(FSU POLICE AND HARASSMENT)

Today I'm going to write about police harassment. I don't mean as a whole only but how it's affecting my life.
I am currently considering hiring a lawyer to represent me as well as filing suits in state and federal court.
Last month while riding my bike through FSU campus at night I was stopped and issued a trespassing warning because as the officers put it "someone's been stealing bikes."
From this I inferred that the thief must be a black man or that they were suspecting all black men.
Mind you I have a business which places me on campus a lot. I have done business on campus since 1977 when I was12 years old and have never had an incident with the FSU police, criminal or otherwise.
The 5 officers who stopped me played good cop bad cop and fired questions at me. I in my frustration answered them but I didn't answer them to the satisfaction of a couple of officers.
They then checked my record (which I must admit is long. The latest incident was in 2009 or 10 and was a bad check. Not fraud or uttering, it was a mistake between my bank and I
I now have begun to notice a certain officer who follows me even off FSUs property. He even harassed me in front of witnesses who are willing to testify in court. A few of them being FSU boosters. White and black.
He cited facts that are in fact blatant lies and used charges that I was exonerated on. This in an attempt to degrade my character.
He was hostile and very loud and aggressive.
If he had his body camera on you can view the footage.
In short I feel like the brother thrown out of the Doubletree this week.
It's time the police and society are not allowed to slander, attack and harass us. This is JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY saying help me take a stand against police brutality.

#FSUPD
#FSU
#Policebrutality
#doubletree

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FIRSTBORN REFLECTIONS OF THE PROTOTYPICAL)

She fell from the sky in super slow motion.
Her every move defined, a tad bit refined, so delicate her descent.
I man rush to the place where she makes contact.
Slightly taken aback by her form I gasp.
I hear the voice of the Universal All as it speaks. It's voice that of man yet something else.
She opens her eyes and I,  yeah I am lost.
I see the cosmos spinning in the depths.
Darkness, nay light.
I speak and she has the other tones in the Universal's.
My heart rejoices for there is none as unto she.
I so lonely in such a magnificent place.
She moves and I notice her intricacies.
She reflects the doe, the flower, the water.
She is splendiferous.
My, my.
I take her hand.
Come let me show you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(IS SOMEONE HUNTING IN TALLAHASSEE?) IS TALLAHASSEE HARBORING A SERIAL KILLER?

I'm going to have to say something that I think the police, the sheriff and the media has been hesitant to say in Tallahassee.
Having long term memory can be such a curse.
I think that there is a serial killer operating in Tallahassee.
I mentioned this to my sister and mom over two years ago and offered up the proof. Eventually they listened and when I said it at the Christmas dinner they had to agree. The facts are to blaring not to miss.
Alexandria Reshard is probably his latest victim, ironically I have known her mother since we were teens. I do not know the names of all the victims but I remember the timeline, my sister who went missing in 1994 also fits into the timeline.
From here say I also know that most of the women's bodies found bear similarities which cry out a pattern. I am going to name the women whose bodies were found that I remember, there are more and almost all of them were found in the winter months which also suggests a pattern.
These names are in reverse and lead back to the first woman found in the late 80s or early 90s.
Alexandria Reshard.
The tall white woman nicknamed Frankenstein.
Cookie.
Wanda Mott.
The first woman found was found on the side of Ferrell's plaza on Old Banbridge Rd in Frenchtown a long time ago. Her head was severed.
There are others but I can't remember them all. The thing that these women have in common is that they were either prostitutes or spent a lot of time in the streets.
When I first proposed doing this article I was told that I would become a target, they meant from the killer and the police but I have no fear of either, I walk with the universal truth.
This is JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY and this is my theory.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(GOSSAMER THREADS)

Somewhere in a tortured psyche a woman's touch exists... A ghost of its former self.
It once held so much life... A man silent sit reminiscing it's demise.
The day it died... He wishing it could come back alive.
To the people passing by he is merely a man sitting on alone on a park bench.
His ghosts surrounding him are his alone... His face is set in solid stone.
His tears internalized flood the canaverous caves of his soul... He drowning in his loneliness... He trapped in the juxtaposition.
Surrounded he remains alone... The birds sing their song.
Somewhere he is in love... Another dimension perhaps. Another planet... Another reality where her touch greets him when he returns home.
In these thoughts he finds solace for all he has here are memories... Fleeting glimpses into his past where her touch was sometimes so soft... Sometimes so hard as they clung to each other in coitus...
All he has left are these memories.
Her touch has become a ghost.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

You give me goosebumps... Not of fear but anticipation.
I'll bet you get wetter... Your petals glistening as you spread for me.
My own little freak show... You such dainty fruit.
A moment as I savor thine image... A ravaged mind coming to terms with the explicitness of thou beauty.
In your presence I seem to have acquired x-ray vision... My sense of smell heightened I am lost in they wake.
I find my phallus hanging heavy... The eye crying tears as I contemplate what I would do unto you... What you would do unto me.
The sex so incredible as I touch you in your erotic places... The feel of your skin against my fingertips... You fill the panorama of my windowpanes.
I seeking to make you wetter... Your juices dripping off my elbows as I finger you... Dropping from the hairs of my beard as I lick of thee.
Your flavor overwhelming my taste buds and sending me careening... A spaceship in freefall as it enters your atmospheres.
🔥 in the very core of my planet... Water on my surface.
You my queen... I'll bet I could make you wetter.

(I COULD'VE LOVED YOU SO)

When I was a boy I saw love... I wanted it so.
A young prince so infatuated with visions of a princess... Castle superimposed against a blue sky, white clouds suspended puffy and white.
Love however eluded me, always just out of reach... Fevered dreams.
I a boy learning that love could be such a savage thing... Fingernails bitten to the quick... Heatbeats thumping in my chest.
When I was teenager love though close never wrapped me in its embrace... So many factors that the equation never added up.
I saw love as it touched others, softly caressing them as it beat me down... So hard to love when surrounded by bricks and concrete... By the reality of living in Babylon.
Love defined by the fact that I couldn't see Christianity or unsee visions of slavery.
Graffiti images of full lips and beautiful brown eyes drawn on project walls... I alone in the steel and glass jungle.
When I became a man love in a way had become my enemy... I a man unwilling to share even an iota of my pain.
What woman could overstand the depths of my darkness... Where I came from? Where I wanted to be?
A stranger walking among the masses... Sheep wearing the skin of humans... Surrounded by so many who worshipped and prayed at the temple materialism.
Internalized tears turning into boiling water that cooked my soul.
Love leaving me wanting and wondering... Why did love have to hurt me so?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THEY THEORETICALLY DISPOSED)

One day they fell from the sky... That proverbial motherfucker they... The biblical theoretical they.
They, will make a man tired of they monkey ass shit... Nasty bitch tis a scary bitch they... All the time throwing they in your face.
Fuck that they don't even know you... Them punk ass motherfuckers I dissertate pon they...
Snakin ass heathen they... Stankin pussy bitch they.
I will go straight ballistic on they... Buss cap in the ass of they... I don't care bout they... Who the fuck is they any motherfucking way?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

INTRODUCTION TO A SOCIOPATHS GUIDE TO HOMELESSNESS IN AMERICA.

Okay.
Time to come clean and expose what I was doing when I was off the grid.
For about 8 months I lived as a homeless panhandler. I didn't have to but I felt I was losing touch with the people I fight for everyday. The downtrodden. I played my role to perfection and found myself in some very interesting situations.
I was profiled by the police, called monkey, bum and even nigger by white people and black people. I met many good people too, black and dare I say white.
I also saw many acts of violence committed by the people I was amongst, I also saw many acts perpetrated against them.
I had guns pulled on me on two occasions and had to defend myself in a few occasions.
Usually threats worked but at times I had to fight.
One thing I can admit is I was never hungry because no matter what somebody is gonna feed you people will give you food faster than they will money. At times I had so much food that I had enough to share with others who shared my condition.
My dad Willie Lawrence Murphy taught me to never judge another man to hastily or to harshly and that served me well as I navigated the sometimes savage streets of Tallahassee where it seems racism played a part in every dealing I had each and every day with blacks and whites, Japanese, African and Christian preachers.
I saw things that made me laugh, made me scoff and a couple of times cry.
Believe it or not some of the people who helped me were Republicans and Trump supporters. A lot of the people who didn't were Democrats and voted for Obama and Hillary Clinton. In saying that I'm not endorsing either party or any candidate because it just shows that political affiliation has no bearing on a humans true nature, his or her heart
I have to let you in on a little secret though. I had a distinct advantage in my plight. I have studied psychology and sociology extensively and i am also very aware of body language, I can tell if you are lying, if you are defensive or amicable, if you are afraid and many other things by the way you stand, walk and talk. By the way you gesture.
Quite a few times I had the owners of establishments call the police on me, I have also had the police called on me by private citizens as well, black and white for simply standing or sitting in places.
I also learned that the old adage of all black men looking alike is very real. I was always being confused with another black panhandler who would curse and berate people who gave him nothing or what he felt was to little. No matter that I'm 5'9" and he's about 6'2" or that I'm lighter skinned and he's dark.
This is my introduction to this story that tries to delve into the reality of homelessness and what some of the causes are, as well as some of the things that the homeless and forgotten encounter on a day to day basis in this modern day Babylon where life ain't easily defined by black and white, on paper or by basis of skin
The reason I am calling this a Sociopaths Guide to Homelessness is because when most people hear the word sociopath they think serial killer but by definition a sociopath is basically a person who lacks empathy or does not have the ability to feel emotions on societies recognized norms.
This is really kind of a prerequisite of the successful homeless person and it also manifests itself in the unsuccessful homeless to a lesser degree. If someone were to ask me do I feel it's advantageous in a homeless person I would have to say yes.
So without any further ado I introduce to you my tale.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FAJR)

(Relative)
Blade of grass so strong
Supporting the weight of the world
Man should remember

(Matters)
Trees so majestic
Arms outstretched to the heavens
Homage to Allah

(Discussions)
The birds sing his name
Cows rising from bended knee
These things would man see

(Reflecting)
Clouds panoramic
White against a blue backdrop
Sneeze becoming breeze

(Translucently)
Order and chaos
The eventuality
Ascension achieved

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(DEFINITIVELY FEMININE, ON THREE)

Thou art the rhythm of a man's deepest being... The yin of his yang among other things.
Roses in bloom would bow to thy beauty as thou walkest by.
Bee's and butterflies would swarm and flock in thine wake.
Thou art the clouds as painted against the blue backdrop of Allah's sky.
The sweet smell of his rain as it falleth to his earth.
The cool soothing of a summers night.
Thine voice so reminiscent of the singing of magnificently colored birds alighting in the boughs of trees.
Man listening and falling to bended knee enraptured in the soliloquy.
Thy creation the all of human being, the thesis we.
In the end would we find our identity if only we let go of antiquated knowledge and notions.
Man so defined by his testosterone driven psychology.
He slave to visions of his superiority, God created in his image.
Thou art the reminder, if only man would overstand the key.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(LIFE, LOVE AND LUST EVERLASTING)

Punani phat... And I be... I be feeling my phallus beat... Thump, thump against the fabric of my boxers, see.
Butterflies in my stomach and flutters in my chest.
Oh the anticipation... Such a lovely pussy print... Such a lovely aroma, see.
My mind spinning as the blood pounds in my temples.
Come here my lovely... Sit pon me... Make wax philosophically... Got me vexed psychologically, see.
Lean back and take of my flesh as I stroke and rub emphatically.
Skin of my skin... Bone sheath of my bone... In you I man have found my home... We these trees, see.
Our fluids the givers of life... A moment dangling in the ecstasy... We spanning the annals of time, see
Locked in the throes of our love, riding the waves of our lust.
A kiss... A rub... A thrust, see.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

You want me to be a nigga just cause I came from red clay streets in South Georgia.
The black side of the tracks where it seemed even the sun shined shadier.
The only time a white man was seen was when he was coming to pick a nigga up.
Be he boss, the police or a crakka spreading his foul seed, religiously or literally.
You want me to be a nigga cause I lived in the projects.
A statistically, strategically tragic experience as forced pon we.
Locked behind fences and subjugated legally.
Urban dreams of belonging as our seed became the tragedy.
You want me to be a nigga cause I don't act like you.
A barbaric version of humanity unleashed upon the earth.
Vicious wolves set free among the sheep.
Pastors running loose in the pastures.
Spreading mental disease and tricknowledge among the formerly free.
You want me to be a nigga but that just can't be.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

60 seconds.

We who have lived through great travesties.
Seen the greatest of tragedies.
Mother's raped and babies ripped from wombs.
We God's prototypical reduced to these new niggas.
We being these beings birthed from the core of the most high.
Take a puff... rewind.
And here we are suspended in concrete dreams.
It ain't rosy in these streets.
So many comfortable in the defeat.
Time we take back our thrones and reclaim our home.
This the earth is ours... This the time is our hour.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

DIRT AND WATER MAKE CLAY

(DIRT AND WATER MAKE CLAY) CHAPTER 1

1.I am the rising sun cresting above the majestic trees.
2.The setting as viewed across the fruitful plains.
3.I am the atoms coalescing into the big bang.
4.The first flicker of the first human fire.
5.I am the realization of life.
The last gasp of dying.
6.I am the most horrible pain imaginable.
The gentlest soothing.
7.I am a comic hurtling through inner space.
8.The meteorite in free fall bringing coded DNA.
9.I am the creator of life.
The ultimate destroyer.
10.I am the last being you wanna see if you threaten my identity.
10.My hypervirtuality.
11.I am and shall always be.
12.The image of God, I am he.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BOOTY CALL)

Let me be your booty call.
I mean that shit with all my heart.
Let me be the one you call when you need to nut.
When you need that clit flicked in that particular way.
Your hair pulled and your back scratched.
Let me walk in the door and show you my lion.
My ferocity as I sling you on the bed and push your legs back.
Bury my face as you try to contain your moans.
As they escape and you grip the sheets.
Let me place you on your knees and rub at your fluttering petals.
Pull you back and forth and watch the ripples and waves.
I pushing at the arch of your back.
I biting you softly on the back of your neck.
Let me lose myself in the softness of your velvety.
Place your nipples in my mouth.
Taste of your fruit and your femininity.
Skin of burnt brass and hair of wool.
Eyes open wide in surprise.
You in the throes of orgasm after orgasm.
Let me have my way with you as you have yours with me.
Drops of precum and drips of your liquidity.
We drenched in the dew of our endeavors.
Slick with sweet sweat.
Muscles contracting and releasing.
You screaming, or is that me?
I never beg.
Let me be your booty call.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(WOO)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/QkQtwbtaJaM

I love to woo.
Such a delicate dance... So succinct.
You make me wanna woo... Talk to you of these things.
Look into your eyes as your voice rocks the core of my soul. Earthquakes shaking my very foundations... Storms washing away the sands.
Such eloquence in the woo as I a man talk to you... Your essence lingering in air as molecules.
The way you lick your lips makes my heart pound... Blood thumping in my ears, in my temples.
Chamber's and degrees of a man's latitudes and longitudes...
Monuments dedicated to your beauty.
Stringent tones in the most moving songs...classical all the way to rap.
I wanna sex you but I love this woo...
The way your lidded eyes remind me of dusk.
This music and I so into the melody you... I strumming on your strings, tickling your keys.
A moment stranded in the deepness of space... African astronaut contemplating the vastness.
Sex... It's cool... Yet I so love the woo.

(COSMICSPLITAHSHITSPITTAH)

Where I come from is neither beginning nor end... Life nor death.
I am the vapors that exist in the vacuum of space... The flow of time... Where time is not even a concept... Swirling constellation's and uncharted dimensions.
Darkness is always the precursor of light... Night preceding day as knowledge erupts unfettered and unchained... There is only one God... He walking man among man... Sun in the midst of sons.
Such foolhardy minions submitting to the puppet master... Swinging from the strands... Coulda been a master, nothing but a slave.
I come from the chamber's of Allah... A Serius B constellation of serious consternation relation... Child of the dark star rotating in ordained orchestration.
These words of men too minuscule to explain the complexity caused of duplicity... The pure depth of the horrendous pit... It such a cavernous maw... Souls staggeringly falling in.
Eyes cast to the heavens where they would find the God who exists buried within... So many who must sin to simply survive... Such a harrowing ride.
Where I come from life ain't a rhyme... It's a way... No play play.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE TOTALITY OF IT ALL) EROTIQUE

Awww... There you are, such a welcome sight for these sore eyes.
A whiff... A sigh.
All that pretty black skin and I... Mmmm, I wanna indulge in you.
A moment as I drink of your image, as I delight in your aroma.
All thick and hard and I... I just wanna touch you.
Melt my flesh into yours... Massage those aches away.
My fingers mingling with your flesh... Feeling your moans... Little reverberations vibrating through the all of we.
Shoulders down to arch... A buttock in each hand.
Thighs and feet... A moment at your v... A flick of your moistened clit.
I looking into your heavily lidded eyes... A push... A gentle cry.
I massaging you to your utter depths... I lingering in the crevices of your soul.
A moment at the beginning... A few moments savoring the lovely scene... We locked into the journey to orgasmic height where we cum explosively and brilliantly.
Ahhhh.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(ALL THEM...)

Regrets... Damn.
Falling like winter rain on an unprotected soul.
Cold barren days where regrets are driven by a biting wind
Regrets .. Whew!
Looking darkness smack dead in the face.
Darkness staring back such a daunting thing.
Images swirling and coalescing in and out of view.
Things a motherfucker didn't do... Things a motherfucker did do and shouldna did.
Regrets...  Aw fucking Man!
People we wish we could apologize to... Some gone on to the flow... Some locked up behind them steel does... Some done changed styles and roles.
Regrets... Dirty motherfuckers!
Coulda treated the children a little better but life was tough.
Learning a cruel teacher.
Black man seemingly alone against the world... Illusions and delusions of a random nature... All mixed up and convoluted.
Regrets... If it wasn't for them we wouldn't know how to act...
Fuck them sorry bitches...
Regret that shit.
You feel me?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SWEET SOLILOQUY)

Thou art such a lovely thing... Thou ripped from the very fabric of cosmic energy.
Man in wonder looking upon thy beauty elicits a sigh... Such is thine essence.
Upon thy birth the birds probably sang a little sweeter... The garden gleaming with morning dew.
Droplets gleaming like diamonds pon grass shoots and trees leaves... Pon the petals of vibrantly colored flowers.
Man suspended in the perfume pheromone... Floating in the scent... Such succulent smoke.
A moment of free fall into the depths of thine eyes... An astronaut exploring thy galaxies.
Light years and the such... The span of all time.
Thy being... Thy being taking he away from the pain.
A tear of joy dropping pon darkened skin... Moisture evaporating into his atmospheres.
Such a lovely thing.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(OF LOVE, PAIN AND REJUVENATION)

(Reflections)
Brightly doth she shine
Broken glass glittering
A shattered psyche

(Shadows)
Barren mental plains
Survival as the sun races
The nights darkened hell

(Rain)
Salty are the tears
Some would call them wasted years
Learning such hard pain

(Carbon and Water)
Rain falling softly
Washing away so much pain
Man rising from ash

(Reborn)
Gone are the sad days
There are others who would love him
Such the way of things

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(COSMIC WORDOLOGY ON THREE)

And I be...
I be trying to the words from the cosmic realm that would tell the black women how much they mean to me.
From the first... I mean the prototypical to now... Tell her thank you for allowing me to exist in these times.
For the birth of my father, my grandfather, my great grandfather and ad infinitum.
Thank you woman ripped from the darkness of before time, when time still existed.
Words that would free my people from the stigma slavery where we still find ourselves entwined, cause as long as we fight for it niggas ain't free... See?
God's descending into the evil of tricknowledgeology... Tricked into buying a lie that has become the reality.
Awful as that may seem.
A word ripped from the fabric could be the catalyst... Turn a nigga to a god or something like that.
It the big bang that would create new world African life...
Oh the glory.
But see I digress cause sometimes I fear the words... The words fall on deaf ears as I lie awake pondering these things.
Do they hear, overstand?
Such a conundrum as the fire, the fire burns in my belly.
My love... My love... My love for thee.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THEN TILL NOW)

Man held your hand in ancient times beyond recollection, before biblical times and the Genesis was written.
He looking in your eyes and growing stronger as you looked at him adoringly... His heart melting into the caverns of his torso.
The blackness of your skin mans escape from the savagery.
In your darkness was man found as he built a great city from Terra firma, rooms built into stone, great stones attacked on upon another.
Your name forgotten as time proceeded along... Ausar and Auset, Ra and Nut, Osiris and Isis... The progression of man.
Ancient into modern as God's fell and were replaced, men calling these things knowledge as he forgot who he truly was... Author of his own story becoming pawn.
You still a queen even as language changed and became these men speak these days... As barbarians invaded and took slaves.
Brought them to new worlds as defined by them, dark men on the shores watching as they emerged from the mist.
Caged, man looked upon your beauty as he was bought and sold, his soul torn to shreds, he became the one spoken of in Aramaic, Hebrew and Arabic.
Mans child in a promised land where he treated as less worked dawn to dusk, his solace found in your flesh.
The sound of your voice his brief reprieve until the thread lit the sky...
Ancient into the present...
Man held your hand.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(TRUTHONOMY)

The cries of those slain in slavery echo across time, those who languished and died knowing that their children would face the same fate.
This slavery.
That their grandchildren and their grandchildren would as well.
These things shown to them in prophecy and dreams, in scriptures that the church tried to hide... That preachers dared not whisper for fear that massa sitting in the pews might hear... That the deacon sitting at his right side might run and tell.
The level and the square his free Masonic prison.
His wife a fatal eastern star wearing white and leading futile hymns as the deaf, dumbed up and docile swayed and chanted... Fell to the floor and caught the holy ghost.
So unseen, so tangible as white men in white sheets came in the darkness of night and carried the strong sons away.
Left the weak to lead the masses... Silver, gold and Cadillacs their reward... Young virgins in pressed dresses and the best pieces of fried chicken at Sunday dinner the prize.
Ancestors bones laid to rest in unmarked graves screaming at the travesty as the truth revealed at their death carries them into the flow.
The Israelites have been enslaved for far to long... Victims of twisted religion and unmerited lies that would deny them their destiny.
Ancestors blood running into the gutters, ditches, and rivers would testify these things.

Deuteronomy 28:

³² Thy sons and thy daughters shall be given unto another people, and thine eyes shall look, and fail with longing for them all the day long; and there shall be no might in thine hand.

³³ The fruit of thy land, and all thy labours, shall a nation which thou knowest not eat up; and thou shalt be only oppressed and crushed alway:

³⁴ So that thou shalt be mad for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see.

³⁵ The Lord shall smite thee in the knees, and in the legs, with a sore botch that cannot be healed, from the sole of thy foot unto the top of thy head.

³⁶ The Lord shall bring thee, and thy king which thou shalt set over thee, unto a nation which neither thou nor thy fathers have known; and there shalt thou serve other gods, wood and stone.

³⁷ And thou shalt become an astonishment, a proverb, and a byword, among all nations whither the Lord shall lead thee.

49 The Lord shall bring a nation against thee from far, from the end of the earth, as swift as the eagle flieth; a nation whose tongue thou shalt not understand;

50 A nation of fierce countenance, which shall not regard the person of the old, nor shew favour to the young.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(NEW BEGINNING) A SENRYU

(Creation)
Suspended is man
Mesmerized by her beauty
Darkness becomes light

(A Whiff)
Such is her essence
Born of a stars explosion
She rendered splendid

(Queenly)
She is like the rain
Gently falling pon mans pain
Man is born anew

(Union)
Together as one
The world trembles as they step
None can stop their stride

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{AND I MAN SPEAK OF MY LOVE FOR YOU}

{AND I MAN SPEAK OF MY LOVE FOR YOU}


And I a man looked upon you as no other man ever could or will.
I appreciating every last wrinkle and line.
The rise of your hips and the very deep brown of your eyes.
The way you lick your lips and the lilt of your voice.
How it makes the very Beast rise from the blood coursing through mine veins.
He heavy and hard and pressing against the very fabric of mine pants.
Such a conundrum art thou as I try to relate these things to you.
The very depths of the Eloquent Beasts heart.
The true dimensions of his love, such cosmic implications.
These things I would leave behind for you, all of them.
Such a love that it would be written in the stars.
Sun upon Son witnessing the union of we as we big bang.
As we sit on the beach and watch the waves kiss the land.
As we create planets and moons, cognizant life and living fools.
Those who would not overstand the true expanse of who and what we are.
The truth of our being as we helix merge and become these new entities.
I a man look upon you as no other man ever could or would.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

In The Beginning As Explained At The End

Man, such an imposing figure on planet earth.
He trying to alter a thing that was in fact created perfect.
Foolish man.
Following other men in destroying himself and everything in his path.
Man, it could all be so simple.
The earth in all its pain tries to correct mans wrongs, his violent rape as the earth screams in pain.
No Vaseline.
If only, if only man were truly the spiritual being he calls himself and herself as immersed in prayer.
Religiosity destroying man from within, the words of other men having become the words of God.
Foolish man as he offers words of prayer to a hungry man while walking into a restaurant to eat.
Looking at his fellow being from behind a glass.
Magnified and insignificant, life as designed while existing in a fish tank.
Babies raised as social experiments, food to feed the beast God Corporation.
Lord of it all as man and woman flock to the malls, the specialty clothing stores to prove themselves worthy of existing in a state of false God adulation.
To prove themselves better than other men who may have it all figured out.
Living on truly cosmic vibrations, the true definition of God.
He or she exiting in everything from the smallest particle to the largest living thing.
The periodic table to the helix of his design.
God defined, mans design.
And man still doesn't get it because he has been made blind.
Wandering in a desert of his minds design.
Foolish man.
And Gaia cried.

Jerald HamzahFaruq Murphy

37053833

{NONE OTHER AS UNTO I}

{NONE OTHER AS UNTO I}

THE SOUND OF ASCENDENCE...

https://youtu.be/yZOmRjo_Z7c

From the darkness to the light... I am.
There is none other as unto I and I.
These things... This existence is but a very infinitesimal part of my being... I exist in many worlds, In many different dimensions, In other realms, where petty human notions have on existence.
I was born of consciousness and incubated in the fluid of life.
Make no mistake and think that any of these things that I am telling you will free you from my wrath if you cross me for I will send you screaming and bloody into the flow.
I am God defined for I overstand his prime directives... I am he and he is me... So is she.
I have the ability to mold my surroundings to fit my needs... The ability to take a crowd and leave it standing in jaw dropped awe... The ability make mine enemies fall to their fear filled knees.

No church can control me... No religion can limit mine bounds.

I am...
None other.
I am.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(WAR INNA BABYLON)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/jzM9tfA9WwQ

You motherfuckers thought you knew me... Born red from my mother's womb.
Dusty ass clay... Wet ass thick ass clay.
Born beast in the ghettos of Georgia, forged in the urban warfare of the projects of Florida.
Judged guilty before I could speak, before I ever uttered the word Dada.
Yep you motherfuckers thought you knew me.
A fucking asteroid in the midst of planets waiting to be eradicated, mentalities and principalities.
A motherfucking anomaly in the equation.
A beast turned loose pon an unsuspecting society.
An eloquently speaking sword unleashed in the bricks and concrete.
A thermonuclear weapon with blessed devastating possibilities.
I'm glad you motherfuckers thought you knew me.
Third eye vision peering supremely... Lyrics arranged visiously... Harder than trigonometry.
A motherfucking beast born of Pharaohs and Hebrews, Slaves and rebels, Prophets and Kings into the worst situation possible.
Shitty and gritty, no remorse or pity.
Hopelessness lurking at the periphery as Idiocracy is preached on the pulpit and TV, pumped Bluetooth through headphones, played beating bass in automobile trunks.
Fodder on shelves laid and flayed as the illuminati stalks, kills and eats.
Lo eye the beast third eye see... Seen?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE VAPORS)
THE SOUND...

From the mist we came... We with so much to convey.
We thrust into the midst of such a hectic situation.
Kill or be killed, in your arms I a man found comfort.
In the most savage of situations you calmed the beast... I with the potential to be savior or demon.
I seeking you in the throngs of billions.
Two stars shining in panoramic view as we revolved on a miniscule rock.
We but two particles of carbon and water blessed with this gift... This thing called life.
A hundredth of a second... A gasp... A cry... A breath.
A brush of fingertips as we reach for each other's hands.
A mashing of lips as we kiss.
A melding of souls as we mate.
We passing on these things we have learned.
We melting back into the mist as we dissipate.
Remnants of love lingering in our wake.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{ASCENSION}
THE SOUND RISING...
https://youtu.be/nO9SJrf1ZKA


{Dust}
I a man erupt
Cosmic the cataclysm
Dust has become flesh

{Water}
Drops of water fall
Rain washing away hubris
Children laugh and play

{Clay}
The sun reveals life
The helix spins D.N.A.
There is but one god

{Knowledge}
I in everything
A particle in the grand scheme
I am I in I

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(HOW DEEP DOTH I A MAN LOVE GO)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/DSzA6RbV7nA

I want your body... I mean I really want your body.
Every inch of you... The mental and the physical... The highs and the lows.
You got me aching in the wanting to know you.
So fucking bad... And I... Oh I... So much to say that I couldn't say it in a lifetime.
I feel you in the fires of my synapses... Igniting my soul... Oh I... I need you so.
Words cascading into the utter depths of all I a man know.
I alone for so long and I... I miss a woman's touch.
The heavily lidded eyes of lust... The sharp intakes of air.
The aftermath of coitus... A sigh, a cigarette, some conversation as sleep lingers at the edges.
I a man all alone contemplating these things... Your image on my pineal movie screen.
Object of my inspiration... Painted so vividly... An exhibit in my mentality.
The excruciating agony of loves torture ripping at a man's core.
I would hold you metaphysical in the throes of my dying.
You an angel as a man departs for Sheol... The gentlest brush of your metaphorical wings.
I want your body... I want your soul... Mine is your to take.

The Hebrew word seol [l/a.v], "Sheol, " refers to the grave or the abode of the dead ( Psalms 88:3 Psalms 88:5 ).

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SHE MAKES HE...) SENRYU WRITTEN FOR SHERINA.
https://youtu.be/1EE5zsfePWE

(The Gift)
She from heaven falls
Man enthralled contemplates she
He is satisfied

(Nuclear)
Air cold on brown skin
Her vision warms his red blood
The sun testifies

(Melting)
The shine of her skin
She makes his hard heart grow soft
To wax allusions

(Phycological)
She invades his psyche
A most pleasurable vibe
So very pineal

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE BEAST!!! THE BEAST!!!)
THE SOUND IN THE LAIR...
https://youtu.be/K69lOSYTuSw

Beast arises from his lair... Beast born of the darkness of before creation.
Beast borne embryonic in black woman... Sired of black man.
Beast on entering the light sees the folly... Men and women living under other humans rule.
Beast horrified watches as potential beasts are destroyed... Torn down and becoming parodies and caricatures.
Beast roars and bitches cringe for subsonic his voice... Pulling at heart strings... Making them vibrate.
Beast so metaphoric that his words unlock ancient chambers in slaves brains... Warriors and True Amazonians arise.
Beast would leave bloody bodies lying on battlegrounds... Torn and broken... Moaning in pain.
Beast knowing only one thing... The black blood flowing in his veins... The black thoughts flowing in his brain... The blackest parts of his skin.
Beast hunted and persecuted by the ones spawned in caves... Beast damned to hell by his own as they on pulpits prance and dance.
Puppets and marionettes... Traitors to the throne of Dawood.
Beast in the concrete jungles stalks his prey...
Ahhhhh meat.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY