(THE AUDACITY)
IF I HAVE TO TELL YOU BOUT THE MUSIC YOU GOTTA BE NEW...
https://youtu.be/ntQowgPy0CA

So many diversions as I contemplate the various modes of you.
Woman... Here I sit a man with so many observations of you... Your varied forms and manifestations.
Some good, some bad and still I am lost unto you.
An alien lifeform, is it me or you?
So mixed up and all I want is you.
I look, I wonder, is this she?
Could we? Would we?
So many facets as I find myself expounding upon you.
Queen as well as the sweetest delicacy a man could ever delight in.
Young, old and in between, dark as coffee, light as pecan tan.
A lil bit of crazy cause love ain't love without that in the mix.
Just gotta tell the truth.
Thick, skinny or in between... I in my diversity find myself perusing you on a humid summer day.
Light sheen on your skin... Sundresses and shorts that accent the rise and fall, the creases and the curves.
Falling as shower on my psyche... Cleansing I a man's soul.
All these things that would make men emotional as you walk by me.
Pure poetry.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THESE THINGS I WOULD DO UNTO YOU}

{THESE THINGS I WOULD DO UNTO YOU}
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/UPMwe6eX3wE

Upon seeing you... I mean really seeing you. I would dine pon you.
Drink of you with my eyes, smell of you with my nose.
So fresh... So sweet.
I would savor each passing second as an eternity... locked and loaded into my fertile mentality.
Each time I touched your skin I would feel a shock... It reverberating into my primal cavities.
It making my manhood swell... So heavy... So thick.
I would swallow my spit in anticipation... Suck on my tongue.
Upon seeing you I would kiss your forehead... Linger pon your lips... Pause at the jutting of your hips.
Rub my fingers gentle pon your clit... Take them away and pause for a whiff... My beast trying to communicate with yours.
I needing you so bad yet I wanting you wanting it... Your liquids shining on your inner thigh skin.
Juicy and sweet as I lap of it a moment before entering your valley... Kissing the petals and hearing you moan.
Such a savagely innocent thing... The way you arch your back and call my name.
Upon seeing you I would try to make you feel as I feel... See as I see.
Make you reborn orgasmic... A journey through the galaxies and universes of who and what we have become.
We here in the 21st century where you lie with thighs pushed back and riding my tongue.
Me not letting go as you cum and cum... Don't you run now! Bring that pussy back!
Holding you as you tremble and moan... Stop! No don't stop! You flowing into my mouth.
Such a sweet opening stanza to what is to come... Us lying next to each other breathing frantically as the nut subsides.
Upon seeing you all these things run cross my fertile mind.
I would devour you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{HYPERPOETICALLY}

{HYPERPOETICALLY}
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/QSIz6F0FooU

Sun peeking through trees as cicadas sing such deafening melodies that play as pon ears as symphonies... Sky as blue as skies can get, clouds superimposed as thoughts run through juxtaposed.
Birds shimmering, bathed in luminescent splendor as mans mind surrenders, a translucent image on a window.
Such beauty in the most insignificant, such is the way of the magnificent.
We passing these moments by on the way to bigger and better things, fleeting dreams flying by on gossamer wings.
The ant passing by would remind us that work is essential, that life is eventual, that in the grand scheme so many of us exist inconsequential.
Souls sold to a violent system of pimps and whores, always, always striving for more.
These things wasting away into to nothingness, fading away into cosmic dustiness.
Check me out encyclopedia, dictionary and apocrypha, these images falling from fingers hieroglyphical.
These words would stand the test of time, becoming future rhythm and rhyme, fruit hanging from fertile vine.
Hands outstretched to catch the thermonuclear rays, man stands amazed.
Stars the endless seas calling his name... The rapture, the pain.
Sun setting, falling from sight, crickets and grasshoppers into the night.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{JUST A DROP}
THE BASS DROP...
https://youtu.be/zvkOoyd4IrA



Where we exist... Mans mind drifts.
Who am I... Who am we... Where does it all begin and where will it end.
Mans mind drifts... He exists in the beats of a bees wings... The flight of birds cruising above the seas.
The laughter of children across the waves as they break pon beach... The concern of mothers echoing, echoing, the floating lovers suspended in the salinity.
Man lies back and exists weightlessly... A drop in the all of who he is... Who are we... So much preponderance pressure as clouds drift in sky horizontally.
Flat earth such a primitive mentality in its origin... Slavery such a fragile concept as we exist in the throes of trickery.
What would I tell a child to set him free?
Tickle his carbon, hydrate the marrow in his bones... Wake him from the valley floor.
Day above and night below... A dive to the ocean floor from whence all life sprang.
All this life and all this death... So needlessly lost as the earth hurtles through space locked in orbit around a thermonuclear star.
Truth and lies having become mingled and merged into one... So many locked into systems of control and deceit... God does not spend money... There should be no homeless or hungry.
Church and state the true beast... Mouth open as lives are fed into the ravenous maw of thought control... Stripped mentalities shitted out.
Where we exist... Who am I... Who am we.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(RECLAMATION) INSPIRED BY SHERINA.
THE SOUND THAT ACCOMPANIES THESE WORDS...
https://youtu.be/sPjdo4KG3nE

I breathe the air and it reminds me of she... Somewhere out there, breathing the same air.
Inhalation, exhalation... Inhalation, exhalation
All these miles and she reverberates greatly in me, floods my psyche with fluidity.
Such sweet thoughts that they growing on tree would be fruit of knowledge... Ingested they would feed fires of creativity.
I digressing would paint she from the very molecular structure of air.
Mad monk painting in cave I would leave she posed for future generations sake... Warrior on the plains I would wield she in my death stroke...
Whisper she name as I return to the flow.
I so absorbed into the blackened layers of she melanin based skin.
She my aphrodisiac... I hard in the approaching storm.
Pink tint in dusky sky as I man digress pon she.
Lost in the succulent wonder as it swallows me... Leaves me sated in she reality.
Air... Oxygen, carbon dioxide and these beings... We.

rec·la·ma·tion

ˌrekləˈmāSH(ə)n/

noun

the process of claiming something back or of reasserting a right.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SLAVERY) SENRYU
THE MUSIC... THE PIECE AND THE MUSIC ARE SYNONYMOUS.
https://youtu.be/yqUYj7f6ssg

(H20)
Rain washing over them
Such cleansing liquidity
Falling from dark sky

(FIRE)
Flashes of bright light
Realization sought, found
Forests burn to ground

(STEAM)
Salty water from pores
Glistening in the sun's rays
Man toils needlessly

(MOTION)
He exists in want
Following the massive crowd
Peace eludes him daily

(EXPENSED)
The earth welcomes him
Born of dust he returns home
Such the way of things

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(GLORIOUSLY)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/_zgD3RTIlhU

One day we gone come reborn... One day.
One day we gone wake up from our long sleep and let go of that dream...
One day we gone erupt anew...
We gone embrace the truth and hug our brother, love our mother and cherish our skin color... We gone come from the street corners and the projects... The homeless shelters and the jails. We gone come... One day.
One day we gone look deep inside and find that key... We gone stand perpendicular and walk erect... We gone be a viable entity... One day we gone grasp our godhood our goddesshood... Bring that magic bursting forth, surging out and freeing... One day we gone embrace African heritage and scorn tricknowledge... We gone tear the fabric of existence.
One day... We gone.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY