[DONT RESIST] A COLLAB FEATURING JEN OF POETRY

[DONT RESIST] FEATURING JENOFPOETRY

THE MUSIC... DO NOT MISS THIS...

http://youtu.be/zKkyOT94D0Y

LIL MAMA

Impulsive behaviors Control me, possess me I want to feel the aggression of your masculinity 

Inflict sensual pain
The premeditation of your actions
Has me anxious to take in
Your eccentric performance
Tied in ecstasy ... unable to free myself Fulfill my fantasy of sexual gratification Control what I want by giving me what you want
Taking in the
T-asteless
H-ardcore
C-arnal
Of arousing vulnerability The fields of flowers are open
Waiting for the fertilization of your power
So intense causing sensation to rise and swell inside
Aching to touch myself...
Tied in passion I am unable
To satisfy
Influenced by the exhilaration
Your sexually demented intelligence that occupies your body Turns me on Examine the couture of your specimen I submit to your rhythmical beatings
Forcefully and deeply strong
Slowly extracting moans of satisfaction
My pleas to stop go unheard
My prayers to don. ’t stop entice
Making it your prerogative to
Promote, Pursue, Remain in the state of moonstruck seduction.

Devouring all that is me.

BIG DADDY

I walk in to you submissive... Ripe for my taking...

I inhale of your femininity...

I squeeze and you give...

I am lost in the moment of this moment. 

My plan has come to fruition...

I see your anticipation and raise the bar...

You spread out and bound... 

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide... You are now mine.

I plan to give you what you want... beg me.

Fuck you till you lay sweaty and covered in sheen... Man and woman cream.

L-iving

U

S-ucking- u

T-asting- u

As you flutter open and give me your pollen...

I give you mine...

Some of that wake up in the morning wondering if all that really happened.

I will take you there and leave you lingering in the mist...

Covered in the droplets of our sexual deviations...

I shall devour you as you submit to me.

jerald hamzahfaruq murphy and JenOfPoetry™

MAKE ME

[MAKE ME]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE... DONT MISS IT.
http://youtu.be/Akdrq0sHThg

Make me want to fuck when I don't feel like it... Can you do that?
Something so freaky that my blood threatens to drown me in sound as it rushes from my brain to my loins.
A swerve and a lean on weakened knees... a stagger in my soul.
Making me want to gain altitude in the height of your womb... That place where only few can reach... The crown of your trees.
Make your skies come crashing down as rain.
Make me want to take you to the apex of crossing over while gently laying you down and kissing your flower.
Nudging at the piston and releasing the pollen.
Humming birds and bees in a garden of sexual release...
Streams of amber and cream dribbling across layers, lines and wrinkles and falling in patterns to the fabric.
Lost in the fuck of wanting it, needing it so bad that it pulls at heartstrings, plaintive notes in primary colors.
Show me something that will awaken the caring in me when this shit seems to be falling down...
Build me up in your foundation.
Make me want to fuck when its what I need to clear my mind...
Lost in the nut of a nut.
Reconstructed in the totality of the situation as it plays out.
Show me just a little more...
Make me forget.
Can you do that?

WAR INNA BABYLON. PICTURE SUBMITTED BY Starlet Williams

[WAR INNA BABYLON] A PICTURE TOPIC. PICTURE SUBMITTED BY Starlet Williams
THE MUSIC FOR THIS PIECE...

Let me speak to you of war my queen... If not for you this state probably would not exist but neither would man.
Only one among the angels and Allah... What would be his purpose?
He would have never heard the cry of a baby... The laugh of a playing child.
Never felt the soft skin of a queen.
Again what would be the purpose?
This everyday war called struggle where we are found twain... We as warriors and queens... The queen so much more deadly than the king... 
Her mysterious holding the keys.
Wars won on her wiles... Surprise... Surprise.
Together we saw the dawn of the world... Separated we are reduced to funky ghettos and jail cells... War among ourselves.
7 sons and a mother in Maccabees killed because of pagan belief and an order of eat that pig meat... Black teen in Florida killed cause of the same thing cause niggers supposed to obey orders... Eat that swine.
Believe in white God.
This is war my queen... Come.
Stand beside me.

jerald hamzahfaruq murphy

EMERGENCE

[EMERGENCE] THIS PIECE WAS DONE TO A PICTURE SUBMITTED BY Denise HestaylovinMe Oliver THIS IS NOT THE PICTURE
THE MUSIC FOR THIS WRITE...
http://youtu.be/yCb4eqFv934

All off on planes of all off into you... So deep that if you were an ocean we would be in  the deepest trench.

A place of mermen and women in cool shades of the most beautiful blue... fading to the deepest of black.

If you were the sky I would be an astronaut suspended in the amniotic fluid of your star filled womb... Sperm on a journey to seed new worlds.

You a forest... The crown of your nappy hair the spikes of majestic trees brushing the the bottom of your skies.. Mists circulating in the heights.

Life dwelling in your branches and your roots.

So fully do I feel you that it all become entwined, fantasy, reality and possibilities merging and becoming potentiality realized.

All off into you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[POETICAL ON A SUGGESTION] INSPIRED BY Ron Poetry

[POETICAL ON A SUGGESTION] INSPIRED BY Ron Poetry 
THE MUSIC FOR THIS WRITE...
http://youtu.be/1V5fBUYY0Pk


Once as poetry spoke in a boys bones he longed to see the sun on different continents, it calling to his heart...
But the boy lived in the ghetto and the walls they were high...
Poetry lived in the pages of the books he read, the speeches made by great men... 
Poetry lived in the dance of life, swing of hips and swerve of the car.
The boy touched cold steel and poetry existed in that too... The power to take life.
Poetry in the sky as the seasons they changed... Leaves falling from trees and growing again.
Poetry was the sweetness of grandma's strawberry nut cake... Frosting so rich it would rattle your soul.
Poetry made the boy leave the ghetto and go into the world, taught him that he was an anomaly.
One who saw the true ways of the poetry of man in all his incarnations... its implications.
Poetry was the bastard and the whore... The dirty redneck who spit on his truck... The form of a woman in a darkened bedroom... Water running in a bathtub.
Poetry the birth of a child and the loss of one as well... The song of his fathers life told to southern blues.
Poetry as he fades into the horizon... Off into the setting sun...
Walking...
Poetically.

jerald hamzahfaruq murphy

[PANTY WETTER]

[PANTY WETTER] TOPIC SUBMITTED BY Mercy Arnold
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE...
http://youtu.be/067i_VzCNUI

They calls me Big Daddy, otherwise I am known as the pure pussy getter... the supreme panty wetter.
Lyrics whispered into receptive ears on cold winter nights as that pussy grows moist in anticipation.
I will talk my way all under the layers of your clothes touch that clit and make your blood flutter... Lay it open and gently touch that clit with my tongue.
Verbally and physically.
A downright beast as I take you to the edge of your fantasy and push you over... Make you land all on top of me... Dick all the way back to your spine.
Spank them ass cheeks and call you my bitch and my whore cause thats what panty wetters is... Pure dee downright nasty as I feel my nuts slapping that pussy... Your pussy belongeth to me.
Hand over your mouth so your man don't hear as I savagely ravage the walls of your punani.
Some of that panty wetting beatdown that makes the earth seem to tremble as you shudder.
Wracked within the spasms of a shatteringly screaming nut...
Woman in case you didn't know...
Big Daddy wets panties up.

[OH AFRICA IN AMERIKKKAN QUEENS]

[OH AFRICA IN AMERIKKKAN QUEENS]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... MAKE SURE THAT YOU LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/oVUxYxOag7U

No matter where these roads may take me you still reign as the most beautiful of the feminine... In the blackest shades of your melanic skin to the smoothest of brown.
The light and the dark... The beat of your heart is the drum of procession for this regression...
In fragmented dreams and jail cells where I may find myself lingering on this winding stroll.
Trying to leave a little of me spread out... Hoping somebody remembers and passes it on... You all in my skies.
Sexual digressions and introspectives into your collective soul where blackness is the basis of creation... Reborn time and time again.
From the brown of your eyes to the blackness of the naps that remain twisted in your kitchen where even the relaxer fails to erase patterns of humanities birth.
As a man travels these highways a runaway slave yours is the visage that wakes him from the slumber of sleep and activates his mentality.
Gives him reason to be concerned and motivates... You looming in the horizon... City of mans salvation if only he overstood.
In your walls are the makings of freedom from oppression and resistance.
If only a man were to look.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY