(OF LOSING AND FINDING LOVE FRAGMENTED AND FRACTURED)

So many lost in States of distrust... Past relationships clouding judgement... Such disharmony as love takes a savage beating...

She is calming
Falling across man's soul
Such soothing music

Bruised spirits dwelling in states suspended... Stuck in moments in time... Screams echoing into the depths of the abyss.

He is calming
He has become solid rock
His foundations strong

So much pain... Such apathy... Questions of who, what and why me... Such vivid dreams shattering deep sleep.

Tales of birds and bees
Twain they are the harmony
The promise foretold

So many so hurt that they can't be healed... Such a shame as we exist in all this beauty... Love but a fraction of a thought away... Past is past, today is today.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SAVAGE FI SAVAGE SEE) A WORD SUBMISSION PIECE.

Here we are my people in the future... Our ancestors ghosts crying continuously from the pictures of our past... Hanging from trees and being attacked by dogs... Savage images of the supposedly civilised as they picked a brother... Killed him heinously.
Shit ain't changed in Liberia... Shit ain't changed in Sierra Leone... Shit ain't changed in Washington DC... Shit ain't changed on these streets... Black life it seems still ain't shit in this our brutal reality.
And what of Black Love as it dangles so succinctly... Oh the fucking irony as yet another black baby loses its life to black crime and insensitivity... Preachers standing in the places where warriors should be... Such an orchestrated insanity banging rather synaptically... If only these beings spoke this language universally... Black power born of an ever pressing need... The red, the gold, the black and the green... This thing... This unity, it shining in the distance, it shimmering in it's luminescence... So many afraid of it's presence... Scared at the end of all this slavery... Praying to white God to save them from a white shaitan... Such a fucking conundrum... Success but a changed mentality away... A reeducated child away... A new religiosity away...
Here we are my people in the future... What you gone do?

John Swatz: Liberia, Black Love and Ghost
Ellen Butterfly Allen. Language
Eddie Felton: Success
Hyrim Ether: Shine
Thomas Nickolas: Irony

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

L

(Simplicity)
Man born of Earth's soil
Oceans running through his veins
He was born a God

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SINCE I MET HER)

This woman.
I look into her eyes and I'm just as fucked up as the first time I heard her voice. Each time I hear it I drink of it. She's got me fucked up.
I don't want her to know. I am a Lion, we don't roll like that.
We just came from the beach, waking and talking, smoking a little and talking some more. I have promised her I will show her the world as I see it. The beauty of it all. If only people overstood yen and yang and all that.
She turns to walk away and it is ballet thickened. Her wide hips swaying, all that booty. Told you I was lost. Her skin the color of melted chocolate. Her eyes the brown of trees leaves in fall.
We drive back to the city and I admire her legs as she drives.
The sundress she wears accenting her curves. We talk she smiles, I glow inside.
When we reach her house it's twilight and she walks around closing curtains and shit. I am just fucking mesmerized. Caught up in her.
She says my name and snaps me back to reality. Asks me if I want a drink. I take water. She smiles, again and again. We talk and I find myself amazed at her depth.
She tells me to sit. She wants to freshen up. I sip on my water and play with my phone. I'm writing about her she just don't know. I hear the water running and I look up. There is a mirror in her bedroom and I am surprised to find that I can see her as she slowly slips the dress over her head. There she stands and I look from her body to her face and she's looking directly at me.
I find myself in the bedroom holding her in my arms. I do know how the fuck I got here and I don't care. I place my hand into the moist warmth of her mound and she moans.
I feel it in my bones. The Jones. I kiss her gently upon her lips, she thrusts her tongue I to my mouth and I suck strongly.
I gently lay her back on the bed and sick her nipples, one at a time. My finger on her clit. She arching, she sighs.
I move down and spread her legs while pushing them back. A flick, a lick. I hear her moans and that just makes me want to hear them more. I suck on her clit, take my mouth off it and use the tip of my tongue while shaking my head from side to side and she tries to push my head back, hold it in.
She cums and I stand, my manhood stands erect right in her face and she licks the tip while looking me in my eyes. Fucks me up and I moan as she spits on my meat and swallows as much as she can. Oh my God! She knows what she's doing and I don't know what to do with my hands. I place one on her head, she doesn't resist. I ask her how much she can swallow and she sinks all the way down. I cry out. This shit feels so good. Just plain fucked up.
I stop her and turn her around, her pussy hangs phat between her legs and I plunge in, push her forth and pull her back, slap her jiggling ass cheeks, pull her hair, reach around and grab her breasts.
I stop and turn her over and look into her eyes. Fucks me up all again and I push her back and spread her legs while looking at her sex. So phat, so pretty. I push her legs as far back as I can and her feet touch the bed. Oh my! I'm finna fuck this pussy up and I drive into her. Stand up in it as she begs me to fuck her hard, to make her cum.
We fuck until I feel my nut rising, she screams that she's about to cum again and that's all it takes, I erupt into her and let her legs down, I lay in her and kiss her as my dick goes down. We wipe each other and talk until the sun rises.
I'm just so fucked up.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(PINEAL OBSERVATIONS OF THESE THINGS) THANKS FOR THE PHOTO STARLET.

I man born of the cosmos... I man standing on this rock hurting through space.
A moment as I man linger in this space time continuum... Observe these beings... Such a lovely soliloquy... Such an awful travesty... They having lost their identity through the ages... They becoming these fragments of all they could have been... Humanity a word used to convey compassion in a world where there is none.
I man looking at their religion... All of them... I man crying... Tears vaporizing and becoming the clouds... Raining back down and promoting growth... Running down bloody gutters... I man seeing so much violent crime... Lives flowing back in the flow... Laughter ringing out and I man watch children play... I man maintaining a straight face as I man navigate these corridors and halls... This mansion having so many doors... I man observing these things... Eye man see.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE CURSE OF KNOWING) THE ADVENTURES OF THE LONESOME STRANGER.
THE BIOGRAPHY OF JERALD MURPHY

All I ever really wanted to do was tell my story. The things I'd seen. The injustices, the tragedies, the triumphs. When I was a child I started to read everyday, everything I could. Every book I could find no matter what, the dictionary, the encyclopedias, books on love, books on war, psychology, sociology, witchcraft, voodoo, transcendence.
I knew I was not Christian and would never be. I didn't know what I was but I knew I wasn't going to find what I was looking for in any church.
To much man mixed up in something that they were selling as pure.
By the time I was a teenager I was formidable in any situation. An anomaly in the project's I came from, able to make a motherfucker pick up a gun or put one down.
There wasn't a woman who could resist me if I wanted her. Divorced, separated single or married, at one time I kind of based my existence on that fact. It made me a hated man at a very early age. It also didn't help that I really didn't give a fuck, that I didn't care if I lived or died.
I think I was around 15 years old when the Empire Strikes Back hit the movie screen. I was hanging out with my crew from the projects and we scrapped up the money for one of us to get into the theater and open the back door for the rest of us to get in.
By the scene where Yoda raised the X Wing from the swamp my friends had decided that would be my nickname. I was kinda pissed off and I was like "I ain't no lil green motherfucker." My crew was like "You like Yoda cause you magic nigga. You be walking in places and fucking up white folks minds. You know everything."
I was blown. My name has been Yoda every since. If you ever go around people who actually know me and say Jerald Murphy they will ask you who the fuck that is.
I have done things that I'm not proud of till this day. Life sentence shit.
By the time I was 15 my mom used to always say if you call me I know you're in trouble cause I would disappear for long periods of time. Be in other cities and shit.
I was running drugs and had a run to Jacksonville every week as well as numerous drops in Tallahassee. Older dudes trusted me cause I grew up in the bars and alleys of Tallahassee, I had been around everything, kilos, hoes, murder and mayhem and I knew one thing, I ain't seen shit. At most times I had a girl around my age but I was fucking grown women for perks, clothes and money.
Even the older men I hung around knew of my reputation.
I was trusted in the nightclubs and even helped run one in Frenchtown, I was ordering thousands of dollars worth of liquor and beer by the time I was 16, paying the beer distributer in cash.
I was on top of the world, I was loved, I was hated. An inch away from the penitentiary and didn't give a fuck.

If you would like me to continue this story please let me know in the comments.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FOR THE LOVE OF THE QUEENS)
DONETTA SUBMITTED THE WORD. MISOGYNY.

It seems as if in these times the African woman henceforth to be referred to as the black Queen, has become the sad victim of misogyny.
Her name drug through the mud and hung dirty and rotten off the branch of a metaphorical oak tree.
Black men standing around, some with their heads bowed in sorrow, some weeping tears that fall to the dirt below, a few gripping guns.
In the background are the ones who having been fully whitewashed have destroyed them from within, their white prizes hanging from their arms.
They living the lie, imagining that they fit in, all the while the reality is that they are tokens.
They hating the very loins that they came from, kicking and screaming from slavery and segregation, only a generation away.
The times they are a changing as the little black boys don't wanna be men, they in their fancy dresses and showing their drawers, looking like clowns and proud of it.
All these beautiful black Queens, all this black beauty
So sad the song as we fade into the mist.
We these victims of this self hate, would that it could be as vapor and dissipate.
The men standing at the aforementioned metaphorical tree turn to walk away, the ones with the guns begin to lay waste.
It's time for a new day.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY