{BATTLE SCARRED}

{BATTLE SCARRED}
THE SOUND... THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS MUSIC...
http://youtu.be/SQVxurGBCN8

These drums threaten to tear me apart... Beatdown... beatdown...
These drums bang bout my predecessors... Beatdown... beatdown and I the sound rage.
A dance in the firelight... Sparks into a darkened sky.
The screams and the laughter these drums they pound... Battlescar's I bear well...
Been locked away in a white mans jailcell facing three life.
Done seen man become wife.
Done seen skin dance from the penetration of hot lead.
Done witnessed adulation... Done lived dispair... Down there... Down there.
Beatdown... Beatdown and I raise my bald head and bob and weave.
Becoming what I need to be... Leader of the Krall... Nightmare in 3d.
A savage flesh consuming beast or a great orator... Gentle or buck ass wild.
These drums tearing at the fabric of this existence reshaping and remolding my structure.
I a flash of brightest light.
The curse or the cure according to which way you look... What yo view is...
I a force of great renown if only in my own mind... Eye see a way outta this see?
These drums... My mentality.. The varying degrees... The thrust... The parry... The thrust.
The body dropping to the ground.
The mind blown out.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE NAKED VARIATIONS OF YOUR NUBIANITY} AN EXHIBIT

{PLAIN AND SIMPLE} BABY I'M TALKING TO YOU

{PLAIN AND SIMPLE} BABY I'M TALKING TO YOU
FIRST OF ALL THESE PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO ACCOMMODATE A PICTURE THAT A DEAR FRIEND AND READER SENT ME. HER NAME IS LUCINA QUASHIE AND I COULDN'T USE IT HERE SO YOU HAVE TO GO TO BLOGSPOT TO SEE THE ORIGINAL PIC...
ALLRIGHTY THEN, THE MUSIC...


I lost in the what I would do to you... The wherewithall of the situation...
Baby you got my nerves jingling... Feels like butterfly wings caressing my skin...
I falling into and out of your eyes and the brown variations of your skin...
The blacks and pinks of you.
I gotta getmesome of you, so imperative that it pounds... it pounds.
I hang heavy thinking of you.
My brain and my manhood...
A most beautiful and funktabulous thang to behold... somma dat holy queen scroll cause that's where I see you as you naked and full undulate for me.
I being born to appreciate the exact nature of you... your particular personality... You in your thin and your thickness.
The scroll on your belly.
A white dove released into my atmospheres taking wing and flying out of sight...
I smell of thine pheromone's across all these miles and I just want to see... I gotta see.
Need so deep I feel it in my tiniest bone... deep in my love jones.
When you lick your lips I ache cause I wanna taste your tongue... Every single time.
A riddle, a rhyme, the enigma...
Such a savage conundrum as it plays out time and time again in so many different ways... we naked and exposed.
I wanting you and you wanting me while love calls our names and we touch each other trying to find relief...
Some release.
My hands entwined in your natural hair and trying to get you to see the me in my eyes.
The absolute dothedo.
The black of my blue..,
I will have you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE DOOR, THE KEY, YOU AND ME}

{THE DOOR, THE KEY, YOU AND ME}
THE MUSIC...
http://youtu.be/MkbdOZHfIbI

In these letters would I break into a million trillion glistening pieces that would caress you as a fine dew...
Fall upon your melanated skin as a fine mist... Cover you in my fog.
Sink into your structure and rearrange you from the inside out as I pour down as black love pon thy Oh my African queen.
Tingle the follicles that produce thine nappy roots... I a traveler would chart thy spirals and lay waste to any that stood in our way.
In these times where men are content that you are held in contempt I alone would face the hate that produced such hate...
Becoming the thump that is the sound of our hearts strong.
The bump that nudges us along.
In these letters would I rain down like napalm and set sticky fire to any that would defile thee.
Your form my catalyst... I born in thine spark.
A lone form dancing in the light of the revelations that thou hast brought forth from my aching...
From the pain of learning that once we knew these things...
You the image sculpted from the clay of a riverbank in Kenya.
Rib of my rib... The cartilage in my backbone.
The surety in my footfalls.
In these letters would I paint thy picture and display it in a museum as the model for all female hue-mans...
Walk children past it and watch their little chests swell with pride as they realize that they have the same brown eyes and the same darkened flesh.
Tell stories of us rising from the depths of mental slavery and materialistic pride...
In these letters would I speak of our connection to the cosmos and the time continuum...
How we finally regained our ability to cross dimensions...
Lost in a moment of love so great that a man gave up heaven for his empress...
They becoming mortal after eons of living eye-ternal
In these letters would I die content upon knowing that thou had read them and overstood how much I loved thee.
A letter...
A paragraph...
A possibility...
The key.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{SOMEBODY BETTA GET DAT DAMN FOOL}

{SOMEBODY BETTA GET DAT DAMN FOOL}
THE MUSIC... YOU DONT LISTEN TO THIS AND YOU TOTALLY MISS THE POINT....
http://youtu.be/wRFl7sUXd-4

See all dem fools be playin games...
I ain't got no time for that cause I wanna make you feel me...
I a motherfucking beast in the bed...
What fuckin sheets?
I dropping hard into the interior of your forest... A force to be beheld.
Sometimes pattering and at other times driving as if to flood your core.
Beating at your walls... Stroking and rubbing clit... Lightly biting nipple...
I told you this ain't no game as I make you put an arch in your back and beat it pouting...
A motherfucking beast... Big Daddy!!! Big Daddy you a motherfucking beast fuck this thang!
I lost in the splattering drops that are produced by a true beatdown...
Caint let you go... Caint let you go as I push you to the floor and pin yo legs back...
Stand up in that thang and roar... Pull out slow... Plunge back in...
Yo liquid got me throwed like bout three doubles of Makers Mark bourboun...
An eighth a dat loud and bout three a dem green sweet white owls.
I high off the very thought off you naked and sweaty as I minister to that punani.
Throw off my robe and run down the aisle.
Peel you back and lick at your creamy center...
See dem fools be playin games and shit...
I aint bout dat.

{TSUNAMI} SENRYU

{TSUNAMI} SENRYU

THE SOUND OUTSIDE THE DOJO AS INSIDE THE BATTLE RAGES...

http://youtu.be/2CoHkpCYvOk

{IMMINENT}

Man stands and sees clouds

They pon the horizon dark

Lightning flashes bright

{TURBULENCE}

The air becomes cool

The wind grows, picks up debris

Man is the strong storm

{BECOMING}

Man becometh rain

He the torrential downpour

He reshaping earth

{RECOGNITION}

The bird sings again

A plaintive song sung so nice

Once man overstood

{THEN CALM}

Water calm is life

He in meditation breathes

He rages no more

{ENVISION THIS VISION} A COLLAB FEATURING LACHELLE JOHNSON

{ENVISION THIS VISION} A COLLAB FEATURING LACHELLE JOHNSON
the music...
http://youtu.be/XIl9GaKt7k0
Her in a mirror and I in repose contemplating her form... Her playing in her hair and I lost in flights of fancy... She the fantastic fantasy that I gaze upon. I blessed lie and take her in... Her form so much a part of who she is... I wonder if she knows that at this second all I see is her... T shirt, panties and her personality... I wonder if she sees?

She sees a mere reflection of him,, embraced in the image of his needs, desires fulfilling the thirst water alone could not quench. Intoxicating aura, blissful harmony, She shows him the purest form created, seeing the inner him that lives within her, his gaze pierced the essence sending the waves splashing on the shore making lasting impressions in the sand. She sees him

In my mind she dances and it is so graceful... her lines, and I sigh at the beauty...
So eager am I too have her entice me, to become the antithesis to all that I have seen...
Would she walk beyond I wonder as her pheromones fill the corners of my mind...
She seeming to grow as she in a fraction of overstanding seduces me...
In seeing would she become the scintillating apparition of my most succulent dreams...
The all that I be.

A silhouette captures the fragrance… in a naked trace of his presence secretly indulging. .mesmerized by his orchestration, elevates the chemistry; His methodology is my aphrodisiac explores her agility paralyzing all her senses. Her reality trembles under his voice.

Mmmmm as in response I find myself saturated and full...
She the fulfillment and the release... a most refreshing drink for a most weary traveler...
A bath, the water calm and warm... So invigorating.
In the nappy roots of me she washes away the dirt and grime... The awful tragedy.
Standing before me in t shirt and panties she sees the real me...
I see the real her.
Things just got so deep.

She can only fathom the magnitude of arousal, percussion's beating loudly, intimacy ignites majestic flames unspoken language fills the pinnacle of his existence. curiosity seized the moment, intrinsic persona devours her imaginations. Her t shirt and panties I see him real clearly.

BY JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AND LACHELLE JOHNSON