THESE ARE THE WRITES OF A TRAVELER
(OF LOTUS BLOSSOMS)
She showed me her flower... A whiff of pheremones in the still air.
I man heady and fluttered by the scent sank to my knees and kissed her petals.
Engaged the stem.
So wet with her dew... A moment as I sank back and perused, blew a little breeze.
Watched as her forest trembled a bit.
I man so heavy that I man would make the mountains quake.
She hath encompassed me so.
Tears do my one eye cry... The beauty... The beauty.
I man would suck of her soul and sip of her essence.
The softness of her flesh would feel of my worshipping hands.
A pilgrimage to her temple where I finding peace would rest.
I man would sniff of her flower.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(YO MAMMY) KISS MY BLACK ASS
I just wanna say from the bottom of my blackest heart formed in the pits of Babylon... Yo Mammy.
Coming in my face with your preconceived notions and your petty differences... Yo Mammy.
On that bitch ass bull shit and that pure fuckery... Yo Mammy.
Just throwing that on yo punk pussy ass bout a half a degree in the midst of your insanity... Yo Mammy mixed in the elaboration.
Pimped by the system... Yo Mammy.
Thank I give a damn... Yo Mammy.
Bout a battering ram... Yo Mammy.
I don't give a fucking fuck.
A pause in the midst of your fucked up psychology.
I just wanna take a moment to congratulate.
Yo Mammy.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(FLUSTERED)
And here I sit thinking of you and you, whew, you blow my mind.
Our meeting resonating into a man's deepest Chambers.
Echoes across his annals of time.
Man in third person, looking out and reflecting in.
Like a whiff of feminine to nostril, one left, one right, straight woman drains spreading wings pon a man's brain.
That shit that makes some a dese men go straight insane, gotta say it street cause.
Reality.
Got me thinking of ancient time and distant futures, universal travelers speaking of true love.
Pineal connections and skeletal vibrations emanating from vibrant cores.
Rebirth and resurrections as tales are spread on new worlds of who we were.
Cultures born.
And here I sit.
Damn!
Contemplating you.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
(FRIDAY MORNING IN NEW BABYLON) OF LOVE AND THE JONES
So fascinating, and I be trying to put her into perspective.
She such an elusive specimen and I the wonder filled observer.
So many mysteries that she keeps me enthralled.
I want to know she in the most intellectual ways, the most carnal of ways.
I would observe her in absolute awe until the day I no longer inhabit this mortal thread.
Her mind I would make ooze in braingasms as I the traveler would tell her of the worlds I've seen.
The galaxies I've crossed to find she.
I seeking to vibrate her very core, play on the strings of her heart.
A song so stringent that the pressure exerted would collapse suns, cause big bangs.
Darkness becoming light as new life forms would erupt from oceans never having seen birth.
Primitive societies painting we as gods and goddesses on cave walls and pyramids.
Civilization following in our wake, born of the union of Son and Earth.
We realized.
We theorized.
We in fruition.
We.
She and me.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
