[TEARS OF THE BEAST] A LOVE NOTE
THE SOUND, POUNDING, POUNDING...
http://youtu.be/YRX5m_7HBtI

One of the hardest things I try to explain to you is how I really feel.
I mean the depth of my emotions... The magnitude.
Sex to me is a post-lude yet at the same time its a prelude.
See, its so very hard for me to separate the beast from the intellect...
The primal from the modern.
The butt naked nasty from the gotta be seen in public see?
I tend to find all of it so confusing cause if I want you I am going to woo you.
Talk to you and try to show you the all of me.
The beauty of all I see.
Pick flowers wild and arrange them in the most beautiful patterns for you...
Feed you chocolate and seafood.
The things that I the beast find enthralling as I watch you enjoy the taste, the smell and the texture.
As you take my mind on a journey of the most epic proportions.
The jut of your nipples as they press against the fabric...
The phatness of your pussy print...
The sway of your ass as I swept along walk behind you...
I the beast wanting you to overstand that to me its not all about the pussy nor the nut...
That its all about the build up... The dance.
The softness and the hardness.
The whole 360.
I wanting you to know that when I look at you I see us old and grey still holding hands and kissing.
That there is nothing that will rip us apart as long as you realize these things, no matter what your friends say.
No matter what the world throws in our way.
Here I am beast...
Trying to say these things to you in a way you can comprehend...
I feel so...
Misunderstood.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{IN THE HIGHER HEIGHTS}
THE EMOTIONAL LEVEL WE FIND OURSELVES ON AS WE INTERDIMENSIONAL LISTEN TO THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/YiNvdtYr3eo

If I took you to the outer dimensions of my mind could you or would you survive?
Would you roam lost in the antimatter... The dark matter that is echoed in my skin... in my heart.. In my syncopated words.
The rhythm of me as I resonate higher frequency.
Would you or could you overstand the mechanics of survival on foreign soil where my stolen ancestors are still vilified for being hung, raped and mentally tortured.
The mathematics of such a horrendous scheme as another black body falls felled by the gun of the police...
A driveby... A robbery.
The sum of the equation.
Suspended animation as we repeat the same tale over and over again... Looped and spliced and played out on big screens as reality T.V.
Babies crying in dissatisfaction on the soundtrack as life speeds by the sleepers eyes.
He frozen in carbonite waiting, waiting for better days that will never come if he does not awake.
His prison virtual is the only existence he knows as the planets and the asteroids spin... As his ship drifts in subspace...
Beyond the timelines and constrictions of his teachings... his learning's.
A mother looking at a picture of her baby who died so young... He killed by the demon inaction and systematically induced crime.
The savage and brutal tale of the have and the have not's.
The laugh track at the irony is cued... The audience sighs.
There is no day in the depths of my space... there is no night.
I drift interdimensional...
My sight... My sight.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 

DELICATE TENDER BEASTS MEET ON THE BATTLEFIELD OF LOVE AND LUST

[DELICATE AND TENDER BEASTS MEET ON THE BATTLEFIELD OF LOVE AND LUST]
THE SOUND AS THE BEASTS BEATDOWN...
http://youtu.be/5_V4ZgkP8DE

In she came, an apparation lingering in the beasts peripherals...
The beast pacing stopped and sniffed at the air and smelled of her...
Such a whiff of such an exotic fragrance.
The beast in eloquent roars and utterances begged of her to come nearer... He listened to her as she dropped her wisdom.
It sating the beasts synapses and he lay back and rode the vibe... her voice.
They on such a level playing field... He in his lair and she within.
The beast in his longing wanting to stroke of her... To excite her insides as she excited his... Oh the beast wanted this so.
Yet this woman so intelligent made him want to hear her song... It sung in alto tones so decent and smooth.
The beast and the woman conversing walked across a diaspora of things War, sex and peace...
The beast asked of her to show a little bit and she did... And the conversation it continued for the beast did not want to lose her, Mmmmmm... And he savored her, asking to see a bit more and she in her wanting showed him.
It was then that The beast saw her beast... Pulling at it, rubbing it he brought the she beast from her recesses and she began to purrrrr...
Her so wet and thick and making the beast grow heavy in his loins... He swinging low and thick.
They on such a level playing field... Two beasts unleashed.
She begging him to fill her... He driving into her fell and they danced such a primal dance that reality seemed to fall away into the dark.
A lily in the field and the bee alighteth... The sound of his wings as thumping thunder... His footsteps the Thump, Thump, Thump...
She begging of he to spill his seed, to fertilize her as he drives into her womb.
Her petals wrapped around his rigidness...
He panting and licking... Squeezing and prodding... Spanking and Roaring savagely.
They talking so dirty and filling the air with sound.
The beast and the she beast finding relief in these times where there is so much turmoil... They Warrior and Queen.
They on such a level playing field and finding comfort in each others naked lust.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY.

{MY SOUL BLEEDING SCREAMS FOR A QUEEN}
THE SOUND IN STEREOPHONIC 3D
http://youtu.be/WRPLKxKDBf0

I have written to you so many times that I should be out of words, yer that is not the case as ink flows from the deepest wells of my soul...
Stains these pages in tomes designed to uplift you from the depths of unknowing as we linger in these modern times waiting for our futures to become manifest.
I looking upon your form am reminded of all the men who have stood by and watched you become the concubine, the raiser of our oppressors babies, the left alone as whole families were birthed from your womb.
I write so that you may know my pain at knowing these things, so that you may know that I love you so, so that you may know I won't let go.
These letters the blood of my being as I beg of you to hear me, to look me in my eyes and see the anguish of not having one such as you by my side.
As you continue to choose men mislead to believe that you are a possession, a bitch, a whore, anything but the queen.
I trying to put you into perspective as I looking into the telescope peer across your universe and fathom your cosmos.
I a Lion know that I am king but I Lion roam alone in this my kingdom as your scent crosses my nose, such an old thing as it wafts by.
Its been so long.
I seeking to write you the most beautiful piece of prose ever written, so sweet that it bringing you to tears baptizes you, sanctifies you and gives you the keys to the gates of a future heaven.
That's how much I love you the mother of all hue-man life on this planet 3 removed from the sun that we orbit around, the carbon and water mixed and placed in the kiln of thy womb... Extracted as a living breathing person.
I tracing your stretch marks in my memory try to remember the path that the map told me to follow.
Its been so damn long.
I trying to explain myself as the ink continues to pour unabated from the blackest depths of my souls cosmos.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{FIRE AND BRIMSTONE RAINING FROM MENTAL SKIES} TOPIC SUBMITTED BY SARAH B TONIN
THE SOUND OF BLACK ANGEL LIGHT DESCENDING FROM HEAVEN...
http://youtu.be/5hZ84aSZpWk

For almost 5 hundred years black people have been the victim of an uncaring system...
Taught to blame themselves for being slaves, being placed on the bottom rung, being excluded from basic hue-man rights.
Woe unto the ones who lost in Babylon have forgotten the fact that they were once the right hand of a black God.
That they themselves are sons and daughters of God.
They afraid to acknowledge that fact have become the worlds villified  and defiled race.
They who would believe anything are told that they are the problem...
That white is right and black is a crime... It so evil.
They led to believe that things have changed watch their children murdered in the streets by guns produced and sold by the white man.
Watch their children try new drugs produced and manufactured by the white man.
How many black men do you know that bring drugs into the country by boat, train or plane?
They crying in the cemeteries lay their children to rest and denounce saggy jeans, thug mentalities and black on black crime.
They do everything to avoid denouncing the real problem... to confront it head on.
The young black mother holding her now fatherless child falls to the ground as the white media finds a way to twist the story.
Make the innocent black man the beast.
He innocent because he is the true victim.
Victim of the great white lie... That the riches they stole are not owed back to us.
That education is equal... That mass media gives a damn about them while producing shows that show us in a negative light.
A false reality cause you ain't rich like them new niggas.
They spending hard earned dollars trying to be like them all the while not realizing the cold hard fact...
That all you are is just another nigga.
That this is Babylon...
That we must become the fire and brimstone raining from the skies of our minds...
Then and only then will God lead us from clouds of smoke and fire...
Back to the promised land from whence we came.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[TITILLATION]

[TITILLATION]
THE SOUND PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND...
http://youtu.be/yh0rGbd5vsg

Here alone in my four cornered room I find myself wanting to lick of you.
To suck passion marks on your heart and thighs.
Make your pussylips swollen and your clit grow hard.
Take you to erotic heights where all that exists is the moans the sighs and the sweat of our passion...
The smell of sex as you wet gyrate on my tongue.
I licking my way into the corners of your mind where your sanity resides...
Take it and stroke it tenderly as I take it to the limits of all your reasoning...
To the door of insanity as I kiss it and lay it down...
Push your legs as far back as they can possibly go and hum a slow song...
Taste of thy cum as it wets your walls and spills forth , onto my lips, onto the hairs of my beard.
Your cries the basis for my being... Your juice so sweet flowing from your liquid depths.
Your nipples the dark berry dangling from life's tree as I pluck them ripe and nibble...
Fill myself on the flesh.
Trace a line down your stomach and flick a soft beat on your pussylips... pull them apart and stick my finger in...
Find your g spot and massage...
I need to see you squirt... It gives me strength... It gives me energy...
I a sexual vampire.
I who have lived so long because of your elixir.
I sitting here alone in the dark wanting you as so many queens alone sit in their four cornered rooms, wishing for a man.
I want you...
I need you...
I must have you...
Can I?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE TALE OF THE LOST MADONNA AND THE NEW NIGGAS}

{THE TALE OF THE LOST MADONNA AND THE NEW NIGGAS}
THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/6J-vzhr1vzc

We having lost our base find ourselves in these modern times trying to rebuild...
We having forgotten that together we can overcome any obstacle as the black women say they don't need the black man...
The black man saying he does not need the black woman and our children suffer, our diaspora suffers the devastating effects.
So sad that so many of us having fallen victim to miseducation, tricknowledge and church endorsed homosexuality have forgotten these things.
That without you there is no me, without me there is no you and we begin the gradual descent into non-being.
Falsely believing the lie that we originated in slavery and teaching it to the babies from birth...
teaching them that's all their worth.
That our black skin is a mark of shame. that its a curse as we lead them to the hair store and the plastic surgeon.
As we falsely believe that we could be the children of Ham as preached from the white and black Christian pulpit...
We will die of false research and ignorance.
Once you were my Madonna and I found comfort in your embrace,
Once you were my base and I yours, upon it we built great cities, great civilizations.
Now it seems that our lives have taken separate paths that all lead to ruin.
So many of us having been birthed from the holds of slaveships, from the rape of black queens, from the tel-lie-vision.
The pyramids crumbling in air tainted by pollution, we crumbling to dust in air tainted by false rhetoric.
Our base once square has lost it definition.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY