[MAY WE MEET AGAIN] THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO MY COUSIN MILDRED NETTA BUT IT IS ALSO DEDICATED TO MY FAMILY THE MURPHY'S AND THE JOLLY'S...
PLEASE LISTEN TO THE MUSIC...
http://youtu.be/va4aIjwjR8s

May we meet again on the other side...
We my family whom I love so much... May we have no more strife.
May I meet all who made this possible... these our lives.
We been through so much... Seen so many things...
We children of African origin born in the harsh and brutal south...
Red clay roads and cotton fields...
Hogs, goats and cows...
May we meet in a place where all these worldly concerns are no more...
We sitting at the feet of ancestor listening to a knowledge drop of epic proportions.
We who have traveled the earth and left a mark.
May we meet again and never have to cry as we look at the sky and wonder why...
We in the flow where we are continuous... The wind and the rain.
We children of Allah born in these mortal shells...
These castles erected of sun and dust, carbon infused into our structure...
You mean so much to me as my helix and yours spin off and create future life...
We having done our part.
May we meet again and hold hands like we did when we were children.
When it all so fresh and new lay spread before our virgin eyes... We who once saw infinity.
May we meet again on the other side.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[KNOWLEDGE BORN] AN EROTIC EXCURSION
THE SOUND OF YOUNG LOVE AND REBIRTH...
http://youtu.be/UMiFEEAMF9s

And I tasted the melanin in her skin...
I a young man in the heart of the ghetto... She a young queen.
Eyes of brown that spoke to me of the first meeting of Adam and Eve as renamed by a white man.
They the prototypical stripped of their Africanicity... The truth of it all.
I kissed the outer layer of her epidermis and pictures erupted pineal and threatened to shatter the hemispheres of a young brain in the brick dwelling where we lay...
Two lovers entwined in a naked embrace...
She becoming the habitation for my manhood so hard and engorged... I needing her so very badly that the air seemed to thump...
I digging my fingers into her scalp felt the skin and scratched and she responded... Arch her back and took me deeper than I had ever been.
Took me to a place of plenty, a garden of great renown where the fruit grew fragrant and sweet from knowledge trees.
Where the air clean sang a song of the birds and the bees that flittered by, such joyous color that I transported across time felt the concrete and the chaos fall away.
I standing in the presence of the greatness of her creation.
Slack jawed at the beauty of all that she had unlocked in my soul... The pure magnitude.
I covered in sweat dripped as H20 to her skin and it mingled with the aqua of her and shimmered in the dim light... Became a part of the lubrication that eased the reentry...
I falling through space and time saw us as African, as slave, as the current denizens of the projects where we lay in this modern land Babylon...
I tasting of the melanin in her skin...
I reborn.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[BUTT ASS NAKED AND THROWN TO THE WOLVES]

[BUTT ASS NAKED AND THROWN TO THE WOLVES]
THE LION SOUND...
http://youtu.be/3RKGKIxfWrs

Naked and exposed we stand scrutinized by the world...
We still enslaved by what "they" think of us.
By what we think of ourselves and we wear the chains as jewelry...
We wear the clothes handed down to us... They bearing the names of our oppressors.
We wear them proudly and think that they separate us from those who cannot afford them.
We talk about them in whispers in the church pews as they pass by... We walk by them on street corners and hold our noses up in contempt.
Look at them...
We see them as they are shoved beaten and bruised into the back of police cruisers and say that cant happen to me...
My child will never be the one lying in the street...
He or she will never be the one that we march for...
We naked and exposed wrap the blanket of false security around our bodies and tie the blindfold of just-us around our eyes.
The president is black and while he makes war in foreign countries here we are victims of the worst sort of genocide...
We expecting the children of Aryans and KKK members to take a stand for us as they try to distance themselves.
I never had slaves, all the while working you till you die poor and unable to pay for a funeral... Selling you insurance and growing rich off your hard labor...
The sweat of your brow... The skin of your hands... The time that you spend away from your children as they are indoctrinated into the school of new niggas as taught on BET and Empire.
How to make a new nigga as taught by the descendants of Willie Lynch and drawn up on a classroom chalkboard...
A P.H.D. in niggalosophy hanging on the wall...
A white Mercedes and a house in massa's suburbs where you try to distance yourself from your heritage...
Where you run from your true legacy...
Naked and exposed in the concrete jungle we are devoured by the wolves.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{LISTEN TO ME AS I SPEAK UNTO YOU}
THE SOUND OF URGENCY...
http://youtu.be/2VedGI3qzzQ

See... I would support you...
Hold you as we spin on this planet... As we navigate the concourse... As we hurtle through time and space.
I would expose you to the view and give you the keys to the cosmos.
We would be truly free.
You and I...
Me and you, and our children would grow so strong that they would be our infinity...
They conquering the inter-dimensional of their mental's.
They standing at Allahs side in chambers of pineal recognition found at the end of the silver cord...
I would bless you my queen for I know not of jealousy and anger is a controlled nd regulated beast to whose cage I hold the key...
I want to see you regal as I carry you hypothetically on my shoulders... Let you touch the sun radiating on the epidermic layer melanin that covers this structure.
This body of flesh and blood that has been through so very much...
Stabbed, shot at and beat the fuck up...
Still It stood.
A black man born on a planet where I the once enslaved am reviled cause I drops 360 degrees of knowledge...
Cause I recognize you... My queen, My empress...
Cause I speak of black pride and consequences... Cause I speak of urgency.
Cause I love you even when you are labeled bitch, thot and Ho.
See... I would reach my psyche out to thee and stroke the synapses firing in your lobes, ride on the electricity as it sparks forward motion...
Kiss you on the skin behind your earlobes and whisper of rebirth in your ear... Brush the skin of your cheek so gently and look into the liquid depths of your optical orbs...
Reflect off of your retina...
See... I in support of you bring this to light...
I holding you metaphorically, you my prototypical...
My all...
My everything...
We...
Alpha and Omega.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{STOP CRYING MY SISTER... PLEASE STOP CRYING} LAZARUS RISING FROM DEATH

{STOP CRYING MY SISTER... PLEASE STOP CRYING} LAZARUS RISING FROM DEATH
THE TALE OF LAZARUS THAT PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND...
http://youtu.be/ehtJC_cXjA8

I can hear my sister crying... I listen as she tells me the story of her abandonment...
She tells me how the system has violated her and my soul grows hard...
I wanting to go out and rip the arms from it and beat it down with its own parts, welfare and child support... Prison and Ritalin.
I try to tell her how these things that seem to be charity and meant in good will are but tools to drive us into the pits of a man made hell where we are burned in the fires of hating each other, deadbeat dads and welfare queens.
She turns away and I feel her detachment for these things evil have become so dear to her...
She still cries and her tears fall from her face, her shoulders heave.
Her hair straightened by perm, her skin lightened and bleached.
I walking up behind her turn her around and wipe the tears from her cheeks and offer her a tissue...
The truth I know will only make her cry more for it involves a scathing rapport full of leaving the trappings of the beast behind.
It will be hard crossing the desert of finding ourselves.
It will be hard leaving Christmas, Easter and the Fourth of July behind... Holydays wrapped up in bundles of lies, such pretty packages as the coverings glisten in joyous color.
I tell her to tear them away and her breath catch's in her throat as her eyes grow wide, she in her surprise looks away, it so much easier to follow the things taught to her grandmother as a black mans body swung in the breeze as a warning not to make her sons strong...
As she watched her daughters bear mutated children, they born lacking a full dose of melanin.
She taught that slavery was her mans fault looks at me and I can sense the doubt, the hesitation is strong.
She looks around and I can see the children peeking from behind her torn dress, a boy and a girl and I know that I must change her mentality to save them from the psychology that has made her such easy prey.
I take her in my arms and speak to her in a low subsonic tone that resonates in her soul.
My scars tingle and burn.
She cries and her tears stain my soul.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{TWENTY ONE GUNS} EROTIC NUT BUSTA

{TWENTY ONE GUNS}

THE SOUND AS I PAY HONOR TO THINE JUICY...

http://youtu.be/7hxA1DLu7Jk

Can I suck your juicy from the back as it hangs like succulent fruit from a brown bark tree.

Black on your head the leaves as you thrash and moan.

Let me lick my way into the pink heart of you and flick at the tip of your spurtongue.

Push that pussy down and take it from the back with your legs splayed out on the bed.

Some of that lioness presentation type shit... some a dat make that pussy pulse and that make yo belly quiver pure mad warrior beat down...

Send your heart soaring in euphoria type shit.

I want to taste the drops of you... Play in your rains... Scramble your brains.

Give a twenty one gun salute in honor of your punani. Pow... Pow... Pow.

You having the ability to drive me to the edge of insanity, touch me and pull me back. 

I pulling out and kissing that pussy cause its so good that I want it to know how I feel...

Come here pussy as I stroke it and give it a name...

Plant a flag and tend its crops.

Go to war if anyone threatens its territories... Guerilla in the mist as I spray bullets and chop off heads...

A twenty one gun salute... A splack... A splack... A splack.

Listen to it all squishy as it farts and pulses... I swear that pussy be snapping.

Throw that thang to Big Daddy baby... Put a arch in that back.

I slapping them ass cheeks like the skin on an African drum.

That juicy got me all in the depths of space where we fall from in flaming freefall to the surface of the earth...

You the wet drops pon me as I buss twenty one gun salute in your honor and come to rest...

That juicy...

That juicy...

That juicy.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{PHAT CAT SOLILOQUY}
THE MUSIC FOR THIS WILD RIDE THROUGH THE URBAN JUNGLE WHENCE WE ROAM...
http://youtu.be/1qx2rxjTIvI

Tell me baby... How yo cat get so phat?
Did you rub it till it puffed up like that?
Play with your clit till it poked out and grew hard, sprayed out and soaked your panties pulled to the side.
Was it because someone licked it and sucked it as you moaned and thrashed back and forth, did he make it swollen and puffy?
Damn... I wanna know how your pussy got so damned phat.
Was it caused by the incredible pressure exerted when somebody beat down in it, when you on bended knees felt the head of a man push in and find its way to the back of your womb?
Tell me... I promise I won't be jealous, if I see him I might thank him for this most beautiful gift.
This phat punani as it dangles between your legs... Your phat juicy pussy meat.
I all phucked up in the glorious heights of this most beautiful view.
 I so wanting to throw you down and take you roughly... Lick it and slurp it... Suck it and pull it with my lips.
Slap it with the heavy head of my thick dick as it cums splattering drops and running down your taint into the crevice of your ass cheeks...
Talk dirty to that pussy...
Spank that pussy...
Slow grind that pussy all the way to the back walls...
Lay in that pussy till I fall asleep in it...
Wake up and fuck it on my way out the door...
Make it throb every time you sit down.
Make it my pussy cause it satisfies my hunger like no other can... All that pretty pink and brown flower with such delicate petals.
Make you feel every inch of me... The pure and unadulterated depth of me as I sink into your salty seas.
As I pull out and drive in... Rub that clit with the head and make you scream... "Damn Big Daddy, What You Doin to Me"
Be the Lion that manipulates the Lioness and brings her forth roaring from the bottom of your lungs.
Let me play with yo phat cat.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY