Thy eyes as the guide and I am swept into the void.
I am become as ether and I am absorbed.
Would that I could describe thine profound effect on the depth of mine scribe... Mine ascension from the triple stages where I beast roamed looking for victims.
Taking of the fruit... Dropping seed.
The mists swirling as my appearance was made known to all I encountered.
In mine memories where I an egg in an ancestors womb was African.
An embryo in stasis waiting to be born to die.
That is where thy light was a guide... A fire burning in the krall as knowledge was divulged to a young warriors ears.
In my memories I hear mine peoples screams and smell the blood as it cries from the soil... From the Atlantic ocean floor.
A slave somewhere in Georgia as I a slave work for free.
Stand in the field and feel the breeze as it washes over mine sun darkened skin.
Thy shine... Thy shine, and I present see the same mentality... Slave... Free.
You a most poignant reminder.
Thou queen...
Thou empress created in Allah's lab are the pinpoint of brilliance sparked in I and I as I here reside.
The atypical origination of mine philosophy.
I who have never died even though I buried have turned to dust.
Thine eyes...
They shine...
They shine.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(EYE SPEAK)
THE MUSIC FOR THIS REVELATION... THIS BEAT IS EXQUISITE...
http://youtu.be/M-ekE3Wz8ug

Eye speak dese torn from the red clay degrees as the masses they fall ever more victim to the forgetting disease.
Eye once cried cause the solution seemed so simple in a child's mind as I watched reality ripple then dimple...
Creased so sharp that it broke and shattered into tattered shards...
Saw them glittering like diamonds scattered on the urban dance floor where all so many want is more.
More food, more money, more time.
Eye see silicone booties bouncing on my t.v. as these women try to be?
As these men try to be women, see?
Eye speak... Eye speak.
Eye see and these things they drop me to my knees as I pray for the 7 heavens to open up and answer a sons pleas.
To send some release.
To cure the plague sweeping the land as the full magnitude of the illuminati's plan is revealed.
The blood as foretold is spilled
Sun touching mountain peak as eye...
Eye speak.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{AND I CALL YOUR NAME}DEDICATED TO KAREN THURMAN

{AND I CALL YOUR NAME}DEDICATED TO KAREN THURMAN WHO WAS THE FIRST GIRL I EVER HAD A CRUSH ON IN MY LIFE AND WHO STILL REMAINS A ROCK THAT I LEAN ON.
I HOPE  THAT SHE OVERSTANDS THE PROFOUND IMPACT KNOWING HER HAS HAD IN MY LIFE.
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... PLEASE LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/4wwO1FS8x1Q

My heart in its caverns cries your name and I see you in my dreams as the balance.
I am turmoil as I have sought you across continents, on islands, as I have stared at calm and stormy seas.
Salt water in my dreads and on my bald head.
In the hairs of my wisdom that hang from my chin.
The world so afflicted could use us as the cure.
We the vaccine that inoculates whole generations against the ignorance of societies past.
I in my sleep must have cried your name a hundred thousand times and yet I find myself not remembering it.
Even as a boy when Karen was all I saw.
Such pretty red skin.
I must have called your name, and I strain to remember how your voice sounded so long ago.
That first crush so detrimental to who I am.
The writer, the griot.
The African freedom fighter.
I am disharmony without you and these days seem so hollow.
What am I?
Who am I?
I see the sun setting in the sky, the pink thread and I fight sleep cause it takes me to a place where I must see you time and time again and wake alone.
Face the masses as a lonesome stranger.
I looking for the other half of my soul.
Would that I could hold out my hands and manifest you... Right here, right now.
I looking to my cupped hands pray for you to appear.
Reflecting the light of Allah onto my brownish red skin.
Light reflecting in my hazel brown eyes.
My heart, my heart it cries your name as We become the refrain.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(A TALE OF MASTER, MISTRESS AND FULL LIPS)

(A TALE OF MASTER, MISTRESS AND FULL LIPS)
THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/Fi1Ca8bW7Mw
I told her I loved her lips and she smiled.
Such a pretty thing that smile and I reached out and brushed the skin on the back of her hand.
Looked into her eyes.
Tried to get her to feel my need and I watched her chest as her breath calm rose and fell in her breast.
Looking back into her eyes I broadcast my need as she receptive perceived it and let me lead her to the chair where I sat her down and bent to my knees.
Sat back on them and talked to her.
The sundress she wore such a flimsy thing that I could see her naked nipples press against the cloth as they grew erect.
Pressed their image into my optics.
She knowing that I wanted to see parted her thighs and the jutting mound of her mons venerous pressed against the satiny panties that she wore and I reached out and touched her there.
She was already warm and damp and I pulled them to the side.
I told her I loved her lips and I ran my fingers between them as she shuddered and sighed.
I leaning forward kissed them and she moaned.
I sought the button of her clit and rubbed it with my tongue sucked it into my mouth and hummed.
It growing firm and plump reminded me of a morsal of fruit and I sucked the juice that she produced.
It in my mustache... In my beard... In my psyche.
She begged for me to fill the void and I produced my manhood placed it in her hand and told her to put it where she needed it.
She pulled me forward and rubbed it in her slit and the drop of pre-cum on its head became a wet stick string a moment before she arched her back and pulled me in.
My breath caught in my throat released in a rush as I plunged in and pushed all the way to the back.
Pulled all the way out and pushed back in as she squirting came and produced lubrication.
It allowing me to caress her in her very depths.
Her legs pushed back to the bed as she shook her head from side to side and screamed loudly.
Her screams and mine mingling to produce a song of savage sexuality.
Of sweet satisfaction.
I looking at her face bent down and thrust my tongue into her lips.
I penetrating both sets as she became my slave... My mistress... My empress.
I becoming her slave... Her master her king.
The sweat of our exertion bearing testament to that fact.
I slamming into her erupted and fell away as she rubbed my overflow into her skin.
I leaning over kissed her lips.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(PRODIGAL)
THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/MDXIxl1QRtM

I who was born Guerilla in an urban landscape.
I who was born fighting and scraping cause my skin black did not allow the masses to see my peoples potential.
The full manifest of my solar energy as I flare, sending winds racing cross galaxies encased epidermic.
The cosmos of stars walking around unaware... Dim memories of what they could be... They having become sheep.
I lion lounging on the plain having seen all these things in late night dreams, visions on a subconscious screen where souls scream as they fall into the pit of startling revelation that so many call death.
They wishing they could come back from the flow.
Warn the masses that they have been decieved, that this is not who we are designed to be.
I from the comfort of cover spit these teflon clad rounds into the cowering crowd political.
I walking pump rounds into their inert forms... Wouldn't want them to suffer cause even the Guerilla has compassion.
They departing scream...
Music so sweet to the sufferings ears that they welcome the prodigal son as he walks up scarred and torn.
He reborn The Urban Guerilla.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THERMONUCLEAR DYNAMICS)
THE SOUND OF THIS THINK...
http://youtu.be/jQxnq9640lQ

And this Florida sunshine makes one reflect... On creation, on our formation.
Mine first in a garden called Eden by the beast who came and corrupted our name.
Yet that tale is what we are living now and I... I want to stay in this garden where your skin shines like black gold in my mind.
Where we are lord and queen.
This Florida sunshine I wander was it brighter back then when the air was clearer.
When we the lords came through here and mingled with the natives.
Were the trees greener?
Did the water taste sweeter?
I wonder?
Fountains of youth and all that.
Springs from the well... The earth.
You giving I something to seek.
Even if I never attained it you gave me hope.
Allah is so magnificent for this gift which some have broken down to a four letter word.
The first glimpse of thee must have sent volts of current racing to every nerve ending in the first man's body.
It must have shook the very ground that they two=one formed stood on.
Angels bearing witness to the tremendous pressure.
Man and woman erupting on the scene.
This Florida sunshine got I and I reaching into the Florida air and pulling alphabetics to complete this scroll.
Oh why... Oh why was I born?
Brought to these seven hills?
This city T'allah'assee?
Standing here I look pon your form meditatively.
You so reminiscent of our beginnings in the cradle of life.
I and you born fully mature infants...
I and you ripped from the fire as carbon... Ripped from the dirt as earth.
This Florida sunshine caressing we.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SHE LIVES IN MY LAB) DEDICATED TO MY LOVELY MODEL CANDACE LIGER
THE MUSIC...

I mad scientist standing in my laboratory look at the equations scribbled on the blackboard... Click on computer keys and examine thy double helix under the microscope.
I mad scientist stroke my grey and black beard and start the construction of you...
Hmmmm freedom of choice, let me mix some of that in.
Brown skin a must as I continue the build.
My mind contemplating the possibilities threatens to explode the hypothetical you into existence as reality before my hands can build you...
A nipple... The muscles that ripple in your legs... The deep brown pools of your eyes as I mad scientist reflect on the fact that once a scientist greater than I built our ancestors in his laboratory, gave me the means to reconstruct us both if only we were to unlock the key.
It hidden somewhere in our flesh, our blood, our psyche.
I the mad scientist sip my coffee and pull on my blunt.
So much work to do...
So much work to do.
I seeking the key gaze upon thee...
I scratching my bald head and trying to unravel the mystery us
The key...
The key.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY