(MAN SUSPENDED IN THE CLOUDS) GANJA DEN

And what of the man who sees who stands on the corner?
Such a delicate balance of all these things.
How simply simplistic could it be obtained... These beasts pounding on theoretical and theological chests.
Whole cities and countries marching to war.
A bee landing on a flower as all is life.
Such a beautiful image disturbed by the sound of body to ground... The man who sees asking why and the rays of the sun get hotter.
Screams and the sound of a catastrophe clashing in man's mind.
Such a delicate ballet as the rich dine at overflowing tables... Bones of the mentally enslaved on their plates... Those who would follow Kings instead of principalities... Such savagery.
Children in the poorest neighborhoods still play... Laughter ringing off the walls... The prophets being reborn in the ghettos cause that's where they come from... The men who stand guard on the corners and watch this shit go down.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE ACTUALITY OF ALL THIS ACCOUNTABILITY)

We been living under this savage system so long.
Our ancestors lying in stolen ground, been dead and gone.
Babies born in the grip of poverty, we living in a system of of no accountability.
Not from the clergy, the government, nor from these streets, seen?
And here we are in a new century still calling each other niggas, bitches and hoes, buying cars, shoes and clothes.
We dying for these things that have no real value cause if you died today you can't take none of that shit to your grave... Can't leave it to your kids cause you still making payments.
Heir property don't extend to anything but tangible things.
Such a sad reality as black life don't mean a fucking thing... Not to the police, the courts or the government, seen?
Such a savage system foretold in holy scrolls that interpreted by preachers became the chains of slavery.
A moment in the land of the free and the home of the brave...
A moment suspended in this insanity.
We been living under this shit for far to long.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(OF HEAVENLY LOVE WOULD'ST I MAN SPEAK) DEDICATED TO AND INSPIRED BY TOYA.

I have loved you since the beginning of time... Every since the first day I opened my eyes in recognition.
I a newly created man awakening on a world of plenty... It continuing for as far as I could see.
Men in later times would make books which would speak of we... Osiris and Isis, Adam and Eve... The beginnings of humanity.
We so in love that our unions would be spoken of until these modern times... When these modern times are our children's ancient his-story.
I have seen your face in my vivid dreams which wake me up breathing rapidly... Sheets wet with the fluid of our sex... I trying to hold on to the memories... Begging to know your name.
I walking have looked in nooks and crannies, In the massive crowds, clubs and churches, temples and masjids... Such a daunting task as I have faced the jubilations and the heartbreak, the pure pain and the agony alone.
Surrounded by these beings who have their own problems... My mind in such a vivid quandary... I in my seeking have prayed on bended knee, as I walked among humanity... All to no avail.
You remind me of these things every time I glance of thee, so far away yet so near... The fulfilment of all my dreams in sleeping and waking, I in holding your hands in conveying these things.
If only... If only...

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(LET ME EXPLAIN) INSPIRED BY TOYA

Everytime I see you I just wanna throw you down and lick the melanin outta your crevasses.
I'm talking bout lick you till you moan and cream, scream and skeet.
Push your legs back and kiss your lips, lap your clit, play with your tittie's, twist you nips just a lil bit.
Everytime I see you I have such vivid visions that they send me into over spin.
You such a delectably yummy treat. Your skin the catalyst to my freaky, your voice the song playing in my mind the lounge that I linger in, in you I am found as the blood in my phallus pound, pound, pounds.
It straining in it's skin, striving to be encased in your punani the sheath. So much allegory to explain something of such simplicity.
We butt ass naked and seeking this release, you the victim and I the beast or is the other way around as I turn you over and take you from behind?
Pulling you back and forth on my engorged meat, spanking your ass cheeks, biting your back, your neck, pulling your hair.
You gone feel this in the morning.
Everytime.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

In the beginning all was blackness and man dwelled in the blackness of who he was.
The melanin in his skin testifying to who he was.
In the beginning man knew of his connection to all things, his responsibility.
Man and animal one.
Man and God one, man who had come from the heart of an exploded 🌟 and erupted on the scene supreme.
His DNA encoded spirally with the beginnings of all the other races, they would be born of his loins and populate the surface of planet Earth.
All formed of the darkness they would gradually grow lighter, cast out as lepers they would form colony's and move North.
Eventually settling in the mountains they lived as animals and forgot the ways of man.
All the while man building great cities and pyramids would forget about them.
Time would move on and the outcaste would become the Caucasian.
Man in his infancy thought that he could tame these beings. He would welcome him into his schools and universities, the Greeks and the Romans them
Teach them the knowledge and the oaths, teach them the deadly strokes.
Hieroglyphics and alphabetics, mathematics and philosophy.
The most delicate game psychology.

(I MAN IN RETROSPECT)

Here I man sit lost in these thoughts roaming free in mine thoughts.
So many experiences and I man take a breath of the cosmos for I man dwell in everything, everything in I man.
I man have felt so happy, so sad.
All of these things on I man's mind.
The woman I man dreamed of and the women that I man found.
Of love so tangible it had a taste... Bittersweet if I man recollect as it ended, twisted and jumbled on the dressing floor.
I man pirouette.
She lingers in I mans epidermis, fills the crevasses of I mans psyche, her smell permeating the caverns of I mans subconscious.
I man, so lonely in this plethora, no one to share these things, I mans tears falling into the pool of blackness from whence I man came.
Echoes of I man resounding off the walls.
I man falling, falling.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE UTTER INSANITY)

And what of the traveler... The Lonesome Stranger on the inside looking out... The outside looking in?
This world spinning out of control as dictated by evil regimes and lofty democracies.
What of the babies who thus enslaved will live others dreams... What of our progeny?
So much pain that could have been avoided... So many tears of aggravation... So many lives lost to feed the beast.
Wars, famine and embargoes...
Politicians dining at the table of plenty...  Babies dying because of greed, of poverty... Politicians blaming it on the masses... Rampant crime and utter insanity... These things the traveler sees... Man praying to a God that exists in him... Pimped on the street corner religion... Splayed like dirty whores.
Calling themselves free as they serve the worst slavery ignominy... Right in front of their friends and family as they dance to the rhythmic beat.
What of the traveler... The Lonesome Stranger who bears witness to these things.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY