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Monday, November 2, 2015

(GENESIS AND REVELATIONS) Inspired by Linda Jones
THE SOUND THAT ACCOMPANIES THESE WORDS...
https://youtu.be/nHfUULI_6UM

She... And I in amazement.
Her smile radiant... Oh earth light up my day.
She... My heart flutters.
Her words permeate my very being.
Her voice echoes in my deepest chambers.
She... I in awe stand.
Her form is that of one born African queen.
We formed of projects brick dust.
Royalty standing in the midst of chaos.
She... Mmmm.
The gentle brush of the painter.
The caressing hands of the sculptor.
Scientifically and mathematically impossible yet she is here.
We bound gravitational.
She... I in rotation.
Revolutions and revelations signs and cornerstones.
Living testimonials born of the first son and woman.
Trees standing stoic in the garden.
Metaphorical and metaphysical, living breathing proof of hue~man existence.
So biophysical.
She... And I.
I would smite the words uttered against her.
Cast them into utter oblivion.
Rip them into shreds flapping in the bitter winds of rebirth.
We regenerated and refreshed emerging from the storm.
Children of the most high.
Living and breathing replication formed in the image of the I am.
She... She and I.
We are.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Thursday, October 29, 2015

{THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED}


{THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED}
THE MUSIC THAT ACCOMPANIES THIS SCRIBE...
https://youtu.be/rakz5f18N_Q

A look at you and I am as a gelatinous mass... I who would conform to your form.
Some African Tai Chi, Rendered Yin and Yang type a thang.
So easily the flow... Such a sensual ballet.
Our words as softly pattering rain bringing magnificent life.
A moment as I breathe of your soul, so refreshing the smell.
Fresh and aromatic.
Your skin is the catalyst of my funkiest dreams as we pivot and gracefully dip.
Dancers suspended as the bass bumps and the melody flows so sweet.
A fall through the clouds could not be this exhilarating... No mountain stream could be as rejuvenating.
I can feel you in the honeycombs of my bones.
The very marrow of who I am as I inhabit this planet of my physical birth... Harbinger of my spirituality.
Our voices soft talk of remembered things, so like leaves blowing in a fall breeze, whispering and shushing... 
So lulling.
We talk of tremendous things... Such weight and we carry it so light.
We who have become Kings and Queens born of such dark roads.
Eons lived or so it would seem... such great change.
A look and you so afrocentric call me home to the motherland that we were born of.
The roots and the spirals of the universe that abound in your locks...
I hesitate for to reach out and touch may cause you to evaporate.
A wisp... A sigh... A long and lingering look.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 


Tuesday, October 27, 2015

{FIBEROPTICAL}
THE SOUND AS I EXPLAIN...
https://youtu.be/igo8JUddtxM

I see you across the diaspora and my blood begins to beat... Africa... Africa.
Bass so profound that I am swayed in my knees... My warrior dance is magnificent.
One look and I am dragged through the whole of his-story, you queen and my seed the prototypical.
We in great cities where we built pyramids dedicated to the stars we had come from... dedicated to the all of our existence.
We in villages where there was no one for the whole was all we were.
My third eye tingles and I see through the layers of deceit, the degrees and the decrees.
G's, Squares and all the levels.
Psychological chains made of the flesh of our ancestors as we built new countries on stolen land... We so disconnected that we can't see the we of who we be.
Contact lenses and false equality... Equal to the beast makes we beastial as we kill each other indiscriminately in these mean city streets.
The silver cord that connects my physical to my submentality shudders with the mass of information that I receive upon recognition of you metaphysically.
When I see the sociological and psychic ramifications of I dying time and time again.
The whip, The tree, The chains... Sharks follow slaveships and eat of human debris.
My child cut from your womb so viciously.
You praying that he will not be man.
Please Jesus let this not be a boy.
My optics take you in and my neurons and synapses process you immediately for I knew of you before my amniotic suspension... Before I seed and egg became a rapidly expanding mass of cells.
We the children of the cosmos born of thermonuclear fission... Ashes, dust and water.
We the reaction and the result.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Monday, October 26, 2015

[LIL BITTY]


[LIL BITTY]
THE SOUND AS THE BEAST A ROMPA STOMPA...
https://youtu.be/hOl6Edzd9CE

Be my little bitty...
Such a treat you are with your little bitty body...
So small that I could just pick you up and set you down on my pole so rigidly exposed...
Butt naked and tiny...
Had a midget a few times... Mmmmm.
So small and succulent.
Your pussy print so phat in spandex.
I beat against the fabric of my slacks... One lick and I would consume you in the fires of the beast...
Smoldering and sweaty.
Lil bitty panties and that pert lil ass...
Raging the inferno...
This anticipation as I see the prey which would sate my appetite, fill me to satisfaction as I fill you.
I who would hang on the particular tones of your orgasmic moans and the symphony of your cumming screams.
An orchestra dedicated to the way I minister unto thee.
A flip and I beating from the back...
Pulling your hair and scratching your flesh...
Put a hump in yo back lil bitty thang... I pushing.. Pushing to the very core...
Besieging the walls of your castle for still in coitus you remain queen...
The beast is if nothing else eloquently blessed... Hard and heavy...
Such are the things you cause I to see...
Such a lil bitty...
Mmmmm.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{SCHIZOPHRENICALLY}


{SCHIZOPHRENICALLY}
THE SOUND AS LOVE IS BROKEN DOWN...
https://youtu.be/J8F2jw5YbSQ

What is real?
Is it when you say you love me?
Is it when I say I love you?
We trying to fathom the depths of this word as we encounter life in this world.
As death occurs and leaves some on bended knee wailing to Allah.
The pure unmitigated power as the sun rises and sets on the panorama that fills our eyes.
Love, and so many would kill for it, even a facsimile... The smallest iota... A mustard seed.
Love, and it causes the heart to beat a little faster... Anticipation... flutters in stomachs... Butterflies.
What is real?
Love?
The quest?
The force of impact as it hits home, lying in bed in fetal positions torn inside, wishing it would go away.
Smiling cause it feels so good, perfume lingering in a mans clothes...
Remembrances of soft full lips and trickling kisses.
Obliterated in the explosion as a mans mind tries to grasp the concept, the how, the what and the why.
Logic.
What is that?
Love has no bounds, no reason nor rhyme, Not R+B, Hip Hop or even some sad ass country...
If he were a person we would avoid his schizophrenic ass... raging wino standing on the corner.
Love...
Will I see you again?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Saturday, October 24, 2015

{THE ALL OF IT


 {THE ALL OF IT}
THE SOUND OF THIS REALITY...
 https://youtu.be/cJ7O87cbOLc

A reach into the all and I try to brang... brang dat thang... Reach into the very logistics of it and explain...
Fucking brain drain of the masses and I... Whew this shit is sad.
Happiness a thought away and the masses don't get it... This shit is orchestrated this here way.
Fuck is getting ahead?
Bullshit insanity.
All this from Allah's hand and we pay for food... We pay for land... Rich ass motherfuckers living high on the hill.
Them and they don't give a fuck bout we... Po niggas got's to be, the awful and deep reality of civilization, See?
A reach into the all and I stand solar and supreme... Majestic and free... Bow to no man... No... not me.
Forged of the blackness of the deepest forests of Africa... From whence my ancestors came... We spoken of in holy scroll as the children of god.
We warrior David... We wise Solomon... We the son they mounted on the theoretical cross.
A square standing in a circle and we... We came from the projects spitting hurricane fyah and rhythmic philosophy designed to move the masses.
So long ago and we... We better wake up cause its getting late, See?
A reach into the all and its so simplistic mathematically as trillions drop tremendously empty... Right by yo head, and we consumed in the need to be spiritually succumb to virtual insanity... Salem witch hunts and metaphorical terrorist's peekin round the corner... Police still beatin niggas every damn day.
All we gotta do is reach into the all of we... The melanistic all of we... The blackest blackness of we...
The image of god we... Where we descend from... See?
This system but another mans version pushed historically pon we... Pigfeet and reality t.v.
A reach into the all and a resounding smack...
Stars and tears in yo eyes.



JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY



Thursday, October 22, 2015

{ THE MANY FORMS OF LOVES MANIFESTATION}


{ THE MANY FORMS OF LOVES MANIFESTATION}
THE SOUND... PLEASE LISTEN CAUSE ITS SET UP THAT WAY...
https://youtu.be/8gFtYs_WRR0

I loved you and you made me smile... So radiant and I had the strength to change planets of beings into sentients.
I loved you and you made me cry... Salty waters that were so deep that they fell into pits of darkness where my mentality screamed at me to wake.

Sun caresses skin
Man awakens from deep slumber
Darkness must follow


You talked to me and your voice was the sound of angels singing to me of birth and resurrection from imminent death.
You talked to me and my soul cringed, so much hate and rage... Your face so twisted.
How could it come to this I wondered.

Heaven in her eyes
Promises of better days
Hell in her ragings

I found comfort in your softness, release in your depths, sweet sleep in the bed beside you... Such blissful states.
I found hurt in the crevasses of your skin, betrayal was the smell that lingered on your flesh... So sharp the pain lying on a bed of nails.

She chocolate drops
Melting and satisfying
Bitter unrefined

You taught me so much that I have a framed P.H.D. in the art of love... cunniligustically a beast, Skilled with my meat.
You taught me so much that sex frightens me... To where from here? A warrior out here alone against the rising tide time.

The water shimmers
Waves shushing to mans heart shores
 Reflectively we

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY