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