(SOFTLY FOR YOU)
THIS VIDEO IS ME READING THIS PIECE...
https://youtu.be/ElI2PwspQUM

I would descend upon thee as butterfly... So soft and fluttering, and tingles, oh the tingles and I would wax gently pon thee.
I would hold thee ever so softly and whisper of unrealized and realized dreams and things of great weight... I would minister to thine needs.
Speak from the pulpit love.
Cause thine church to sway.
Softly the brush of mine lips.
Puckering nipples and the beginning of wet betwixt thine thighs.
I biblical would enter the scene, knock pon thy entrance and at your beckoning I would inhabit thy domicile.
Become the glory hallelujah and the shouts of joy.
Tears of salty water from thine tear ducts.
Splashes of liquid and thine fluid shining on mine phallus, so reminiscent of the birth of hue-manity, angels and seraphim.
So soul filling and I Mmmm, I just. Oh!
I the flittering and the filling.
You the receptacle of mine light reflective pulling at the tides, and I oh I feel you in the very deepness of mine darkness.
The metaphorical pool from which I and I sprang.
An amoebic one celled being.
Out of many one.
Annuit Coeptis and here we are formed.
I so transparent that I am air.
Descending pon you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

One day in a modern Babylon on a world somewhere a man awoke.

One day in a modern Babylon on a world somewhere a man awoke.
He cursed his white skin and the dimness of his sun.
He cursed the fact that he had not been born of the darker skin.
He lamented greatly this man.
Looking at his people he saw only apathy and it pressed down, oh it pressed down.
Now this man worked in the factories of the dark man building the dark mans things and every day he wondered if on another world there were enslaved people.
If any other people had gone through what his had, and were going through.
At which stage of their existence they were.
So much thought for one of the ones whose story had been wiped out in great wars and crusades, always fought on the land of his ancestors.
The man looked at his children and knew that they had so far to go.
He wondered if they would make it in the future.
Not just 50 years but thousands.
He thought of his father, such a gentleman, so tormented with the fact that he was leaving children to the ones who had broken his body but not his mind.
The man remembered his passing, he missing him greatly.
He thought of his mother and almost cried, she had endured so much.
These savage streets where she had had to survive.
He remembered the times she had stood up to authority and how it had tried to crush them down.
He had learned from them never to trust the dark ones for in the end they all were one.
They having realized this on some sort of subsonic level.
After work every day the man went home and closed his door and studied of his people.
The sad fact was that when he found truth his people rejected it and looked at him with scorn while falling down on their knees to images of dark gods.
Such a sad situation, truth but a book away and they refused it.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THOU WOULD KNOWEST NOT)
THE SOUND... THIS... THIS THAT FYAH.
https://youtu.be/zrMuFPznLwQ

In mine great desire I would descend unto thee.
I seeking to devour thee to the very deepest depths of thy darkest core.
I pausing at the gates would touch the structure of thine lips and peruse the color.
Black fading into pink, so captivatingly colored for mine enjoyment.
A glance into the sky... I giving praise.
Mine emotions in turmoil... Thou hast that effect.
Mine hardness beating in tune with our hearts.
Such a heavy weight standing erect.
I lying underneath would lower thee onto mine tongue flick thine little man standing... Maketh thy sigh... Maketh thy cry.
I lying underneath would cause thy fluids to flow.
I taking thine hips and lowering thy down... The satin of thine sheath pulsating and pulsating.
Thine lips blood engorged pouting at mine pushing and jutting at mine pulling.
Shiny the ebony of mine member as it with veins standing feels the inner of your innards.
The opening of thine womb.
Mine whole being immersed would soar to heights unimaginable... Small thinking men and women indeed.
I in mine great desire See'th these tangible things.
They consumeth mine psyche.

A JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY PRODUCTION

{LET ME BE YOUR LESBIAN}

 {LET ME BE YOUR LESBIAN}
THE SOUND AS I WOO THE WOMAN IN YOU...
https://youtu.be/gn42xVshlA0

You remind me of times where I could not have physically been on this plane.
I mean maybe I was, as the seed of a male ancestor... my grandfathers grandfathers father maybe.
The fruit that dangled from prototypical Eve's tree... Fallopian see?
Your voice so like wind chimes as they ring in the breeze and I... See I want to sigh.
You got me spinning see? A pine seed pirouetting to fertile ground.
My roots questing and finding hold in your heart I would hope.
I having been hurt so and lying wounded in the deepest darkest recesses of my metaphorical cave.
It existing so there in my real physical brain.
Broken and shattered pieces of my soul that need the glue of you.
So different and for you I would be lesbian... Just a moment to touch and hold... My masculinity pressing at the outermost layers of my skin.
So hard... So soft... We as mingled as can be... A single entity.
I overstanding you on photonic levels... Beams of light are we shining from our blackest ethnicity.
You making me want to cream all over you... Dribble into the folds and creases of you.
So influential art thou as muse... I would paint a masterpiece of words for you.
I would watch you as you perform carnal and become a part of you.
Urging you to reach that higher plateau where pleasure and voyeurism merge... Is that enough to satisfy you I would ask before touching you.
I lesbian would revel in the beast in you... I trapped in a mans body would reach out to you and feel of your liquidity.
The very viscosity of you... I man would sigh at how you relieve me in your relieving and releasing.
I would hold you... I would reminisce on times when I existed as lust in a primitive mans eyes... When I smelling of your pheromones would have taken you savagely... We grunting and moaning as the throes of passion find us erupting as squirts and spray onto the very plains of our existence.
I would be lesbian for you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(DROPS FALLING REFLECTIVE SEE)
THE SOUND SO INTROSPECTIVE SEE...

The drops of rain fall reflective in puddles where lights glisten and waves undulating outward testify that more is occurring right now.
The sky grey hides the brutal Florida sun, a brief moment of respite from the blazing rays.
The trees reach to heaven thanking Allah.
Cows in field kneeling down, such relief.
A slowwww down and so many cursing natural occurrences.
The grass would remind you of being brown, a man in Africa would gladly trade places right now.
A fish would jump up and slap ya, Somebody somewhere is thirsty right now, crusty lips and a hungry belly.
People crying bout rain one way or the other I guess.
Too much, too little, never just enough, that way with so many things I guess.
Drops in the very sky catching the very light prismatic.
Reflections reflecting introspective on a grey day in T'allah' assee.
Seven hills bearing witness to the glory.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BLINDING EYE PI)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/yNUGupuqrag

Here I am a moment after being born of darkness... A flash shining bright on a field of light, a splash of darkness.
I come tremendously blinding... Spots dancing on the periphery of peripherals... All that and primitive Neanderthals with African genes bow down.
Not afraid, I am God, they created and spit from mama's loins.
Not afraid I would blast these things, fire would burn these things.
I trampling pon my enemies, Warrior lost in the throes of ancient ballet.
Stomping dust from terra forma, drums and undulating cries.
Here I  am 5'9" 10 feet tall, Lions stand aside as by them I stride, blending into the background, horizon.
Sun pon screen as I roam foreground.
I am the nunya that thundered cross the boundlessness of creation... The realization of visualization, the hard drop.
I born of divinity in a chamber ancient, a carbon and water structure containing a supercomputer.
Hypercybernetically supreme being and I see the lies gleaming succinctly in the nether. I could reach out and touch them, could show them to the masses and arise them from the lie slavery.
The masses and I and I observe them lost.
My logic screams in agony at the tragedy, these supposedly sentient beings, these sheep.
Here I am rays tanning melanin in 2016.
Sunburn seen?
Here I am star shining over Africa, here I  am raised on foreign ground Babylon, here I am.
Thorn piercing side.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(LINDA AND THE TRAVELER ME) DEDICATED TO A QUEEN
THE SOUND... LOVE THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/jgUV76PniDA

I playing you mp4 on my synapses...sparks bouncing off my logical floor.
Pretty bits of light and I be enthralled.
Shoulda married you in high school shoulda married you when we was in our 20s.
I always loved you queen.
When we was sittin in them desks I  longed to touch you, when we were in our 20s and grown and I knew you it felt so strong that I afraid of love ran.
Love such a cold hearted motherfucker and I still journeying.
I still love you now and for you I would stand on land made holy by the adhan and speak of you in my salat.
The core of my core is molten lava that threatens to erupt, new worlds and infinite possibilities abounding, such a catalyst thou art.
The days but sun rising and sun setting, the nights a virtual eternity where even sleep is no escape.
I miss you with the taking of my every breath and the swallowing of all my food.
Hollow gestures that remind me of my loneliness.
Birds singing of my sorrow, I living alone in a sea of souls.
Waves washing over me.
Audio and visual... You play and I hear your voice subconsciously, it imprinted on my heartstrings.
I but a spiritual man.
These things I could speak into existence with your aid... I most powerful king at your utterance.
Shoulda been married you, thats what the boys say.
I having loved you since the very first day I glimpsed a view of you.
Even back the you was high definition.
I a young lion, you young lioness.
I will love you till I die.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY