{WOULD YOU LOVE ME MORE AS NIGGA?}

{WOULD YOU LOVE ME MORE AS NIGGA?}
THE SOUND... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/ooRbO3IVtNc

Would I be better off if I held a simplistic view of you?
Threw away the complexity and laid you out flayed for the world to see...
You once naked were my helpmate as I hunted for meat to eat... Naked.
Would it behoove you if I were to quit calling you empress and queen... Beat you down with my fists and my mind?
Took off my rose colored glasses and saw you as mass media wants me too, a dirty low down bitch... A welfare maiden living a lie in a caucasion governments vicious scheme.
What if I became the nigga that you call me on a mobile phone screen?
The end result of the nightmare integration as played large on a theater screen.
Tickled out of a newscasters typewriter keys.
I breaking windows to steal a car rim... To snatch a flat screen T.V.
My value defined by the sneakers that adorn my feet.
My ass hanging out or wrapped in skinny jeans.
Would you still love me if I ran out and burned my own neighborhood while leaving massa's alone?
My fear of him so complete that he only has to turn on a siren to send me scurrying.
I bragging about the destruction I have wrought... A rapping slave dancing cross the stage bound by my gold chains.
By my hatred of we.
Would I could do these things but I bound by loyalty have a duty.
I was born to speak of your beauty, to speak on your curves and glorify them to the lost roaming in the desert deprivation...
You the mirage shimmering in the distance suddenly becoming solidity.
I the wanderer, you the oasis, I born to see you completely.
I spread my voluminous wings.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{BORN IN HELL WE ARISE}

{BORN IN HELL WE ARISE}
THE MUSIC...
http://youtu.be/fnzTv3Ox-3A

The burning fire descends like napalm... A blistering mist that incinerates the forest of all these lies, leaving them exposed...
The living are left to wonder what they could have done... The madness goes on cloaked in the guise democracy.
Slaves patriotically saluting the dragon that spit the chemical that burns all the way to the bone.
Deforms the seed.
The children born as a result of this are born poisoned and diseased... Weak while seeming strong.
Taught in school that this country is best as long as they remain rooted in the burnt out neighborhoods and high rise tenements...
The dead end jobs that give them a half retirement.
Teaching that its best to kill your brother than the true enemy who hands things out religiously... A paycheck that keeps a man wallowing in poverty.
Keeps his woman at his throat... Nothing but the result of these mental chains that have never been broken.
He a statistic deadbeat as the system beats him down and throws him in a cell... He let out to work for free while his children roam in the streets.
While his queen seeking love spreads her legs time and time again.
So many that know her secrets.
We the ashes drifting in the wind...  Black soot that covers our souls.
Fertilizer that should feed the next generation lost as we thrive comedy... As we thrive horrifically disfigured... robbed of our rich heritage...
It locked away in Fort Knox, the Vatican and The Bastille.
The beast smiling while baring his teeth, the foul stench of our ancestors death on his pretty incisors.
The bars and the stripes that represents our internment in the 7th level of hell where the fires burn hottest... right next to Shaitan.
Beings created of flames that greeted mans birth shall witness the fire as it descends.
This is revelation spoken in griot tones... Falling from the sky.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{ANTICIPATION}

{ANTICIPATION}

THE SOUND...

http://youtu.be/gAXrDRj0Nj4

I await your dew... I the night grow silent in my deepest darkest hour and you the particles flow in the air of me.

You becoming heavier with each passing moment and I open my blackest arms to you.

You swirl in the breezes and rest in the calm.

I the night inhale and breathe out in my meditation... My reflection at times so purple in manifestation.

My pineal's beat at the space between my temples and down into my bones... I an atom... I an Adam.

The hours of my awakening and the hours of my passing are where dreams are found... some tangible... Solid... Others transparent and frail.

What I have become and what I am are susceptible to your translation of what a man should be... Pieces of paper or knowledge...

I but a digression in this equation where the true reality leaves so many cowering in the corner babbling yet scared to speak.

I girded in the heaviest armour reach out my hand.

I who would protect you with my very life if it came to that.

These nights... this night. I.

Waiting for your dew.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{FEEL ME?} EROTIKAL

{FEEL ME?} EROTIKAL

THE SOUND OF THE BREAKDOWN...

Would you recognize Eye if Eye touched you on your pretty brown... If Eye a man traced my lingering name into your willing skin. 

Trilled it against your clit.

Eye the pulsations...

Eye the beating of your heart...

Eye the flutters in your belly

Eye wonder if you really grasp the beauty of these things Eye say...

These the keys to your bounteous treasure...

These things that would make thee give up the booty...

Eye a pirate sailing on these treacherous seas...

You glinting as diamond on the horizon.

Eye licking... Seeking to bring liquid surging forth from your core...

To taste of thy fount...

Ambrosia never tasted this sweet as it glints off the hairs on my chin...

Eye smell it in my hair.

Eye love it when you entice me like that.

You hanging so sweet in a suns sky...

Got son wanting to crash screaming into your fertile earth...

Sprinkle you with seed and watch it grow...

Reaching towards the heavens from whence we came.

From the roots to the crown.

Eye man articulating these things to you in all your hues...

Eye man seeking to take away your blues...

Eye man wanting you to overstand that you empress,

 you are the most beautiful thang in this cosmos me.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{LOVE CONUNDRUM}

{LOVE CONUNDRUM}
THE MUSIC...
http://youtu.be/d0AULEFBxm4

And what language doth one speak out here in the expanse of wanting somebody...
Who doth one talk too?
If one opened their mouth to scream would anyone hear...
Would they care...
Out here.
 If one became vapor that formed the drops of dew that shine in the morning grass would that matter?
The drops of rain falling from grey low hanging clouds that tower to where the sun shines.
A heartbeat... Would anyone give a damn?
If one were to become the atomic basis for the emotion love what would it say?
What would the equation be?
Scribbles on a chalkboard that speak of the energy formed hue-manity.
Broken down and dropped mathematically.
Forming the roots... The trunks... The leaves.
In alien speak would a mans words still mean the same as he enters freefall...
Streaking across the skies of a queens existence.
Crashing with great impact into her world.
He opening his mouth to speak...
She...

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE TREASURE CHEST} INSPIRED BY A PICTURE THAT NATASHA KEY SENT ME

{THE TREASURE CHEST} INSPIRED BY A PICTURE THAT NATASHA KEY SENT ME...
THE PICTURE IS FEATURED AT BLOGSPOT... CLICK THIS LINK TO SEE IT...
http://hamzahfaruq.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-treasure-chest-inspired-by-picture.html
THE MUSIC... YOU BETTA LISTEN
http://youtu.be/k27LiD3YDZ4

I a weary griot find myself resting in the shade of your image, you such an ample example of what we still are at the end of our most arduous journey.
My psyche still grasping at the possibility of relief... The promise of better days to come.
I wondering if your milk will bring me the strength needed to wake my community... To change this reality.
Pondering upon the possibilities.
For so long have you haunted me... Speaking to me of the African that courses through my veins... The originality of who and what we are.
Such a fruitful tree.
Our branches reaching skyward and sprouting new leaves.
I longing to taste of your sap lick my lips in anticipation... Remembering it's sweet taste that I once beheld.
A cool drink in the city Timbuktu... A potent potion in Ethiopia as we came from the mountains an army strong.
Ignored by a league of white nations we took back our lands.
Your lessons having been learned and forgotten time and time again as the rappers rip our society to shreds on the mic.
Parading cross the stage.
A most tragic play coming to an ugly end.
My story told around the fire as horror causes the blood to run chill... Makes men look into the darkness and grab their guns.
So sad that the first ones we would have to kill are our own if we want to truly overcome.
They so resistant to change.
So hot in the sun realization where it seems that I am the only one walking... Talking.
I the griot and you the tale of our redemption as told while sitting 4by the fire.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{P.H.A.T.} PUT HER AT THE TOP

{P.H.A.T.} PUT HER AT THE TOP
THE MUSIC...
http://youtu.be/vbGNTHcH5TI

You would have me forget that you liked her thick when she was your slave... When she nursed your babies.

You would paint her fat and show me skinny images of what she's supposed to be.

Such an awful tragedy.

She thick is queen... The mother of all these beings hue-manity.

In these times sadly she has bought into the insanity.

Blond hair... Blue contacts and Barbie doll ambitions.
She has forgotten me it seems... Says she don't need me.

Contrary to all that has been taught her phat to me is the most beautiful thing...

Her thick lips and wide nose, Her gigantic ass and her belly.

A drink richer than triple roast coffee grown on Mount Kilimanjaro.
She so full of melanin that it keeps me awake like a pure shot of the most potent caffeine.
For her I would go straight beast and commit a tragedy of the most epic proportions.
My love that complete.
Bout time somebody stood for her... Had her back in this cold hard world.
Told her that she is fine, thick, thin, black and brown... In her variations that allude to cream.
I cant forget that she is original queen... The stuff of beautiful dreams... The crease in my seam.
I love her like that... I got to build her up even when out here alone I roam... Need her in my life.
My woman,my empress, my sister, my wife.
So imperative that I tell her that... It's absolutely crucial to our survival.
We born of royalty... We the antithesis... We the solution...
Hope she overstands that I have not forgotten these things.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY