[HELLS MAELSTROM]

[HELLS MAELSTROM] A ONE WORD TOPIC SUBMITTED BY LeeLee Aint Msbehavin'
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...
http://youtu.be/jiCbN0oSfeQ

I grew up in hell so every day I know where I am...
Veiwed as inferior by my teachers, viewed as inferior by the police... by society...
Its a miracle that I am still alive.
Every day that I wake up I know that I am in hell...
Evil manifests itself in so many forms... gunshots in theaters and on streetcorners...
Lives ripped from the stream...
Hell fires that burn in Afghanistan... Hell fires in Pakistan ... Hell fires in hallowed halls of justice that burn in judges minds as they sentence men according to race... financial position.
Every day I wake I know that I am in hell... poor people who want for medical care as the doctors play golf and buy yachts... send their children to ivy league schools.
Demons that stand in the house and senate... debate on presidential levels... promises that wither in the burning heat.
Crack dens and meth labs... guns and prostitution all to feed the beast as the beast gapes his jaw.
So hot the acid in his belly... fire and brimstone.
Every day I look at the tell lie vision I know that I am in hell.
Men dressed in the guise of women... Women who lie with women... sodomites fighting for equal rights as the end draws so near.
They who alter the altar of flesh that was givin by Allah... lying under the knife.
Rushing to a certain end.
Hell the abode.


jerald hamzahfaruq murphy

WE

{WE}
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...
http://youtu.be/pJfIy81lYIs


We... you and I are the impossible brought to life by the hands of a most gracious Allah.
He who knows our form better that any scientist taught in any school.
The first man was formed naked as was the first woman from the thought... Be.
He... Creator of the spark that ignites in the synapses... that beats these hearts.
For what are we but super computers governed by electrical impulses...
The tree can be manipulated but can man make a seed... a blade of grass from the sun and the soil?
From the moment of conception to the time of death we are but carbon and water in living form.
A breath as angels stood by magnificent in radiant fyah... wings that covered the sky.
Across the burning sands of time... across the waters of the parted Red Sea...
Secrets of the ancients in our unification as we are kept at odds... Fed a mass media reality propagandous in nature.
Our moment so short as history repeats itself over and over... knowledge gained... knowledge lost.
From us nations have spawned and been crushed... From us civilization sprung.
Ages of stone, bronze, iron, and steel.
Prophets who stood on mountaintops with the wind in folds of robes speaking to the amassed masses...
Prostrated as bushes burned and messages came from the very molecules of the air...
Died at the hands of the congregation as they followed the words of man.
All these things so impossible to imagine are but truth contained in mans cellular structure.
Black is the sun... black are the sons.
We.

[WE MY PEOPLE] DEDICATED TO MY FAMILY

[WE MY PEOPLE] DEDICATED TO MY FAMILY
THE PHOTO IS CALLED A DROP OF TREE..
PLEASE CLICK ON SEE MORE TO READ THE POEM
THE MUSIC FOR THIS THOUGHT...
http://youtu.be/rxbeB-Fvago


We my people are family...
Born of the blessings of Allah...
We my people have been through so much... all these lives... all these deaths.
We find ourselves fighting in such a trying time...
Our children watch.
Our family so rich in talent... so rich in wisdom... so rich in knowledge... the system recognizes.
We need to be whole... we need to be...
These tears that tinkle to the keys are reminders that life is fragile, family is really all we got and that new lives join our family even in these times...
Babies contained in amniotic states of growth.
We my people need to remember that we came from strong trees rooted in the annals of time...
Even when seperated we are a formidable force... together invincible...
Men of God... men of Allah...
Women who are queens standing strong against the ravages of time.
What are we if not parts of the whole... remember the elders who now lie in the ground... remember the children that we have lost.
We my people are family...
We my people hear these words...
We my people are strong...
See?


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[I LOVE ME SOME THICKNESS]

[I LOVE ME SOME THICKNESS]

MAN IF YOU DONT LISTEN TO THIS SONG YOU ARE REALLY MISSING OUT...

http://youtu.be/5NXdJlf_Suw

I WROTE THIS PIECE BECAUSE OF MY COUSIN ELIZABETH JOLLY... SHE SAID THAT SHE THOUGHT I DID NOT DO BIG WOMEN BECAUSE OF THE PICTURES THAT I POST. 

WRONGGGGGG....

I love me some thickness...

Big ol booty and just some thunder thighs...

Big women have the prettiest punanies...

Sitting so pretty with legs pushed back.

Bent on all fours

The other day I said I like to see it wet... legs extended in the air.

Damn big girls have me all fucked up.

Lost in the thick of all that you hold secret in a dress... so damn splendid in some booty shorts.

Lay back and let me play on your playground with my hose... swim in the ocean of yo
u.

I feel the pressure build at the bottom of my scrotum... in the heights of my mind when I see the big beautiful of you.

Walk by and I just want to hold all of that... smack that big ol ass.

Do the things to you that make you call me a freak.... call me big damn daddy... scream into the pillow.

Holler and push my head away as I taste of your honey spot... fill you with the cream of sum yung guy who has aged to perfection lost in the depths of all that you manifest...

Show me your big...

I love to get lost in some thickness...

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[SLOWFALL EROTIQUE]

[SLOWFALL EROTIQUE]

THE MUSIC FOR THE SHOW...

http://youtu.be/pE0HaHUt9U0

A s

      l

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           w

              f

                a

                   l

                      l into the thickness of all that is you.

Thee the harbinger of my most salicious dreams...

I want to see you wet...

The thickness of you that I want to explore... mountains and valley's all erupting from your core...

Do not hide from me for I am but a bard to see... to paint these pictures from words that tell of your fertility...

The beauty of your being... let me see thee in thy splendor.

MMMMMMM.

To drink of your fount as it lies exposed... big ol thighs to the sky.

Big, Beautiful woman... standing in BBW dreams of touching all that you are.

Gently for a second and then roughly cause that how I roll.

Part artist... part hard, no question as to my sexuality.

I like it thick... I like it thin... big booty's dance in the perimeters of my psyche.

If I said it any other way would you overstand?

Come to me thickly... cum to me.

S

   l 

     o 

        w  

           f

             a

                l

                  l.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[INHALATION]

[INHALATION]

THE MUSIC FOR THIS BRIEF INTERLUDE... TOTALLY SETS THE MOOD.

http://youtu.be/CuyezJiX3Aw

THE MODELS NAME IS TIERRA MARIE

Damn girl you got me all caught up in a twirl... lost in a swirl.

From the pointed heels of yo stillettos to the nappy curls that adorn the crown of thy head.

Make me mix old english all off in my prose...you hear I a knock pon yo doe?

Open thy door, thou hast blasted mine mind.. 

Lost all in the grain of your manifestation... the lusciousness of your stance.

Watch some hater come on here and start some shit... running to the facebook report button...

Click!.

Back to the introspection at hand... the dizzying heights of your long legs rising... rising.

Thou art art splashed pon the walls of mens minds... a memory of vivid color... a flash of activity.

The stuff that dreams are made of when in solitude, a most beautiful interlude.

Air as it fills the lungs after a freedive...

Aahhh fresh oxygen.

Thou hast entered the very ether of my being as I remain so lost in your matter.

Damn girl you got me all caught up in a twirl... lost in a swirl.

["THEY" DON'T KNOW ME]

["THEY" DON'T KNOW ME]
THEME MUSIC PLEASE MAESTRO...
http://youtu.be/zm86kBCzUGo

"They" want to know who I am.
Who are "they?"
"They" don't know a damn thang bout me.
"They" got me fucked up.
This omnipresent "they" that be circling like vultures on a death scene...
Spreading rumors and trying to steal my stride...
Hold on I just changed it up.
More styles than a plastic surgeon got tucks.
"They" must wanna be like me or else why would "they" be so concerned with what the fuck I do.
"They" need to get some buisiness and stay the hell out a my way cause I got more stopping power than a lethal injection...
Me a lick gunshots pon dem in the name of all my ancestors... free man and slave...
"They" click the report button instead of talking to I like kings and queens... if "they" dont like me then "they" bitch ass need to hit delete...
I'm gone be me...
Unrestrained and free.
Obviously "they" ain't checked my resume...
Trap houses and street corners is where I was raised.
African progeny loosed on Babylonian streets.... talk much shit every damn day.
Fuck them "they."

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY