VARIOUS PHASES OF NUBIAN EROCALITY

[SEXY SWEATY SOLILOQUY]

[SEXY SWEATY SOLILOQUY] 
THE MUSIC FOR THIS WET RIDE...
http://youtu.be/QrYZ7-ffsLU

When you sweat its like a aphrodisiac soaking into the pores of me making me want to soak your pores...
We slipping and sliding into on and around each other.
Me licking at the sweat that covers your erect nipples... the rise of your belly... lingering on stretch marks that seem to remind me of the Nile... all its tributaries.
Your salty taste reminds me of primordial times, we in saline filled seas, in amniotic stasis.
Penetrating into the primal and making we free as we fuck in this eventuality.
Only pleasure exists whether biting, slapping or tied up.
Kiss me, my head at the back of your throat, the back of your womb as you thrash and buck.
Our sweat running down to the tip of a nose and poising as a drop before it falls on sweaty skin.
We so lost in the quest for a nut... for that ultimate release, a little death that takes us away... brings us back.
Rejuvenated, reincarnated and refreshed.
Sweat on the mounds of your ass as I turn you around and look down at the hanging mound.
Prepare to enter and ride the roller coaster of your tunnel.
Feel you as your ass undulates in shining splendor.
I pull out as we erupt.
Merging with the sweat...
Evaporating from fulfillment...
Dont touch me I'm having a moment...
Mmmmmm.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[MAD SAD LOVE DREAM]

[MAD SAD LOVE DREAM]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...
http://youtu.be/e6zMv6BkcCo


I feel you tugging at the strings of my heart playing like an acoustic guitar... stroking me... stroking me in the depths of my sleep.
I turn and there you are. 
I wonder cause you seem to know the ins and out of me... the ups and downs...
So long without a companion.
One who overstands that to be me is to be free, for from freedom come these living testaments that I seek to reveal to the future.
So much like torture when I am held back, to be buried in a shallow grave as people walk past and over... shadows of their former selves... stepping in my face.
Once they were in color...
So vibrant.
Now the dirt fills my eyes... gritty. shitty and full of worms.
Digging... digging.
I feel you tugging at my recognition across all these years where I have been alone... surrounded by the crowd... bumping against the transparent me.
One day may I find you... one day may we live in each others arms while looking into each others eyes.
I fucking feel you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[POETIC SUNDANCE IN WINTERS HOLD]

[POETIC SUNDANCE IN WINTERS HOLD]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...
http://youtu.be/GrIiJuKHoRM

In the dead of winter as clouds cover the sun and the skeletons of trees dot the landscape...
Cold visions of this stark reality.
Chilling fingers of memories past seeping in and caressing in the darkness of night...
Crossing over into the overcast days.
A poetic journey into the freezing mentality where even the joy is tinged with sadness.
Cold are the ways of men... Cold are the ways of woman.
All have done dirt... Tried to sweep it under the proverbial carpet.
Covered it up.
Just like these clouds that hide the sun... Keep it from shining through.
Let a man see... Let a man be.
Break the barriers that hold we bound.
Set humanity free...
Basking in the sunshine we.

jerald hamzahfaruq murphy

WE NEED

[WE NEED]

THE MUSIC FOR THIS SCRIBE. I WOULD ADVISE YOU TO LISTEN...

http://youtu.be/b5D22VCGkmI

There you are born of mans need... born of grains of sand and water molded into perfection.

Where I thrust out you fold in... where I am hard... you soft.

Where I am dry you are wet.

Sating my thirst.

A mirage manifesting in shimmering vision as the highway falls beneath my feet, so many miles traveled, so many to go.

There you are formed naked and free... clothed by the need to control... clothed by closed minds.

Where once you were the definition of beauty you have now embraced the illusion... makeup and new shoes.

Once fresh now just another face in the crowd of being the same.

Fake hair, nails and injected behinds and you scream at us to keep it real.

Teflon queens and maybelline dreams of covering it all up.

There you are still the apple in man fruit tree... the pineapple in mans field of vision... a cocoa seed waiting to be the chocolate that melts on mans taste buds.

So sweet that to be without you is the worst sort of craving.

Here we are, men still suspended in that need.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

AS

[AS]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...
http://youtu.be/YQ2rOqdD-HU


As...
As the sun rises above the cosmos and drowns out the light of the other stars, leading us into day.
We these fragmented pieces of those who traveled the stars in a time before.
Once when we remembered who we were.
The garden on other planets and in other realms.
Once when we walked with Allah as our guide... Angels of fire and life infinite.
So far has man fallen from the mark as he is guided by the conglomerate to fiery ends...
Blazing hellfire... Screams into the smoke to be let go... Thermonuclear devastation as the leaders lead us into war.
As...
As we cross into a new millenia still lingering in the vestiges of racism and holding our fellow man down.
Forgetting that we once ruled vast kingdoms and our minds.
That the key lies within.
As the moon rises and the stars break out of their cages are we...
The guide to above and beyond as a moor stands at the helm.
As we.

Jerald hamzahfaruq Murphy

[WE ALWAYS COME BACK]

[WE ALWAYS COME BACK]

THE MUSIC AND THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS....

http://youtu.be/YQ2rOqdD-HU

Once when a child love so new seemed to be the sweetest thing...

Fairy tales where princesses waited in glades and princes rescued them from witches and monsters...

They got married and lived happily ever after in perpetual peace.

Time went on and a young boy saw episodes of domestic violence and broken hearts as love began to reveal her truth.

The witches and monsters sometimes lived in the same house and love wasn't always such a nice thing...

Love had a temper, she could take a nice day and make a beautiful woman cry, turn a cool dude into a fool running around tearing shit up.

Love was jealous and sometimes carried rage... she was the cause of crimes of passion and of  a whole lot of wars.

Her many manifestations ripping at the sanity of so many.

A young man emerged and love tore at his hormones as girls seemed to take on new meaning... Stolen kisses in the parking lot of the church... in the hallways at school.

Foolishly thinking that love was under control as she continued to teach her lesson... Love so harsh a teacher cause its the ones you love who hurt you most... Love has made them closest.

An older man and love still calls out in the night... dreams of her that make a man awake with tears on his cheeks... Missing her so much.

Love seems sometimes to be the bitch and sometimes the whore... sometimes the dirty motherfucker that we never want to anymore.

Love never leaves and we never let go...

Love threatens to rip our hearts out of our chests, to consume our souls and gives us moments of happiness and joy...

We need her so much.

We always find ourselves coming back to love no matter how much she hurts.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY