COCOA

{COCOA}
THE SOUND AS THE CLASS BEGINS...


And of chocolate, that most delectable creation.

So many have, are and will die for it.

So savage the way of man.

Covetous creature that he is.

Dark the color of it all.

From it we sprang, born of an explosion, born of cosmic dust.

Chocolate the allusions that I speak upon when I speak pon you, my African queen.

Here we are and I would break these things down to you.

How the love of chocolate, the hate of chocolate are interrelated.

Of beginnings where we nude and free ran through forests, plains and fantastically panoramic glades.

Chocolate tones glinting in the golden light of a thermonuclear sun.

How in these times children are exploited in its name.

Chocolate and melanin so interlaced in the grand scheme of things.

Control such a detrimental thing, so sad the song.

Chocolate beating on the skin of drums.

So urgent and I... Oh I.

I locked in a pineal prism trying to explain.

Sweet chocolate dribbling cross my taste buds every time I speak pon we.

Sweet chocolate sold at greatly exaggerated prices in specialty stores.

Fake chocolate sold to the masses.

Educational systems that feed the masses that bullshit.

High fructose corn syrup causing diabetes of body and mind.

Beautiful woman screaming at the top of her lungs in a hallway.

Nobody around who would listen, nobody who would give a damn.
Sometimes all it takes is an ear, a minute of all this time.
Chocolate dreams, chocolate fears and chocolate realization.
Hypothesized, theorized and realized.
Chocolate the root of all these things.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{COCOA}
THE SOUND AS THE CLASS BEGINS...


And of chocolate, that most delectable creation.

So many have, are and will die for it.

So savage the way of man.

Covetous creature that he is.

Dark the color of it all.

From it we sprang, born of an explosion, born of cosmic dust.

Chocolate the allusions that I speak upon when I speak pon you, my African queen.

Here we are and I would break these things down to you.

How the love of chocolate, the hate of chocolate are interrelated.

Of beginnings where we nude and free ran through forests, plains and fantastically panoramic glades.

Chocolate tones glinting in the golden light of a thermonuclear sun.

How in these times children are exploited in its name.

Chocolate and melanin so interlaced in the grand scheme of things.

Control such a detrimental thing, so sad the song.

Chocolate beating on the skin of drums.

So urgent and I... Oh I.

I locked in a pineal prism trying to explain.

Sweet chocolate dribbling cross my taste buds every time I speak pon we.

Sweet chocolate sold at greatly exaggerated prices in specialty stores.

Fake chocolate sold to the masses.

Educational systems that feed the masses that bullshit.

High fructose corn syrup causing diabetes of body and mind.

Beautiful woman screaming at the top of her lungs in a hallway.

Nobody around who would listen, nobody who would give a damn.
Sometimes all it takes is an ear, a minute of all this time.
Chocolate dreams, chocolate fears and chocolate realization.
Hypothesized, theorized and realized.
Chocolate the root of all these things.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{SLIPPIN}

{SLIPPIN}

Better not let me catch you slippin...
Not paying attention.
Betta not let me not like yo bitch ass...
See Im'ma getcha...
Betta not be not from my hood...
Not know my story, who the fuck I am.
A one man harbinger of the worst kind of chaos.

See I ain't braggin bout the shit I done or the shit I will do, I'm just a survivor.

The worst kind of man you can encounter is one who has taken on the skin of a chameleon.

One who can morph into any being he wants to be.

Intelligent, yet a savage beast.

One who knows that this, this is a system of control designed to trap and enslave.

One who lives outside that box and can rationalize it that so that even the timid overstand.

Betta not let me catch you slippin cause I will leave you lying in a pool of your life force, no remorse.

Set your streets on fire and cast your ashes to the four winds.

Not a killer yet not a friend, just the way it is.

Fuck with me or fuck with me not I could give a flying fuck.

My allegiance is to my creation born of exploding star, birthed of a woman on a tilted earth.

No to some flag, not to some polluted religion, I the anomaly roaming in steel and concrete.

Name painted hieroglyphic graffiti on brick walls.

A shadow, a breeze, the movement at the edges of your peripherals, see?

So highly analytical that even when you think the ball is in your court its bouncing on mine.

Pawns, knights and bishops all still bow to the king.

Betta not let me catch you slippin.

I will fuck you straight the fuck up.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(REBIRTH)

And I woulda reached into the ether, formed you of the stars and planets that glimmered in the depths of space.
On a moonlit night.
I woulda breathed of the vapors and exhaled them into the form of you.
A gasp... You awakened.
I woulda had tears of exclamation and surprise in my eyes
Yeah I woulda cried.
My tears dropping on your perfect brown skin.
It absorbing them.
I woulda held you in the deepest esteem as I protector stood supreme against any who threatened our dream.
The perimeters of all our cities, towns and villages.
I woulda draped you in all the finery that this planet could provide.
Fed you the finest meals that I a man could provide.
Just a smile and I would melt down to the deepest particles of my very core.
Willing and able participant in all that could and would commence.
And I woulda carried you with me in my dying, a sigh and I looking into your eyes.
I woulda spoke of you in the all as I returned.
Immortal.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BLOODY HELL)

(BLOODY HELL)

Sound...
https://youtu.be/BD9f0t8P7sE

Bloody water in city gutters flowing on down into the sewers...

Dirty water made that way by a mans DNA, life stolen so young.

Life running down the proverbial drain.

Enough to ache the very real brain.

Black ain't easy in this truth and reality.

Black wanna kill black... White wanna eradicate black.

Black the evil that skin placed on a child's back.

Born to be the anomaly.

Blood spatters on tapestries that tell the story of our ignominy.

Such a savagely orchestrated brutality as played out logically.

Baby's dying as old men seek to live eternally.

Pieces of placenta and bit's of stem cells.

Bloody experiments and bastardized ancient rituals.

Bloody water flowing from lifeless form.

Body incinerated and gone.

Don't nobody even give a damn.

All he was a man.

Such lofty notions as sold religion.

Cliques, gangs and nations.

Man done forgot his station.

Bloody handprints on the pages of all these pages of all these lives.

Bodies lying used and abused on the slab.

A self perpetuated, psychologically induced state of insanity.

Bloody water washing down the storm drain.

Blue and red lights flashing in the black.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Racism as an instinctual concept.

Racism as an instinctual concept.
A discourse by Jerald Murphy.
https://youtu.be/WDxYyjYjDz0

(LOOK)

(LOOK)

THIS IS THE TONE.

DONT MISS IT...

https://youtu.be/vCJY2NSSU1g

Could I hold your hand across the table...

Look into your eyes?
Could I unwind as the scene passes us by... Glasses clinking in the background.
Could I speak of my innermost thoughts...
Show you the surface of my peaceful planet.
The place where I and I silent resideth
Where I king would queen thee...
Such a fragrantly poignant image that it would waft pheromone over hue-manity.
Cause deep thought.
I and I single, a savagely poised lyrical beast...
You by my side and I would eviscerate time from its swinging pendulum.
Our love sang of in far distant times...
Read in schools of future thought.
Look into my eyes.
Could I hold your hand?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY