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Sunday, July 21, 2013

HAIKU JIT-SU] CHAMBER OF THE LITTLE DEATH


[HAIKU JIT-SU] CHAMBER OF THE LITTLE DEATH

THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... SOME A DAT GANJA DEN SHIT...
http://youtu.be/gygwcP62Xwc


FOREPLAY 

The flower flutters 
Bursting into existence 
He is enchanted

BIORHYTHM 

Blood surging in hearts
They as one merge to feed the need
Hunger in their souls

FLUIDLY 

His appendage shines
Covered in lubrication 
Sighs become the song


BEATDOWN 
She encases him
Her tunnel becomes his sheath
They strive for release.

OBLIVIOUSLY 

She quivers orgasm 
Explosively he fills her 
They bathed in sweat lie



JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Friday, July 19, 2013

[THE MESSAGE AND THE MESSENGER]


[THE MESSAGE AND THE MESSENGER]
THE SOUNDTRACK...
 http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL24cV6IIynrZsJWxXB1RdmNKvU-CW4-YU


On an otherwise sunny day there is a flash of lightning.
On a street corner a man appears and a fly in flight bumps into his face.
The fly catches himself and fly's away in confusion.
No one notices the mans appearance and the city moves along as it did before. The man is not dressed in finery nor is he glowing or anything of the sort.
He steps from the curb when the light changes and begins to walk. He passes a bakery and marvels at the smell of bread and sweets. He pauses and watches a young woman at a table as she nibbles at a pastry, puts it down and sips from her cup of coffee as she reads what is on her tablet.
He knows that she will have two children, one a boy and the other a girl.
He also knows their lives as well.
He turns from the window and continues to walk and the city grows more decrepit as he travels along.
A woman stands on the corner and her clothes barely hide her body, she turns to him and smiles and asks him if he would like a good time.
She walks up to him and rubs his arm and jumps back as if she has been shocked, her mouth opens and closes and suddenly she does not need the drugs that have made her sell her body for the last 7 years. She looks down at her body and notices how she is dressed and tries to cover herself.
She looks up and the man is walking away, he does not look back and she turns and walks away as well.
She has not seen her children in days and suddenly she is concerned about them.
The man walks past drug dealers on corners and men begging for coins.
He walks with purpose, there is someone who he must see.
He hears the children who play on these glass strewn streets and even after all his time he finds joy in their innocent voices.
He eventually reaches the place where he needs to be and knocks on the door and it is answered by a young black man of about 14 years old who looks as if he has seen just a little to much.
The young man asks him who he is here to see. His mother is not home.
The man looks at him and tells him that he is here to see him.
The young man looks him up and down and says. "Who sent you here?"
The man says "May I come in?"
The young man looks at him and there is something about the man that makes him say yes.
The man enters and the young man closes the door and walks into the living room and invites him to sit down.
The man does and he watches the young man as he sits down.
He says nothing and the young man looks at him and asks him why he is here.
The man looks at him and says "I am here for you. you have something very important to do."
The young man looks at him and asks him "Man what are you talking about? What do I have to do?"
The man looks at him and says "It is time."
"Man you ain't making no sense, time for what?"
"It is time for you to assume your rightful place."
"What rightful place? What does that mean."
The man looks him in his eyes and the boy sees movement in his pupils. It is like looking at a small movie screen.
The young man stands and says "Man what is this?"
The man looks at him while still sitting and says I was sent by the most high to bring you a message and to guide you."
The young man looks at him and says "Man you gotta go, you some kinda weirdo or something?"
The man looks at him and says "No weirder than the world is today, no weirder than your current situation. Where is your father?"
The young man looks at him and says"He is in prison."
The man looks at him and nods "Exactly. He is locked away in forced servitude by this system which made him into the man he was. That is what must change."
The young man hears something in his voice and sits back down.
"Who are you?"
"I am but a messenger. You are the future."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I came to give you something son of man and it will be a burden to you for the rest of your days if you accept. It will make you different and at times it will make you seem as if you are a madman. It is something that has only been given to a few choice men throughout humanities history and it set them apart from the ordinary."
The young man looks at him and says "I need proof."
The man stands and says to the young man "Look into my eyes."
The young man does and what he sees amazes him, he sees man in his beginnings, he sees war and starvation, he sees death and life being created. The images are so powerful that the young man is swept along by them.
He suddenly finds himself back in the living room and notices that hours have passed and it now grows dark outside the window.
He looks at the man and says "I am but a boy. How can I change these things?"
Te man looks at him and says "Believe."
The young man says "What kind of an answer is that?"
The man speaks and his words seem to fill the room "I am here to bring you this knowledge, yet you must not question me or my methods.When it is time for me to reveal I will."
The young man looks at him and says "If you are a messenger of the most high prove it to me. show me you as you truly are."
The man stands and walks to the back door and beckons the young man to follow. They walk into the backyard and the man begins to speak "Only a few men have seen this and there is no way I can show you all of me so I will only show you enough." He shimmers in the evening light and it is as if he is two things at once.
He is the man, yet he is also truth and light and his wings blot out the sky. Suddenly he is just the man again and he says "Son, what is your answer?"
The young man says yes.
The man says to him "It is time for me to leave ." He bids the young man farewell and tells him that he will be back and he walks from the side gate and is gone.
The young man walks into the house and is still sitting on the couch when his mother comes home.
She looks at him and says "Boy what have you done to your hair?"
He goes into the bathroom closes the door and looks in the mirror... his hair is grey.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY



Thursday, July 18, 2013

We all died a little more last night along with a black boy who shot expired in the rain…
 See, we died victims of an ingrained system of not doing a damn thing when they killed yet another nigger.
We were killed by peaceful resistence as endorsed by the NAACP and a black president scared to speak while living in a white house.
He was killed by pontificating preachers who always go for the money shot while leading ineffectual marches.Talking bout calm while our children are treated like common pond scum and black lives continue to lose value.We died in the malls where we spend money on name brand clothes and Jordans… Make them the priority.Killed on stages where rappers strut their stuff talking about killing another brother… Slave name, bitch ass nigger.We died cause all this talk and no action ain’t bout shit when its our blood that is spilled by guns that are made and sold by white men.Silly porch monkeys fighting over rented property and poverty striken streets.We die cause we became the word nigger

Saturday, July 13, 2013

PARTING THE RED SEA


[PARTING THE RED SEA] ANOTHER PIECE DEDICATED TO TRAYVON'S MEMORY
THE MUSIC AND THIS PIECE WAS WRITIN TO THIS BEAT... YOU MISS IT AND YOU MISS THE POINT...
http://youtu.be/DgFJdh9tCsc

When...
When are we gonna stop depending on a system that has shown no remorse...
No remorse for our ancestors who died as beasts and were buried in unmarked christian graves.
All the while we were the problem...
"Oh those niggers." a chuckle.
When are we gonna realize that a white education ain't done a damn thing but get us one step closer to the slavery which we find ourselves running from...
Slaving in the Pharaohs pits as the system keeps up pinned down...
Mentally and physically bound.
Still guzzling pork chops and 40s as another of our young lies with his brains on the ground.
When is Moses gonna rise from the ranks and strike the guard down...
Part the real red sea Atlantic and lead us back to the promised land...
As we float above the bones of those dead and gone before.
We who were once warriors and philosophers, scientists and architects...
Now having become thugs, pimps and hoes...
Niggas and bitches on Facebook and Instagram...
Where we spout the nonsense as taught in public schools to which we send our young to become system food... 
"Ahhh, nigger tastes good." Serve that motherfucker with name brand jeans.
When are we gonna gird our loins and become that which we were meant to be when we were created in Allahs laboratory...
Those kings and queens.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

[FIRST LOVE] DEDICATED TO KAREN COBB THURMAN


[FIRST LOVE] DEDICATED TO KAREN COBB THURMAN, MY FIRST LOVE
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... LISTEN KAREN...
http://youtu.be/iA2Cs2E_iB4

They say you never forget your first love...
The first girl that ever stole your breath away...
They say that it stays with you forever...
Locked into your structure...
A part of your makeup.
I heard her voice again last night and she wiped away so many years...
Took me back to an innocence so long ago lost...
I destined to wander this life another way as she went hers...
She always a part of me even when I tried to distance myself from memories...
We playing in the yard of a tenement in Babylon...
Her voice that of child as mine was then...
I having no idea of the powers that were in motion...
She has become the ideal in my scribe when I write of unification...
The fantasy when I reach into the well from which I draw these things...
Hers is the face that haunts my writing soul...
Soft soap and fresh skin...
My very first love has endured these tests of all this time...
Never to be forgotten...
She has become inspiration personified.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY


HAIKU JIT SU



[HAIKU JIT SU] THE LOVERS FATED
THE MUSIC FOR THIS SCRIBE... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN AS YOU READ...
http://youtu.be/sBvPnqZe6V4


NATURE 
Beautiful swan
So graceful and black as night
She is resplendant


REPOSED
The winter beckons
A slight wind on a hot day
A subconscious nudge


COMPLEXITY
What of spring gone away
Man in fall ponders the past gone 
Geese in formation


DUPLICITY 
She his comfort comes 
On cold days reminiscing
They become future


Archeological
The dirt falls away
Layers reveal bones bleached white
Their love has endured


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
NATURE 
Beautiful swan
So graceful and black as night
She is resplendant

REPOSED
The winter beckons
A slight wind on a hot day
A subconscious nudge

COMPLEXITY
What of spring gone away
Man in fall ponders the past gone 
Geese in formation

DUPLICITY 
She his comfort comes 
On cold days reminiscing
They become future

ARCHEOLOGICAL
Dry dirt in layers
Falling away and revealing