(MAGUEDA AND THE POET MUSED) HIGHLY EROTIC... DEDICATED TO MAGUEDA JACKSON...
THE SOUND... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN... THIS SONG IS FOR YOU MAGUEDA...
http://youtu.be/y12PlyjCXGA

She my island queen makes me wanna turn her around, bend her over and plant my tree in her bushy.
I want to make her sing...
Reggae tones as I strive to take her higher.
To go deeper than any man before.
Fibbrilate her heart and awaken her soul.
She my fertile island in the middle of salty seas.
I drinking of the fresh water flowing from her springs.
Finding comfort in her cave.
So dark so warm and I stroke slow and long.
I seeking to plant my seed in her soil and watch the forest grow.
Small trees that drop seed and become more.
Her hair the crown as I play with it, pull it and scratch the ground, her scalp.
She my muse and I high on her inspiration plunder the booty of her treasure room.
Lay in the canopied bed of her bedouir and sink into her folds.
So soft and thick.
Bathed in moon shine.
I drunk on her melanin content.
A black and grey bearded pirate who sails cosmic seas where suns and planets are the ports of my destination.
I ponder the wonder of this African island queen.
Her ability to rip this scroll from my souls hold.
The power of her muse.
I sip of my coffee and she swirls black and strong.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(MOUNT LOVE)
THE SOUND...

If love is a mountain I am the mangled mass lying at its base...
Not suicide for that would go against who I am.
I was pushed by a cruel wind that filled my clothes, lifted me and sent me falling.
It was not the fall that killed me either.
The fall while hard was rather a pleasant ride.
I not knowing what was happening thought it was just a part of the trip.
SPLAT!
I hit the ground godawful hard.
The pain... oh the paiinnnn.
I lying shattered on the ground with rocks pressing into my skin.
My mind unable to function because of the paiiinnn.
My brain... my aching brain.
I slipping into the embrace of darkness where in my cave of solitude I try to reconstruct my pieces.
To set the broken bones and stitch the torn skin of mine emotions.
They lie.
They minimize the hurt of this...
I on bended knee.
My mind, my mind.
Gots ta get it right.
I must be strong for the mountain love looms in my sight.
In the morning I'm gonna climb it again.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE ROMPASTOMPA , A BEAST AND A BLACK MAN) PURE PRIMAL LUST

(THE ROMPASTOMPA , A BEAST AND A BLACK MAN) PURE PRIMAL LUST
THE SOUND OF THE ROMPASTOMPA'S SAVAGE LUST... SO MUCH PRESSURE...
http://youtu.be/NiMGOUP5Zrc
I could see it in her eyes...
She wanted the Rompastompa and I hesitantly released him from his cage.
He pushed me to the side and I could feel his raw sexuality as he took over.
My eyes his and his eyes mine.
His lust so strong that shevupon seeing it gasped.
The Rompastompa heard her intake of air and reached out his hand... My hand?
He touched her soft flesh.
He placed his hand on her breast, on her chest and we felt her quickly beating heart.
Saw the way she bit her lip and that set the Rompastompa off.
He took her nipple into his mouth... My mouth?
He sucked it till it grew hard while he played with the other one.
Took his other hand... My other hand?
Trust it between her legs and rubbed our fingers through her pubic hair and it found her slit.
So warm... So wet.
She moaned and the Rompastompa placed his hand behind her head and she took his hardened phallus into her mouth and the Rompastompa sighed... I sighed?
Damn it felt so good but the Rompastompa being well versed in the art of cunninligilus stopped her before it went to far and pushed her back.
Kissed her inner thighs and licked his way to her pink pretty and explored it with his tongue.
He able to see with its tip.
Oh how she squirmed and I felt the primal need of the Rompastompa as he turned her around and drove our manhood in.
Scratched the skin of her buttocks...
Pulled her hair...
I the Rompastompa and the Rompastompa me as her flesh quaked and shook.
As she screaming release begged him to give her more.
The Rompastompa glad to oblige flipped her over and spread her wide.
Played with her and spanked itvwith the drooling head of his prodigious appendage.
Pushed it in... Ground it in and pumped blood into it.
Made it pulse in her womb.
She wet on his... My belly?
She dripping fluid that left splatters as he beat down.
The Rompastompa... The beast and she screamed multiple in her orgasms.
The little death overtaking her and he resuscitating her.
She now belonging to he if only for a short time.
The Rompastompa a realist making me realize these things...
She screaming loyalty...
That her pussy was his... Was mine.
I felt the Rompastompa's orgasm as it built and grew.
Surging through my belly and my thighs.
So strong that our eyes, they fluttered.
It cumming in spasms and the Rompastompa relieved returned to his cell as I weak fell from her body and listened as she shuddering still lay on her side gave a contented sigh and fell asleep.
The Rompastompa and I lost in the beauty of raw aftersex smiled and closed our eyes.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I BEARING WITNESS TESTIFY)
THE POUNDING SOUND...
http://youtu.be/SnrXYH4XOxM

And unto we power was bestowed...
We made whole.
Our spirit was the sun and in its light we grew strong.
We having such power at times did not recognize it.
It having always been there.
We who were born from the earth and the water.
We assumed that all was fine and that all those born of us were like us
Then came the cannons and the crosses...
Then came white Jesus and Manifest destiny.
Whole nations were wiped out and the knowledge of we was stolen and adapted to make us believe that we the prototypical were meant to be slaves.
Black preachers were taught to make sure to mention the curse of Ham.
To talk of a white heaven where finally under the white god we would finally be free.
Come my children... Gather round.
The day starting with darkness... The night and the cosmos as well and man ignores the obvious signs and cornerstones.
The clarity as the trumpet blasts and the seals open... The beast revealed as he ignores the blood he stands in.
Calls himself a hero as he lines up victims in his sights.
Picks his teeth to get rid of the flesh he eats.
His whore standing in a harbor... She spoken of in revelations and prophesies revealed are ignored.
Plagues and pestilence.
Man and man... Woman and woman and the earth moans in pain.
She bearing witness to the rape and genocide of minds, bodies and souls.
The horror... The horror.
Such potential and it flaunted as rap and religious ideal rips we apart.
Two schools given over to the white side as opposed to the dark from which our mold was ripped.
Analogies and figurative forms of speech falling parable.
Once power was bestowed to we.
Find the key...
Find the key.
We
Need
To
Find
The
Key.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(OF  BUTTERFLY AND SKIN) HAIKU JITSU SENRY

(ALLUSIONARY)
Flutter butterfly
Your wings delicate and wet.
My manhood erect

(ENVISIONARY)
We become nature
Pounding waves cumming ashore
Sinking into sand

(COMPLETLY)
Pulses beat as one
Moans become song vibrating
The air bears witness

(FREE)
Drops on your skin shine
Liquid releases of we
We become the free

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

They the blind would tear you down...
Crumble the bricks of your house and turn them to particles of sand on a desert floor...
Blowing in a stinging wind.
They mislead would forsake you the mother...
They would violate you my queen...
Lay you out naked and rape your memory again and again until you are left a ravaged mess.
They never having realised the imminent arrival of I and I.
I dancing around the fire, my shadow bouncing off planets in the utter depths of space.
My voice proclaiming your royalty to all who would hear these tomes.
I but a blip in the annals of time.
An unfamous man on a world where my brothers they have forgotten...
They suffering short term memory loss and the horrifying legacy of being made into walking shells.
Shadows in a darkened room where the light never penetrates.
They only seeing in black, white and grey as you vibrantly shine thick and chocolate.
As you reflect the deepest black imaginable.
As the red tones in your skin allude to the fact that you have the potential to build...
To destroy.
To rebuild again on the dirt covered remnants of a past civilization that was built on the shifting foundation of miseducation...
An even older civilization.
They having lost the gift sight wander in obvious confusion and the people suffer generationally.
They don't realise that all they and you have to do to Ind happyness is embrace the darkness of your skin and the nappyness of your hair.
The broadness of your nose and the wideness of your hips.
Then and only then will we be able to move forward.
If only they would remove the scales from their eyes and the foolhardyness from their hearts, cast aside the whitewash and embrace the true black.
If only they would see you as I do.

(THE SONG OF JERALD. CHAPTER ONE.)
THE SOUND... YOU NEEDS TO LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/H6Z2L4K1CwU

1.Wouldest thou overstand if I a man promised thee the stars...
I wonder.
2.Wouldest thou be willing to dash the petty words and phrases that thou hast been taught against the concrete walls of the city that hast thou imprisoned.
3.That place where in a dream state thou exist.
4.Looking for a prince amongst men who have no idea what true love entails.
5.True Kings fight for their nation, not against it.
6.True Kings dont cower behind thug ambitions and false bravado.
7.True Kings do not fear retribution for speaking truth.
8.They lay their lives on the line for freedom.
For justice.
9.True kings stand staunch behind their queens
10.Perhaps thou would recognize a true king even if he did not bear the petty gifts colored the blood red of so many of our ancestors.
11.Wouldest thou be willing to hold a mans hand as he confronted the many demons that plague us.
12.Our firstborn lying prone in the streets felled by the system that our people have come to embrace.
13.False freedom of speech and all that nonsence about jurisprudence.
14.A savior that told you to obey your masters and leaders that tell you to be patient and then you die.
15.Your children doomed to follow folly as displayed in a shoe store window...
In a magazine.
16.Wouldest thou overstand the tears that fall from a mans optics and stain the shirt he wears...
Victim of being misunderstood and villanized...
17.His crime...
Love for truth and right.
He looking for light.
18.He finding that the darkness grows stronger with each passing day as the flames are extinguished...
19.The small trees are felled and made into furniture that adorn the palaces of the rich and famous.
20.Metaphores and flights of whimsy that flutter through his mind like a trillion bees...
21.Honey and manna the food that feeds him in the desert of unknowing where knowledge buried beneath the sands of time wait to be unearthed.
Put on display and exibited to the masses.
22.Wouldest thou be willing to leave the trappings of Babylon if I a man could promise you a life of love where you natural is my hearts desire.
No contacts, false hair or pretenses.
23.I a man ponder these things...
Alone and oh so sad.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY