side of pulpits whispering lies.
Ancient societies ruling in their very modern midst. Jin and authors of confusion.
Towers of Babel, Sodom and Gomorrah, Revelations and revolutions, scientific institutions, whip chains and multiple contusions.
Doctors that plagued them with chemical remedies and separated them from their spiritual selves.
Natural cures outlawed and ignored.
Job had eyelids of the morning, he breathed the embers of fire.
Cough, cough.
The Lonesome Stranger in the midst of these beings cried in the depths of his soul, he knowing the truth knew that these things were too much for these beings to bear.
His silence consuming him and threatening to tear him apart.
Heaven but a thought away.
The cicadas singing in the trees bore witness to the dusk of night.
The Lonesome Stranger born to die.
The Lonesome Stranger existing in the flow... The flow has no beginning nor no end.
He the Stranger is Lonesome no more.
He has become the flow.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(I WANNA WET YOU UP)
THE SOUND OF OUR LUST...
https://youtu.be/4g-YA3G36WI
Everytime I see you I feel like I'm on fire.
Pretty brown eyes and creamy skin.
I want to fuck you right now.
Leave you glistening in sweat and juicy cream.
I would love to lay you down and lick the insides of your thighs, kiss your pussy lips and suck on your clit.
I need that shit.
I wanna taste your beginnings.
Make you gushy and wet.
Make your eyes grow wide as your orgasm surges through your body.
Damn I need that shit.
I need to push your legs back to your head and make your pussy stand out.
Spank it with my dick head and feel the splatter of your wet.
💦💦💦💦
I need to feel that.
Listen to you moan, whimper and cry as I slide my dick in and suck on your nipples.
Push it as deep as it can go and suck on your tongue.
Fuck you till you grow hoarse.
Turn you over and fuck you from the back as you suck on my finger and press your ass cheeks against my stomach.
Juice dripping down so wet wet . 💦💦💦💦
Let you ride this dick and flood my nuts with your cream.
I am so absorbed in this lust.
You got me so fucked up, I wanna fuck that pussy, stand up and lick it and beat that pussy again.
Make you wet and slick.
Leave you covered in my cum as you rub it into your skin.
All I see when I look at you is wet.
You make me wanna skeet.
💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(MEMORIES)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/Q88VSlzeAZQ
You remind me of sunshine, the bright rays of dawn.
Birds singing in and chirping in the boughs of trees, fish swimming in shimmering water.
As always I allude to the flower, petals encasing so many parts, known, yet still a mystery.
So much potential, for flower bears more flowers.
You remind me of rain, so soft, the cleansing of skin and soul.
A moment in your showers as they wash over my being.
Waves of euphoria taking me to other planes.
Wet and beautiful eyes.
You remind me that I got a duty to do, no matter how perceived.
Somebody got to be the bearer.
Everytime I look pon thy form I am reminded of these simply complex things.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(WHAT NOW???)
THE SOUNDTRACK... So integral to the telling of a story....
https://youtu.be/lRD8Xw9zyxM
These times they are a trying.
Racism perpetuated yet ignored.
The children suffering greatly as the greedy suck the poor.
Dirty water in the inner cities as armed gangs patrol the streets.
Codes of blue, green and brown.
Get down... Police!
Another dead body lying on the ground.
Armed gangs leave the house... Gonna fuck up a nigga tonight!
Don't matter which side they are against us.
Preachers, teachers and the back of the bus.
These times and a man could spout all day and night of the injustice... Of the just-us.
Two tears in a bucket and motherfuck it... All this shit a make a man blow the fuck up.
Spit motherfucking fire from his tongue, sever the ties that bind with it's sharpened sides, slice it's jugular with well directed adverbs and verbs... Metaphorically and literally rip the foundations from the systems sandy ground.
Fall to his knees from the exertion.
These times...
These times...
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
