(THE TRAVELERS INSPECTION COMPLETED AND FILED) A SUBMITTED TOPIC MASHUP
THE PEOPLE WHO CONTRIBUTED AND THE CONTRIBUTIONS ARE LISTED AT THE END OF THIS PIECE...
THE SOUND OF INTROSPECTION...
http://youtu.be/lO6vz0fliOM

Hue-mans...
So caught up in these fractualities that are called lives where at most hue-mans are defined generationally, having totally overlooked their potentiality.
Such wasted effort... Such a horrendous pity.
Trying to understand the magnitude of deities while remaining
Men... Women...
Races and separate societies.
So much time lost as karma continues to yap unabated at hue-manities unprotected heel.
And where once fatherhood stood as a momentous thing now stands a gaping wound carved in hue-manities skin... Gouged from sons earth.
The queen you see having forgotten her responsibilities to the village... The thrall.
A traveler inspecting the panorama as humans rush headlessly along.
Manhood such a part of the price as it taken away has fallen into disarray.
Such a savagely extracted price as the whip whistled through the air... The courtroom gavel fell, the shot rang out in #Ferguson and a hue-man body hit the ground and is now turning into the sand storm.
It sweeping across the land as fairy dust as hue-manity forgets yet once again.
A mother and fathers pain played on international tv.
Hue-mans...
Hmph.

Monique Harris: Caught up
Janice lazcano: Generational heritage... Deity
Magueda jackson: Karma
Kirk Harris: Fatherhood...Manhood... Responsibilities of a true queen.
Mustafa Muhammad: Ode to the fallen.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(HOLD ME AS I HOLD YOU) A COLLABORATION FEATURING DENISE OLIVER
THE MUSIC...
Hip Hop …: http://youtu.be/jXB84YbdC_U

D
Holding you close is what I desire and heaven would be no longer be a mystery, cause when I look into your eyes I will see the image of Allah staring back at me
J
Which in fact is what you should see for man is but a reflection of Allah.
We... Fragments of his being sheared off and left standing on a rock in the infiniteness of all this space.
D
And infinitely my love for you goes beyond the perimeters of what my heart can hold as my soul captures you safe and secure
J
You are the culmination of promises made so long ago to my ancestors.
They standing on a plain... In the shade of great trees.
You fill my empty spaces
D
Since the beginning I have seeked you passing through impostors that didn't hold a light to what I imagined you to be until the day my soul recognized the sound of your voice and welcomed you home
J
I lion roaring, singing of we to all who would listen
A look out over the crowd and there you stood out an image burned into my poetic mind.
I holding you so close that I seem to merge into you... You into me.
We twain shall be.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AND DENISE OLIVER

{SPACEYSEXYBEAST FYAHFLAMEHITTA}

 {SPACEYSEXYBEAST FYAHFLAMEHITTA}

THE MUSIC IN RETROSPECT...

http://youtu.be/bj3y5vFS3Es

Looking at you and I find myself all the way the fuck out here...

I wanting to fuck with your sanity as you fuck with mine.

Looking at you got me caught up in reflections and introspections.

My head so full of the full phatness of you and these thoughts just got to get out... My head pressing against the zipper of my Dickies.

Got me wanting to push you back and lay in that pussy, all the way back to your womb... Push it in hard and just stay there... Lie there for a second... A minute.

I so caught up in the want to of make you mine that screams at me from my basis.

I ensnared in the nappy of your hair... Lost in the spirals and fascinated by your lines.

An eternity between your thighs as we become the little death that orgasm brings...

You... You taste so sweet as I pronounce your name... It across my vocal chords the most lovely sound.

I unbound in the insanity of a fluid vision pouring pure from the stream of my consciousness...

Splattering droplets of we.

Where I am and where I be as I stroke hyperbole and try to bring it smoothly into this realm...

Where all can see how deeply you affect me.

A pull back and Your lips forming an "Oh" elicit a sigh... Your lips forming an O, the friction against my rigid skin.

Societies religions and causality the result of man looking into your eyes.

Way the fuck out here where I am.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{A THOUSAND PIECES OF YOU LYING UNDISCOVERED CRY MY NAME}

{A THOUSAND PIECES OF YOU LYING UNDISCOVERED CRY MY NAME}

THE MUSIC... DEDICATED TO THE EMPRESSES WHOM I LOVE WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL...

http://youtu.be/DgnqtLyoa1o

You fragmented and broken down lie like puzzle pieces on the floor of my mind...

You jumbled and unorganized.

I sit and look a second before I pick up what I perceive to be a corner and start to build.

I looking for the next clue...

The next part of you.

A corner of your afro...

The nipple that adorns your breast.

The toes of your feet that have carried you this far.

I never tiring of my devotion to you find my forehead pressed to the ground.

The blood rushing to my thinking brain.

The blood rushing to my loins.

I so full of you that I may leave this earth as an implosion.

Collapsing in on myself.

A spot of light as I evaporate into the nether.

Blinking out of existence.

The pyramids built on the system pi pale in comparison to your magnitude.

I sitting here trying to put you back together reflect in the mirror of your image.

It straining to be found as I sift through the cut up pile of what could have been refuse... 

Simply translated as trash which is what they would have made of you.

It was only when I saw you that the pieces made sense.

I trying to put you together again.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

 

{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