(THE SHATTERED SCATTERED REMNANTS OF A REBUILT HEART)
THE SOUND...

You broke my heart into a portrait reminiscent of the billions of stars that are in the sky.
Eye fractured and scattered and left for dead.
Eye fragmented.
A bitter reminder that love is not promised to everyone.
The fire of my pain grew and threatened to consume the cosmos of my overstanding... The realm of my existence.
Eye sitting on the dark floor of nothingness collapsed into my hollow core and became the night.
The form standing over the bed...
The unknown in the sky where clouds block the light.
The unseen.
And Lo!
A spark in the extreme distance became the rushing roar.
The big bang.
A pineal wave of destruction and rebirth as the dragon and the lion merged and ignited the landscape as man rearranged became forged titanium steel.
A most lovely thing as eye weld evicerating lyrics and solar wind syntax.
Love you have served to make eye strong.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(DEEP AND LOW)
THE SOUND... THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS MUSIC SO LISTEN...

A second as I engage you, take you to my lair.
Show you the soft side of the beast while remaining hard.
So fucked up in your juicy.
Where I a man, a beast wanna be.
A Skeet a Skeet a skeeeetttt all over the blossom of your lotus.
All over the mounds, valleys and curves of your phat full exterior.
You make me wanna be the drop...
The spatter glistening in the soft light.
The sigh caught on a short breath...
An exclamation.
As I beast, man, beast?  Flip between these realms.
Looking at you I am reminded that you are indeed queen.
As I minister to your royal needs.
Between the sheets.
On these streets.
Drifting on the dizzying heights of your pheromones.
I as bird flutter on your wings.
Vibrating, humming, strumming.
The honey so sweet.
You as I push your legs back and let you sit pon my beard.
A second please...
I want to engage you.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(DEMENTIA)
THE SOUND OF LYRICS BEING RECONSTRUCTED AS THEY ARE RIPPED FROM NON EXISTENCE...
http://youtu.be/H9WMWyzN6-

A mad poet sits with the elements of a scribe floating in the air surrounding him.
He reaches out and touches a fragment of the alphabet... Feeling it nucleonic weight.
He let's it go and around it the other letters radiate and become alive with the glow.
The mad writer reaching out again absorbs them and transcribes in a hazy daze.
He blinking in and out of this existence.
His surroundings becoming a dull hum.
The people becoming the sum of all that have ever lived... All who have loved... Have hated.
The mad writer seeing their ancestors past.
Oh how the mad writer wishes he had not learned how to travel thusly but he was born this way.
Ahhhh to be sheep but the curse of the mad writer is lion.
His claws are graphite and ink, paint and charcoal, they have carved into rock.
His teeth titanium steel.
The mad writer sits back and takes a breath and he is back in this eventuality.
His letters hidden in one of his other dimensions.
He gathers his things and sheaths his claws.
He walks among man as man.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

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