(ANGELS DONT CRY... SO DRY YOUR EYES) A ONE WORD SUBMISSION SCRIBE

Such a sweet epiphany... This world, these lives.
Symphonic tones on a celestial harp... Angels singing in heavenly choirs.
These luscious images ripped from the cosmic all... Mamihlapinatapai... If only she could see as me... As I see.
Our existence infinitesimal if only we continued the ways of old.
Father as son as grandson, so on and so forth... Into the continuum.
Yet here we are... So many fascinated by the bling...
Bedazzled and confused by the nefarious ones.
They having become abomination... the self absorbed ones foretold of in holy scrolls.
One looking in from without would probably ponder these things... One looking out from within would cringe in horror at the hypocrisy.
The passionate way they sell these beings this desolation... Preachers and pimps dancing in adulation.
It seems the only ones who truly see exist in the state  apostasy... This could been such a lovely journey.
Instead it's become such an awful tragedy.
All these worlds... All these lives.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

REE: BLING
LATOYA: SWEET, LUSCIOUS
MUSTAFA: ABOMINATION
TIONNE: EPIPHANY
DONNETA: INFINITESIMAL
CHARLES: APOSTASY
ROBERT: NEFARIOUS
JUSTIFIED: PASSIONATE
GWEN: Mamihlapinatapai

(BLACK IDEOLOGICAL)

In darkness I am found... Even on the brightest of days I am found wandering in pitch blackness.
Such solitude in these halls where silence is my solid friend.
My voice an echo bouncing back... Again and again.
No bounds and I a man soar to the outer boundaries of I a man existence.
Suspended transitional in my transcendence.
Sparks of darkness in the darkest of dark... Zen in the yang where the inky air reverberates and resonates.
Triple stages where so many reside unawares... Sheep standing crowded in one corner, wolf standing in the other.
Dinner.
They who would defend these things... Vultures perched in bare trees...
World in turmoil... Man in blindness roams.
Lost in the darkest of the dark.
Where eye, am found.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(🌞 AWAKENS SON)

Morning and the 🌞 arises... The son arises.
Light caresses the tops of the trees... The birds sing.
Air crisp is inhaled deep into lungs... Fresh is the day... Invigorating.
Bud of 🌹 hangs in anticipation... Warmth will draw it out.
Petals glistening in the ultraviolet rays.
The chitters of the squirrels and the buzzing of 🐝.
Allah suspended on the breeze.
Such promise in each passing millisecond... So many eventualities.
Such a vividly blue sky... Such a sight for man's 👀.
Son born of the very ground he walks upon... A product of nucleonic reactions and Subatomic particles.
Gods and Goddesses who would pontificate pon these degrees...
Schools of transcendent thought sprouting from places pineal... The deepest of the darkest and the most brilliant light.
🌞 arising pon Sons skin... A moment as peace is found.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(OF BLOSSOMS AND WIND)

Sitting in the shade of the plum tree man is swept along on the scent of it's blossoms.
A never-ending journey as it lessons become apparent it's branches the letters transposed against a blue and white sky.
Al-‘Ankabūt spinning her gossamer web... Bird building nest... Car passing by.
Lives so far apart yet so entwined.
Nature and all that.
Mind drifting to far ancient times and deeper meanings and things.
The formation of the cosmos and ancient societies. Mans place in the deen and the ways of the dunya.
These beings we have become... A slight breeze and the branches shift a bit.
Words transcendent ripped from cosmic scrolls.
This the causality. Oh the fallacy of creating false God's... Of following false religion no matter where from.
The power within dismissed as men's words penetrate into seeking souls... Turn them into empty shells seeking fulfillment... Looking without while ignoring within.
Plane passing across the page... The sky.
Man descending from higher plane stands...
Lessons learned.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(NOTHING NICE)

I've been thinking about you all day... How I wanna see you naked and spread.
A treat for my imagination... A blessing to behold... Food for a man's mind... Blessings for his thirsty soul.
The look in your eyes... So demur... Sending chills down my spine.
Your breasts so supple and full... Nipples at attention... Damn I wanna suck pon them.
Make you arch your back... Call my name... Say my name.
Shudders and moans... I holding tight.
The insides of your thighs shimmering wet... My hand on your clit... My finger... My tongue.
I lapping at the font of all Hue-man existence.
Primordial pheromones driving my need... Dick so hard it could fell trees.
The beauty of your flower...
The birds and the bees.
We suspended in the orgasmic causality.
Moans and screams of ecstasy... I behind you on my knees beating into your very soul.
Wetness, wetness spattering pon my belly... Splashing pon the sheets.
All day I been waiting for this.
Brang yo fine ass here.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BOOTY MAN INSANITY)

See the fucked up shit bout it is, I got a thing for female booties.
Some folks think its all about the big ass but realistically I just love all ass.
Some R Kelly mixed in I love all the booty.
Shaking, standing or firm I'm a self professed Gluteus Maximus man.
Not like normal, see?
I'm talking bout King Kong slanging buses and climbing buildings crazy.
Booty all in the corners of my mind.
Bent over and spread, labia hanging beneath.
Such a beautiful sight.
Call my name, call my motherfucking name insane.
Beast beating down on my temples, heart pounding in my phallus.
Booty, booty, booty and there I am found.
Sitting in the corner talking to myself.
Straight jacket can't contain the variations in the booty man.
Lost in fantastic thoughts of undulating cheeks.
Sweat and cum dripping to crumpled sheets.
Skin slapping as I man beat, beat, beat.
Come here my dear.
Damn I got a thang for booties.
Whew motherfucking weeee.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FREESTYLEE)

Off into the cosmos, words ripped directly from star scrolls
Galactic drops and universal truths exposed.
We but shards shining in the light of a billion sun's.
Heiroglyphics carved in the bark of trees on distant worlds.
Our melanin filled skin carrying the coded DNA that created these beings.
🔥 clay and water coalescing and becoming these beings.
These men, these women who look to starry skies.
We seeking our beginnings while hurtling towards the end.
We being found in these synchopated nouns, adverbs and blazing metaphors.
A lonesome stranger standing on a street corner, shouting into the void.
We could be free, we could be free.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(LOGISTICALLY)

He man though born of woman fell from the skies.
Son of an imploded Sun falling to the surface of the planet they would call Earth.
His being combination of carbon and water, his mentality helix formed in ancestral strands, his 💓 made of 🔥.
He man though born of woman having no beginnings, no ending.
Orders of Melchizedek and Essene priesthoods, wisdom brought forth from triple stages,  pineal and free.
Hue-man born fiery, a shining 🌟 for all to see.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SAY MY NAME)

Such a delicate thing.
Almost a lesson in fragility.
The wings of a butterfly, the sting of a billion bees.
So lovely, so deadly.
My love, my love, I would seek of thee.

(Awakening)
Man mesmerized
Her being personified
Past, present, future.

Our existence still a mystery in the grand scheme.
We who would call ourselves these Suns of the Sun.
Daughters of the earth.
I would walk the entirety of this planet to glance into thine eyes.

(Scentsual)
She smells of the breeze
Her pheromones so unique
His soul awakens

A lonely griot, a wandering bard,  heiroglyphics drawn on a cyber wall.
Such a vivid image imprinted on the screen of a man's soul.
Man would peruse of thine mysteries.
The antithesis to his thesis.
Together so entwined.
We these definitions of all these lives.
Such a delicate thing.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY