{ALPHABETICAL SUPREMACY}

{ALPHABETICAL SUPREMACY}
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/iP8FBKd3rIc

The first time I encountered the alphabet I breathed it in deep and formed word, thought and manifested matter.
As the characters revolved around my dome and caused thunderstorms in my synapses I stood physical and began to read.
The roar of my voice preached recognition of things that had occurred in ancient times and I knew...
Of these things I knew.
My ancestors speaking from yellowed pages told me of my greatness and my folly...
Of our enslavement and I expanding became the threat...
A living, thinking cognizant being.
My thoughts my own for the word in me was strong...
Jerald the force.
I the arrow in flight a second before it shatters the eagles heart.
Before he tangled and bloodied feathers streaks to the ground and lies still and silent.
My metaphors ringing true.
The letters turned to corpuscles of blood which race through my veins and beat my throbbing heart...
Feed my brain and fuel my pineal.
I the sound of sweet music softly played by orchestra...
The drop of bass in a car trunk.
The patter of rain and the roar of the ocean in a category 5 hurricane...
The still rock and the crashing boulder tearing down trees as it falls down the mountainside.
I am these letters, this alphabet and in that form shall I live forever.
The story waiting to be read.
I am the great I am spoken of in hushed tones as my people cringed in fear...
Masked riders taking their lives.
A cross burning on a hillside.
The system looking the other way as sociopath's granted other sociopath's their way....
Killing, raping and destroying in the name of manifest destiny.
In these words I am power.
In these words I am life.
In these words...
I express my undefeatability.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{AFRICAN DILEMMA} A HYPER SENRYU JITSU Dedicated to Donetta Rhodes

{AFRICAN DILEMMA} A HYPER SENRYU JITSU Dedicated to Donetta Rhodes
THE SOUND AS IT IS MANIFESTS...
https://youtu.be/YtrouhSprzA

{THE DROP}
The spring calls her name
She whispers in the leaves song
Man sways to her beat

{OF POWER}
Lion his aura
Golden sonic's emitted
Bass makes sand dance

{GROWING}
They entwined are life
Seeds, trees, rootical are they
They outstretched grow strong

{SOLID}
The wind raging blows
The are impenetrable
Allah created, they

{THEY ARE REBORN}
The day dawns and they
They emerge reborn anew
Black and powerful

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(MELISCIZOID)
THE SOUND... THIS SONG I'D DEDICATED TO YOU EMPRESS...
https://youtu.be/DgnqtLyoa1o

In you my flip is profound as I bring all my sides to bear.
Bring the manifestations of I to life on city streets where people pass by unawares that I for you would bring this shit to a grinding halt.
Tear this shit apart and rebuild it again.
Listening to the gunshots as they staccato are released... As they whine past my head.
Such a beautiful song as they richochet off brick, steel and concrete.
In war at times there is found such peace.
I unafraid for I man alive had to die to get this way.
Buried alive in an educational casket where the air was limited.
The artist drew patterns on the walls as the warrior plotted and the beast clawed to dig us out.
The lover taught us to appreciate beauty as he talked to you so ripe and firm.
The visionary he dreamed of a better world .
Sometimes he cried at the brutal reality.
So many of his people wouldn't see.
The dancer taught the warrior the steps that would save him when they came four deep, the steps that would slow time down to million frames per second where he would find the time to let the lover compose such lovely poetry, a second before time sped up and he punched a bitch in his right eye.
Kicked him in the side of the head as he found his body falling to the ground.
The scholar having tried to rationalize and having failed.
The warrior so close.
The beast even closer.
The cage so flimsy.
The bars rattling as the manipulator paced and learned legalese as spoken judge and attorney.
The imam facing the east calling the adhan in ancient Arabic.
Jihad in Babylon as the days went on out in the dunya.
The father worrying about his babies at night as a man lost his manhood three cells down.
Screaming and crying in the night.
His battyhole having become a sodomites paradise.
The lion paced and the dragon spit Fyah for you before the lonely one ever heard your voice.
Before the warrior and the lover composed scroll dedicated to the memory of we.
In you my dear my flIp is profound as all the denizens of my cities are brought to bear.
As my nation's have aligned and forged vast armies ready to wage war against those who would trod us down.
In you my dear...
In
You
My
Dear.
I wandering am found.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE DEEPEST THING I KNOW}

{THE DEEPEST THING I KNOW}
THE SOUND AS I ORCHESTRATE THROUGH THESE BRICKS AND CONCRETE...
https://youtu.be/TQNw4n6fvII



You my beat down drop into the lowest of the lows...
You make it tremble the earth...
You make it vibrate the skies.
You make my sonics so strong that they put dread into evil hearts...
You make them have the resonance of the trumpets that played outside Jericho's walls.
They crumbling to the very ground.
You make my hard so hard that it like diamond could cut through anything...
You make it bring you to your knees.
A blissful smile on your face.
I... I wil build you up and never tear you down for you have been torn before.
Ripped to shreds and lain on the killing floor.
Sons, daughters, husbands and wives.
Us in Babylon where the story ain't quite finished and we are in a retro phase.
Worshiping and praising those who have made so many slaves.
I told you, I will go straight Black Panther for you.
Be Nat Turner for you.
Live my life for you and die for you.
I warrior would be soft for you... Speak of love to you.
Make love to you and praise your attributes...
Spread you out as a mural on the walls of so many minds.
Painted in alphabetic's.
Vivid splashes of you as you come to life.
You are my bass and my treble... My melodies and symphonies.
You empress are the music of my life sang as stringently as possible, played by philharmonic orchestra.
Beat out on African drums.
I... I am your accompaniment.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(ART? THAT AIN'T ART. THAT'S BULLSHIT) A RANT AND A HALF

(ART? THAT AIN'T ART. THAT'S BULLSHIT) A RANT AND A HALF
DON'T NEED NO MUSIC... THIS PIECE MAKES IT OWN...

Just cause you write it don't make it good poetry or a great story.
Just cause some poor misguided soul comments on it don't make it worthwhile.
See the sad fact of the matter is what you write is the same worthless drivel that you see on t.v. and in the movies.
It's made for people who have no true vision.
They need others to tell them how and what to think.
They wouldn't know originality if it bit em dead in the center of their asscrack or dropped from a plane at ten thousand feet.
In the past artists worked to go beyond.... To make people see beyond.
That was the mark of a true artist.
Most of the time he was not appreciated by the masses cause what he said and did pointed out how futile their way of thinking and living was.
He was reviled and persecuted... Hated and ignored by the system and the people around him because of his or her originality.
He was considered crazy... eccentric even.
Check the history if you don't believe me.
In this day and time though the artist strives to be like Drake, to be like Tyler Perry, to be like Zane or whoever is popular at the moment.
That's not artistry, in fact it's bullshit that should be ignored but the masses have become so accustomed to bullshit that they eat it by the platefull.
Stank breath motherfuckers.
In the past artists stood for something... Their people... an ideal.
Now they sell their people out like Steve  (I don't give a Damn bout slavery) Harvey, and Terrence (Lets say nigga on primetime) Howard.
My grandmother Allah bless her soul would have made me turn off the t.v. in these new niggas.
My father would have made me put down their books.
I have grown tired of watching black people take a downward spiral when it comes to art.
David the statue is considered art and you can post a picture of him waving his little white penis on Facebook with no problem.
Post a black statue that way and a black person will report you and you will be blocked and black people will cheer.
That's how brainwashed you are.
Did I say brainwashed?
I meant whitewashed.
So sad that all I see is a bunch of dumb ass niggas doing what massa wants.
Thinking like massa wants them to think.
So sad that you niggas can't see it yourselves.
People are still being beaten and arrested in Ferguson and dying at the hands of the police and all you care about is Scandal and Empire.
About what some Star is wearing or the worthless cause he or she is supporting.
So sad that you can post about bitches and hoes, and misuse the acronym Thot when next week it could be your Father, mother, brother, sister, son or daughter lying on the sidewalk covered in a white sheet.
Go on... Write that bullshit, read that bullshit, listen to that bullshit you genocide maniac.
Me.
I will continue to promote art.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(MAN THIRSTY AND NEEDING DRINK)
THE SOUND OF MAN AS THE NEED BEATS DOWN.
I desire to sip of your pussy juice.
To savor it as it explodes across my taste buds, as it hits the back of my throat.
I rubbing it between my fingers to test its viscosity.
As I swish it around in my mouth... Such beautiful accents.
Berries and sun ripened fruit.
Chocolate and Serengeti...
I lion lap at the banks of your river flowing down your thighs and staining the sheets.
You the lioness presenting succulently.
I take you from the back as you arch and meet me thrust for thrust.
I biting, pulling and scratching.
You moaning my name, driving I to the verge of insanity where my nut beats at mine temples.
Makes me scream your name as it surges through my tubes.
Where it mixes with my essentials and squirts hot and thick from my fourth eye.
My seed and your cream mixing in your womb.
Such a potent blend.
Baby let me get a sip of your pussy juice.
It makes me cum so strong.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

I desire to sip of your pussy juice.
To savor it as it explodes across my taste buds as it hits the back of my throat.
I rubbing it between my fingers to test its viscosity.
As I swish it around in my mokuth... Such beautiful accents.
Berries and sun ripened fruit.
Chocolate and Serengeti...
I lion lap at the banks of your river flowing down your thighs and staining the sheets.
You the lioness presenting succulently.
I take you from the back as you arch and meet me thrust for thrust.
I biting, pulling and scratching.
You moaning my name, driving I to the verge of insanity where my nut beats at mine temples.
Makes me scream your name as it surges through my tubes.
Where it mixes with my essentials and squirts hot and thick from my fourth eye.
My seed and your cream mixing in your womb.
Such a potent blend. 
Baby let me get a sip of your pu