[THAT PHAT CAT]

[THAT PHAT CAT]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE. MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN
http://youtu.be/GTfPvSjWiCQ

You got such a pretty phat cat, spread your legs and let me see all that.
Phat cat hanging so sweet... all up in my big booty dreams.
Lay back and show me in slow motion as you open them big ol thighs.
Ahhhhh.
Pretty purple lips and pink flashes of your tunnel where it seems I become lost in the mushy, gooshy softness of your lust.
The rock hardness of my pole all covered in veins... stroking and probing my way to the interior of your womb... ribbed for your pleasure.
A heartbeat away from exploding as I drink of the phat of your cat.
Man in the boat standing at attention... a most beautiful clit if I may say so.
Your phat cat got me all caught up... lost in beastly degrees of digression as you bend and twist in nakedness beneath me.
On top of me in a reverse cowgirl... bent over the edge of the bed... covered in a shining haze of sweat... hollering in obvious release.
A slap of my hand as I smack into your skin and see the waves of your asscheeks crashing to the shores of my flesh.
Show me that phat cat and lets wet the bed and the floor.
You got such a pretty phat cat, spread your legs and let me see all that.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[COMPLEXITY OF YOUR COMPLEXION]

[COMPLEXITY OF YOUR COMPLEXION]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS SCRIBE AND THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS MUSIC SO LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/em0stb6BFoU

Woman so complex... Makes a man wonder, makes a man ponder.
Woman echoing in the framework of all that we are... all that we will become.
We these babes that grow from a womans love, her hate and scorn.
So many take for granted her complexity, lost in lies of Adam and Eve... Mary Magdalene
Apples and trees... seven veils and Knights Templer.
Woman you intrigue as your tale is weaved across the span of human existence...
Drips and drops of you in melodic tones falling from singing lips.
Ebony and pecan tan skin tones as scribed on your surface... carved into your skin.
Beauty begins within.
Woman for you have boys became men... made transitions and manifested...
Black butterflies spreading drying wings and flying off into the rays of the distant sun.
Slaves to your charms.
Islands of plenty glowing on the horizon as we the ships float in the vacuum of so much dead space...
In the blackest of night where even what is revealed is hidden... in the forest of mankinds laws.
Woman you have the ability to build and create... destroy and tear down... soothe the savage mind.
Whole nations exist in your passing... in your awakening.
Lost in the complexity of your complexion.
Intentionally.


JERALD HAMZAHFARQ MURPHY

[INSIDE AND OUT]

[INSIDE AND OUT]
the music for this one. be advised it is hotta dan dragon fyah...
http://youtu.be/

4wwO1FS8x1Q

If I could right now I would write my way under your clothes... tell you the things that I want to do to you.
Display my beastly nature.
Yet it is not ordained that I speak to you in such a manner at this time so I say these soft words to you.
Words designed to play on your beauty... to allude to your strength... to cast an allusion of your illusion as it plays in the theatre of this and all these lives.
I sit here with all my primitive emotions bound in restraints as I see you in all your splendor while I drink it all in... sweet liqued across the receptors of my optics... invision the ambrosia as it saturates my perception.
I want to write my way through your body and end up behind you standing so close as I whisper in your ear... melt you with the heat of my words... change your world.
I a mage of indescribable power as I weave a picture of we standing clothed in the sand as the waves lap at our feet and I show you parts of me that no other has seen... shush, shush, shush, go the waves as the sun falls and the moon rises.
You a queen of amazing beauty as your heartbeat becomes the drums that my words dance to... ancient rythms played out on black and white keys.
Keyboards and synthesizer drumpads that pay homage to the true beauty of you in all your regality... 
Fully clothed...
A queen.

jerald hamzahfaruq murphy

[COMPLEXITY OF YOUR COMPLEXION]

[COMPLEXITY OF YOUR COMPLEXION]

THE MUSIC FOR THIS SCRIBE AND THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS MUSIC SO LISTEN...

http://youtu.be/em0stb6BFoU

Woman so complex... Makes a man wonder, makes a man ponder.

Woman echoing in the framework of all that we are... all that we will become.

We these babes that grow from a womans love, her hate and scorn.

So many take for granted her complexity, lost in lies of Adam and Eve... Mary Magdalene

Apples and trees... seven veils and Knights Templer.

Woman you intrigue as your tale is weaved across the span of human existence...

Drips and drops of you in melodic tones falling from singing lips.

Ebony and pecan tan skin tones as scribed on your surface... carved into your skin.

Beauty begins within.

Woman for you have boys became men... made transitions and manifested...

Black butterflies spreading drying wings and flying off into the rays of the distant sun.

Slaves to your charms.

Islands of plenty glowing on the horizon as we the ships float in the vacuum of so much dead space...

In the blackest of night where even what is revealed is hidden... in the forest of mankinds laws.

Woman you have the ability to build and create... destroy and tear down... soothe the savage mind.

Whole nations exist in your passing... in your awakening.

Lost in the complexity of your complexion.

Intentionally.

[HISTORIC SCROLL]OR LETS BUST IT DOWN TO THE LAST COMPOUND

[HISTORIC SCROLL]OR LETS BUST IT DOWN TO THE LAST COMPOUND
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
http://youtu.be/2FCYutgffcw


Where once you thought you had crushed our story.. buried it in a white Bible... trampled it beneath Manifest Destiny.
We arise in new times the random factor in a bowl of frosted flakes... truth has been twisted into lies to keep the masses appeased... Whole congregations lost on bended knees... eyes cast upwards to false representations of heaven and mans origins... speaking in tongues and falling in the aisles.
Slobbering on hog and drinking legal liquer as sold at the corner store... lost in Babylon as black children die a little inside everyday.
On the sidewalks and under the trees... standing in the face of all this opposition... so many who think that slavery was their beginning... forgetting that without Africa there would be no here and now.
Running to the polls to vote cause you been told so... Obama has done the same thing that every other president did... gave us his ass to kiss after we swole the polls.
This is not our system and thats why we seem to never rise democratically or republican... conservatively or liberally... in fantasy or literally.
A black man on the evening news is more than likely appearing in a mugg shot... in a sitcom the buffoon... a reality show the loud black bitch.
In the ghettos our words are starting to take hold... teachers roaming among the poor who speak of majestic societies in times past... majestic societies in mans future...
And you thought you had crushed our story.

jerald hamzahfaruq murphy

[DARK DAYS COME OUR WAY]OR WHY DOES INSANITY KEEP KNOCKING ON MY DOOR?

[DARK DAYS COME OUR WAY]OR WHY DOES INSANITY KEEP KNOCKING ON MY DOOR?
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...
http://youtu.be/guN02lfVLF4


When a child we have no idea of the things which we will face... the treachery of life.
The joy, the pain...  pleasure and turmoil.
We who think that we know it all until life throws us a curve ball.
We find ourselves looking to the clouds, the trees, the waves of the ocean for answers, the sea of humanity for words of wisdom, of comfort.
In the darkness we find monsters lurking... lurking...  scratching at the fragility of sanity.
Not in a physical sense these monsters do they manifest... fragments in tortured minds.
Remnants of all that we have lived, the right and the wrong.
We who leave the comfort of home to go out into this world sure that we have all the keys.
We who think that we know it all until life becomes the pressure that we live.
The day to day grind mixed with a little sarcasm, a little laughter, a smile, a frown.
These wrinkles in our foreheads that tell the story of who we really are inside.
These words are the testimony to all this built up need to speak to children who have no idea of these things that they must one day face.
Demons exist... demons manifest.
We are the gatekeepers.
We.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS]

[40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE. LISTEN AND LISTEN WELL...
http://youtu.be/
NtaS47nbDqI

I think of thee in a thunderstorm of epic proportions.

A rain of emotions washing across the plain of mine sanity in torrential sheets.
Wind driving water into the windows of mine soul... trickling down in undefined lines... aqua so fluid.
We swept along in the flood as it threatens to wash it all away... memories and all.
A picture floating away... away.
Grey and black clouds that seem to touch the tops of mental trees as a day becomes a year, a year a decade and a score.
Pain does not go away it just become a little less sharp as its blade grows rusty and dull.
Sometimes taken from its box and cleaned... shining as it is rubbed and carressed.
Glint of the tears as they fall onto its steel and shimmer in watery drops that catch the reflection of a man.
Blinding the force of this tempest as it threatens to change the very land that a man doth stand on.
Submerge all in a watery grave.
The sun shall come out tomorrow... the sun... the sun.