{THE HARSHEST REALITY}

{THE HARSHEST REALITY}
THE SOUND OF OUR REBIRTH...
https://youtu.be/KGs4Jc4EXpg

We who came from the ghetto's of Babylon...
Who who are the forgotten...
The sun dawns bright pon our heads...
Shining... Shining.
Brothers we should have been...
So many of us having been Willie Lynched...
We have learned to hate...
Such an ugly thing as we see those of other races pass us by...
Unified they are...
Mothers left to fight a world alone...
Projects and programs designed to leave us behind...
A global crime committed and the children suffer...
Victims of propaganda and false illusions of belonging...
The sun shines bright on the disparity...
The utter reality...
We who are the children of Allah...
We having been whitewashed and finding comfort in a white god...
Such an ugly situation as another cop is exonerated...
Flip the t.v. back to reality...
Another black child dead...
Another indoctrinated housewife... Another nigga who done made it...
Such a beautifully painted lie...
A tragic tapestry hanging on the walls of our souls...
Vivid colors that run blood red...
The color of life that flows in our veins...
Stains the killing floor...
We who are the children of God cast into the pits of Babylon...
So many lies to overcome,..
We reborn...
We who came from the proverbial ghetto cry these words.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(HE LIVED...HE FELL..)
THE MUSIC...
https://youtu.be/aWIE0PX1uXk

He fell and the world that had once held him up failed to catch him.
He fell and the liquid in the bottle only served to sage his beast when he imbibed, the drugs only when he soared on their their clouds of euphoria.
He fell from the blue skies and the light of the sun shined on his skin as he approached rock bottom.
A streaking meteor had he become, his fiery Impact shattered dreams.
Such a sad melody as choir sang and orchestra played.
He once conductor now the plaintive strains of a heart wrenching tale told  on a low lit stage.
His fathers words echoing in his ears.
He fell stabbed by the knife and pierced by the bullet.
He became the words in an obituary as tears were weeped in honor of his demise.
Dearly departed and all that.
Once a mighty tree his seed all he had left behind.
Baby green sprigs growing from the ashes of his life.
Once he had been a promising star shining in the heavens.
Today he lay cold and hard, a lesson to those who would listen.
A warning to those who would not.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE GODS OF GREYHOUND HATE ME) LAWD PLEASE MAKE MEGABUS A BETTER PLACE.
THE SOUNDTRACK...

I am about to catch Megabus tomorrow.
Now it's my first time catching one but back in the day I used to catch Trailways until it shut down and I didn't catch another bus until1983.
By then it was Greyhound and nothing else in the south.
Now my history with Greyhound is s rather colorful one.
The Greyhound bus gods hate me.
The first time I caught Greyhound the driver threatened to kick me off in the middle of nowhere.
Palmettos, pine trees and nothing else, the last thing I had looked up and seen was a prison.
The bus just pulled to the side of the road and this big ass redneck was in my face talking bout he was gonna call the Sheriff.
My crime you ask?
Loud headphones.
It was the advent of personal cassette players.
I was playing Afrika Bambaata at the time.
After accessing my situation I turned my headphones down.
I was on my way to my first physical for the army.
It went downhill from there excluding the two times I had sex on the Greyhound, I guess you just gotta have high points sometimes in the midst of turmoil.
My misfortunes include the time I was at a Greyhound station in Tallahassee Fl and was catching a bus to Atlanta and met this cool ass dude from Miami.
Dude was clean in a Miami pImp kinda way.
I met him and we talked for awhile and he said he wanted to smoke some weed and I said I had some so we walked over to a concrete wall about a half a block away from the station and he started to tell me his story.
How he had met a woman and came to Tallahassee to be with her but he was tired of her shit.
I sympathized with his story cause it was some good ass weed and we went back into the bus station.
Back then they had them lil bitty TVs on chairs and they would line them up in tight rows and I always would always go to the very back corner and feed the tv quarters and watch the news and shit.
Dude sat next to me and we continued talking.
Good weed and shit.
All of a sudden it got dark like a cloud had passed in front of the sun and I heard a deep voice say. "Where you thank you goin motherfucker?"
I looked up and saw the biggest woman I had ever seen in my life.
She had on a mumu and she musta weighed 640 pounds.
At this moment dude chose to say the worst shit he could said given the circumstances.
He said "I'm tired of yo shit bitch.
All I saw was this big woman reach into her bosom which coulda held a whole army of midget warriors.
She pulled out something far worse
What she pulled out was a straight razor.
It was a this point I started screaming like a bitch.
Out of every weapon known to man the straight razor is the one I fear the most since I saw the movie The Revenge of J.D. Walker back in the days.
The only thing that saved us was the fact that that big ass woman couldn't squeeze through the chairs which were bolted to the floor.
She was yelling bout dude had stole her money and food stamps and he was talking shit back to her and I was still screaming like a bitch.
I finally caught hold of the rail but dude was backed up against me and I couldn't pull myself out.
I looked back and saw a security dude grab the big woman but she slung him off like he was a fly.
I was thinking "Oh lawd I'm bout to die in a Greyhound bus station. I knew this was where it was gonna happen."
All of a sudden 4 police and bout 3 security guards wrestled her big ass to the ground and led her away and took dude to the office to talk to him.
I shook all their hands and one of them said that they needed to talk to me.
It was at this moment my bus pulled up.
I kindly told him no and damn near ran over everybody trying to get on the bus.
I knew bout Greyhound leaving your ass since they had tried to leave me in South Carolina once.
I was buying fried chicken at the time.
I told you all this cause I sure hope Megabus and me dont have as colorful history as the one I have had with Greyhound.
I'm to old for that shit.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(CHOCOLATE DROP SEXUALLY EXPLICIT SEE)

(CHOCOLATE DROP SEXUALLY EXPLICIT SEE)
THE SOUND...
Cum be my chocolate drop. Drip a lil drop pon me.
My journey to the heavens as I suspended linger in the folds of thine flesh.
Mmmm.
Cum ride me away to the land of orgasmic bliss.
Butterflies and cum soaked as we fluttering and roaring find the most secret places.
My tongue oh my tongue...
Damn.
Cum spread before I, such a delicately intricate and explicit vision.
Slay me in your sweetness
Drip your juice.
My tongue oh my tongue...
Damn.
Cum wrapped round my pole.
Spinning down.
Tassles and  g strings... phat mound jutting out.
Pull them panties to the side and display thine flower.
Mmmm.
Cum screaming and squirting, spurting and sputtering, scating and stuttering.
Such music to mine ears, thy song thy song.
A moment as I stirring rise.
Such a heavy head.
Cum my dear...
Drop your chocolate pon I...
Mmmm.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SCATTER MY DEAD BONES ON LOVE'S DOORSTEP)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/Zm3y65XLvso

Love, I ain't got no more tolerance for pain, my heart can't bear anymore.
My hemispheres have been rent asunder and my equator has been bent into a jagged misrepresentation of itself.
I might as well be a barren world orbiting a cold sun.
Once I as child knew you in mine mothers eyes... in the tones of mine fathers voice.
I thought you would shield me forever.
When did you begin to hate me love?
When did you begin to teach me to become so cynical?
I who fear no man fear you for you carry the sharpest sword... the biggest gun.
So many laid to rest because of you.
Broken and torn I walk this planet alone.
A figure cloaked and hooded as the wind howls and my threads become unraveled.
I disappearing in the distance ignominy.
Love the gallows where crows caw and flies buzz, picking the flesh from mine very bones.
People walking by I the warning, dangling  and swinging.
Such a tortured existence that at times I have prayed for death to come.
Hold my hand and lead me away.
I man alone on a world of so many souls.
Each heartbeat a reminder that I still live.
Why love...
Why?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(AUTOTUNE BULLSHIT)
THE SOUND OF PROGRESSION...

What is life???
Man on the outside looking in...
Dirty windows and shit, people gaily passing by on the way to inclusion...
A false sense of being in a world where they already exist...
The futility of being a non being...
A cog in a system... spinning in place and being ground down.
Dirty ass window and a faceless child, lost in the crowd assimilation...
Tears running down dirty glass... fingerprints in the dust... The days wasting away as potential thwarted drifts in the sun as flecks... Shimmering and sparkling and falling between fingertips...
Life...
Hmph...
Commercialized, systemized, synthesized and pumped over the internet... fed to the masses enhanced chemically at the neighborhood market...
40 Ounces a Pom Pom Molly and some auto enhanced philosophy...
Life...
Man looking in the dirty windows wonders why.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FROM THE FORGE TO THE FIRE)
THE BEAT... YOU BETTA LISTEN...
https://youtu.be/NWj0DyfIj5U

Could you be an angel?
A theoretical being carved from the seam... Ripped from the makings of another cosmos.
I mean could it be that you exist at the edges of my peripherals...  Where I see you fleetingly?
A slice of divinity... A flash of serinity... I digress rather deeply.
Could you be the one to touch me and raise me from my death?
A child of segregation, slavery and mental drudgery as fed to the masses of we as information... Such things got me in a quandary as I navigate the pages of all this deception.
Where once our ancestors walked with thee in gardens of splendor and blew sonic trumpets we now live denying our identity.
And you angel make me peruse pon these things as I sit surrounded brick and concrete... Inhaling auto fumes... Watching feet hit black asphalt on the way to serve the beast...  Angel speak to me.
Sing me the ancient tomes that rang the alarms of The Book and the Quran and raised dry bones... Built them anew with vicera and sinew... Clouds of smoke and fire as they grew.
On Angel could you make me well rounded... 360 degrees and built on solid foundation... Able to weather the storm...
I once heard a story that you were created of fire... The light...
That you were the spark that would ignite whole nations...
Could you be that Angel?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY