PERSPECTIVES OF NUBIANS NUDE

THE SOUNDTRACK FOR THIS EXIBIT...

PLEASE PLUG IN AND ENJOY THE TOUR.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBIIpUG2wh8&feature=share&list=PL24cV6IIynrZeueVKmWyonbtI0qlFs6m3

[LIL BITTY INSANITY.]

[LIL BITTY INSANITY.]

THE MUSIC FOR THIS FANTASY...

http://youtu.be/0CUpBHMmFnw

She so small that all I can see is her in my arms as I lower her onto my dick...

Feel it slip past her pussy lips and into the wet tunnel of her sex.

Her with arms wrapped around my neck holding on she tries to slow it down... My dick spreads her and fills her, seemingly as if to split her apart.

She raises her head and I kiss her for a second, the lips on her face as pretty as the ones between her legs.

So small that as I lay her back all I see is her clit as it sits on tops of my dick that still fills her pussy.

I pull out and kiss it and she screams as it explodes into my mouth, across my face.

She makes me want to fuck her... fuck her up...sideways... down.

Legs on my shoulders as I place my dick in her and fuck her... lost in the way that it looks...

Just a lil bitty thang with a great big freak in her soul.

She brings it out for me.

Lets it prance around like a forest nymph.

Wrap around the thick of my wood...

She so small that I find her all off in the depths of my fucking fairy fantasies.

Pussy so good it sprinkles glitter.

I bend her over and kiss that lil thang from the back.

Lil bitty thang... 

She so small.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AKA IN THE PROJECTS, GHETTOS AND HIGH PLACES AS Y.O.D.A.

[THE HAND OF RECOGNITION EXTENDED]

[THE HAND OF RECOGNITION EXTENDED]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...
http://youtu.be/wokBICFlVU4

Voices that cry from the thick mists of time where perception is but a part of the illusion.
Speaking of truth in whispering tones as life roars by in a mad dash. 
So many so caught up in trying to catch up to a dream, sold on Android and i phone screens.
Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
Stuck sucking on the tittie of sociality in a capitalistic democracy while being ruled by the illuminati.
Oh say can you see that freedom that calls from the fog as you are lead so willingly astray.
As the fog of revelation spreads they cringe against the stone wall of ignorance, some crushed and left to die by the flock.
The barbarian must feed as they become the meat that is stuck between teeth.
The flock standing around watching as their brothers and sisters are consumed, eyes wide, noses flared.
Whitewashed black sheep filling the belly of the beast.
Remember this well oh ye children of man, ye children of the sun.
The fog of recognition rolls in thick and a hand extends.
So many so mislead that they see it as a threat.
Woe to the children born and raised in a system of miseducation.
In the beginning and in the end darkness precedeth the light.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[SPACE, TIME AND I LOST IN YOUR SONG]

[SPACE, TIME AND I LOST IN YOUR SONG] DEDICATED TO MONICA C KING WALLACE
THIS IS THE MUSIC FOR THIS DEDICATION... ON SOME WHOLE OTHER OTHER...
http://youtu.be/oFjPw9vwhd4

Every time I hear your voice I am transported to places and times where surely I must have lived before...
You all on the tip of my thinking as these words flow out of my blood and onto this page.
So succulent that I can soar the cosmos on a vision of you... My ship your form.
The music of you playing in outer space... Filling and fullfilling... Making me whole.
Out here where there is no up or down... 
You like a vision of the beginning of feminity... Eve on a whim.
Born of clay on a riverbank where men drink of your life giving fluidity...
Watching as you run through our fingers and back into the body of potentiality... 
You becoming a part of the whole...
Clouds in the sky... Mist in the morning... Dew evaporating away.
A boat suspended on the skin of your force...
So soft that I cannot hold you yet hard enough to wear away at the bricks of this wall of seperation where I found myself bound.
Lost in this sweet meditation where I play your voice as the background to our being in this diaspora.
Everytime I hear your voice I am transported away...
Sing to me oh oracle...
Give me a piece of your peace and I shall give you a piece of mine.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

VARIOUS PHASES OF NUBIAN EROCALITY