DELICATE TENDER BEASTS MEET ON THE BATTLEFIELD OF LOVE AND LUST

[DELICATE AND TENDER BEASTS MEET ON THE BATTLEFIELD OF LOVE AND LUST]
THE SOUND AS THE BEASTS BEATDOWN...
http://youtu.be/5_V4ZgkP8DE

In she came, an apparation lingering in the beasts peripherals...
The beast pacing stopped and sniffed at the air and smelled of her...
Such a whiff of such an exotic fragrance.
The beast in eloquent roars and utterances begged of her to come nearer... He listened to her as she dropped her wisdom.
It sating the beasts synapses and he lay back and rode the vibe... her voice.
They on such a level playing field... He in his lair and she within.
The beast in his longing wanting to stroke of her... To excite her insides as she excited his... Oh the beast wanted this so.
Yet this woman so intelligent made him want to hear her song... It sung in alto tones so decent and smooth.
The beast and the woman conversing walked across a diaspora of things War, sex and peace...
The beast asked of her to show a little bit and she did... And the conversation it continued for the beast did not want to lose her, Mmmmmm... And he savored her, asking to see a bit more and she in her wanting showed him.
It was then that The beast saw her beast... Pulling at it, rubbing it he brought the she beast from her recesses and she began to purrrrr...
Her so wet and thick and making the beast grow heavy in his loins... He swinging low and thick.
They on such a level playing field... Two beasts unleashed.
She begging him to fill her... He driving into her fell and they danced such a primal dance that reality seemed to fall away into the dark.
A lily in the field and the bee alighteth... The sound of his wings as thumping thunder... His footsteps the Thump, Thump, Thump...
She begging of he to spill his seed, to fertilize her as he drives into her womb.
Her petals wrapped around his rigidness...
He panting and licking... Squeezing and prodding... Spanking and Roaring savagely.
They talking so dirty and filling the air with sound.
The beast and the she beast finding relief in these times where there is so much turmoil... They Warrior and Queen.
They on such a level playing field and finding comfort in each others naked lust.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY.

{MY SOUL BLEEDING SCREAMS FOR A QUEEN}
THE SOUND IN STEREOPHONIC 3D
http://youtu.be/WRPLKxKDBf0

I have written to you so many times that I should be out of words, yer that is not the case as ink flows from the deepest wells of my soul...
Stains these pages in tomes designed to uplift you from the depths of unknowing as we linger in these modern times waiting for our futures to become manifest.
I looking upon your form am reminded of all the men who have stood by and watched you become the concubine, the raiser of our oppressors babies, the left alone as whole families were birthed from your womb.
I write so that you may know my pain at knowing these things, so that you may know that I love you so, so that you may know I won't let go.
These letters the blood of my being as I beg of you to hear me, to look me in my eyes and see the anguish of not having one such as you by my side.
As you continue to choose men mislead to believe that you are a possession, a bitch, a whore, anything but the queen.
I trying to put you into perspective as I looking into the telescope peer across your universe and fathom your cosmos.
I a Lion know that I am king but I Lion roam alone in this my kingdom as your scent crosses my nose, such an old thing as it wafts by.
Its been so long.
I seeking to write you the most beautiful piece of prose ever written, so sweet that it bringing you to tears baptizes you, sanctifies you and gives you the keys to the gates of a future heaven.
That's how much I love you the mother of all hue-man life on this planet 3 removed from the sun that we orbit around, the carbon and water mixed and placed in the kiln of thy womb... Extracted as a living breathing person.
I tracing your stretch marks in my memory try to remember the path that the map told me to follow.
Its been so damn long.
I trying to explain myself as the ink continues to pour unabated from the blackest depths of my souls cosmos.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{FIRE AND BRIMSTONE RAINING FROM MENTAL SKIES} TOPIC SUBMITTED BY SARAH B TONIN
THE SOUND OF BLACK ANGEL LIGHT DESCENDING FROM HEAVEN...
http://youtu.be/5hZ84aSZpWk

For almost 5 hundred years black people have been the victim of an uncaring system...
Taught to blame themselves for being slaves, being placed on the bottom rung, being excluded from basic hue-man rights.
Woe unto the ones who lost in Babylon have forgotten the fact that they were once the right hand of a black God.
That they themselves are sons and daughters of God.
They afraid to acknowledge that fact have become the worlds villified  and defiled race.
They who would believe anything are told that they are the problem...
That white is right and black is a crime... It so evil.
They led to believe that things have changed watch their children murdered in the streets by guns produced and sold by the white man.
Watch their children try new drugs produced and manufactured by the white man.
How many black men do you know that bring drugs into the country by boat, train or plane?
They crying in the cemeteries lay their children to rest and denounce saggy jeans, thug mentalities and black on black crime.
They do everything to avoid denouncing the real problem... to confront it head on.
The young black mother holding her now fatherless child falls to the ground as the white media finds a way to twist the story.
Make the innocent black man the beast.
He innocent because he is the true victim.
Victim of the great white lie... That the riches they stole are not owed back to us.
That education is equal... That mass media gives a damn about them while producing shows that show us in a negative light.
A false reality cause you ain't rich like them new niggas.
They spending hard earned dollars trying to be like them all the while not realizing the cold hard fact...
That all you are is just another nigga.
That this is Babylon...
That we must become the fire and brimstone raining from the skies of our minds...
Then and only then will God lead us from clouds of smoke and fire...
Back to the promised land from whence we came.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

[TITILLATION]

[TITILLATION]
THE SOUND PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND...
http://youtu.be/yh0rGbd5vsg

Here alone in my four cornered room I find myself wanting to lick of you.
To suck passion marks on your heart and thighs.
Make your pussylips swollen and your clit grow hard.
Take you to erotic heights where all that exists is the moans the sighs and the sweat of our passion...
The smell of sex as you wet gyrate on my tongue.
I licking my way into the corners of your mind where your sanity resides...
Take it and stroke it tenderly as I take it to the limits of all your reasoning...
To the door of insanity as I kiss it and lay it down...
Push your legs as far back as they can possibly go and hum a slow song...
Taste of thy cum as it wets your walls and spills forth , onto my lips, onto the hairs of my beard.
Your cries the basis for my being... Your juice so sweet flowing from your liquid depths.
Your nipples the dark berry dangling from life's tree as I pluck them ripe and nibble...
Fill myself on the flesh.
Trace a line down your stomach and flick a soft beat on your pussylips... pull them apart and stick my finger in...
Find your g spot and massage...
I need to see you squirt... It gives me strength... It gives me energy...
I a sexual vampire.
I who have lived so long because of your elixir.
I sitting here alone in the dark wanting you as so many queens alone sit in their four cornered rooms, wishing for a man.
I want you...
I need you...
I must have you...
Can I?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE TALE OF THE LOST MADONNA AND THE NEW NIGGAS}

{THE TALE OF THE LOST MADONNA AND THE NEW NIGGAS}
THE SOUND...
http://youtu.be/6J-vzhr1vzc

We having lost our base find ourselves in these modern times trying to rebuild...
We having forgotten that together we can overcome any obstacle as the black women say they don't need the black man...
The black man saying he does not need the black woman and our children suffer, our diaspora suffers the devastating effects.
So sad that so many of us having fallen victim to miseducation, tricknowledge and church endorsed homosexuality have forgotten these things.
That without you there is no me, without me there is no you and we begin the gradual descent into non-being.
Falsely believing the lie that we originated in slavery and teaching it to the babies from birth...
teaching them that's all their worth.
That our black skin is a mark of shame. that its a curse as we lead them to the hair store and the plastic surgeon.
As we falsely believe that we could be the children of Ham as preached from the white and black Christian pulpit...
We will die of false research and ignorance.
Once you were my Madonna and I found comfort in your embrace,
Once you were my base and I yours, upon it we built great cities, great civilizations.
Now it seems that our lives have taken separate paths that all lead to ruin.
So many of us having been birthed from the holds of slaveships, from the rape of black queens, from the tel-lie-vision.
The pyramids crumbling in air tainted by pollution, we crumbling to dust in air tainted by false rhetoric.
Our base once square has lost it definition.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE SCRIPT KILLA} FREEFORM COMBINATION FROM THE LION DOJO COMPOSED OF MANY STYLES
THE SOUND OF THE ETHEREAL BEING HE ERUPTING FROM REPOSE...
http://youtu.be/sekVJO0bl6E

This is that skrilla... that real deala that blasts from the mind.
This is that pure fyah which will burn through your soul and leave ashes which spawn new growth.This that y'all motherfuckers ain't ready for me that flows from my chest free.
Wayyyyy out there as I wave my hand and stars glittering fill the darkness of your mental skies.
A sigh as you wipe your eyes and breath the vapors... Somma dat straight gas rolled in a green sweet white owl... Loud and obscene.
This that
S
l
o
w
D
o
w
n
And that speed up.
This that skrilla guerilla script flip.
This that.

PARTICULATION 
Dust in the light floats
Such a panoramic prism
Gold reflections glint

From where I'm from a prison with no walls in the city Tallahassee called Springfield Arms but better known by its street name Joe Louis Street Projects...
From where I'm from we live hard... From the babies to the old people.
Been to many other places and done shit you might know bout, some shit you don't... some shit just plain made up as they tried to lock me away for three life sentences.
I stayed hard even in the toughest times, even when they tried to kill me by any means available.
From where I'm from people still dream... Dream of being free from the stigma attached to an address, 4 little numbers with so much meaning stamped in the back of an escapees brain... 1700 still remains. Bricks, blocks, wood and concrete...
I looking from a hill stand square as I remember seeing a man die, seeing a woman cry, seeing the children in the window as a man took their mom doggystyle.
Prisons dont always have walls.

LIONS BREAK FREE
A lion does not surround himself with tigers or dragons...
A lion surrounds himself with lioness's.
It is in this manner that lions remain lions.

I man who erupted onto the scene born of the need...
The need to survive as we subjected to the mentality genocide became the joke.
Laughed at on T.V. in full view as the men dress as ladies and the women act like bitches.
As some walk down city streets with their pants dropped to their knees... How you a soldier if you holdin up yo pants when you fight?
The brutal reality will stomp you down... Bury you beneath this foreign ground which absorbs our blood and sweat.
We got to be still around for a purpose as so many wait for divine intervention... The hand of God to smite our oppressors down as they spit vile stew from the pulpit and the pew... From the podium in the courtroom.
And what would you be? A painted ho or a bitch ass nigga serving life in the penitentiary... A king or a slave.
I spit hot lava flows as a result of my eruption.
I form new lands in the middle of savage seas where once we traveled in the belly of the beast.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{MAN STANDING ON LOVES FLOOR}
THE SOUND OF MAN SPEAKING UNTO LOVE...
http://youtu.be/mh094YhoCyE

And of Love I would ask, Wherefore art thou?
What cloud dost thou lie behind, I roaming the desert alone?
Love as thou inhabit the skies, the water, the dirt.
Love as thou dwell deep in my Lion heart.
I and love standing on the floor as adversaries, as old friends, as inspiration.
Love dost thou hold a tear for all my pain, would I implore as the winds of change whip around us.
As it whips the threads we wear.
A hat to shield us from the driving dust that the air circulates.
The blazing light of all this weight as it blasts onto our retina's.
Love in his manifestation as clear as the calm day.
Clarity in the midst of chaos cause Love don't change.
Love remains the same.
A remainder of all these things that have transpired over a millenia.
The harbinger of our deepest secrets.
I man would speakest these things to the being love as we stand at the foot of long shadows waiting for things to change.
My hand would I reach toward Love seeking to touch its solid core... to attain some of its peace in the midst of all this turmoil.
Love the cause and the cure.
Love the only way.
Love thou art the most beautiful conundrum.
The answer and the question.
One and the same.
I shouting these things while whispering unto Love.
The sun setting pon the desert floor as I and Love converse.
Bitter enemies and best friends.
Love would I implore...
Dost thou hear my roar?
These things wouldest I man Speak unto Love as day becomes night.