(ASHES RISING FROM DUST AND BECOMING CIVILIZATIONS)
THE SOUND OF RECONSTRUCTION...

Man looking down into the pit of souls as the inconsequential scurry about.
Lost in a maze of lies and to insecure to figure it out.
Man hollering and it echoing off into the distance and ricochetes away.
Fading... Fading as it recedes into non-existence.
The hard drop... The shattering whisper and man born of concrete and asphalt begins to rip at his skin and build 360.
Steel structure rising from the feelings of heartache... His dispair.
Skeletons gaining sinew as he constructs.
Burying whole systems of mass control.
He God.
God he.
Tapping at the mantle of heaven.
And he... Man he mathematic solves equations that have eluded the greatest minds.
Pyramids and monoliths...
Scrolls written by spiritual men in mystic times where knowledge emerged from the primordial mists.
Menelik, Khadir and Imhotep.
The book, The Injeel and the holy Quran.
Man ascending the ladder looks down.
He holds the light...
He holds the light.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE LYRICAL KUNG FU MASTER AND HIS MUSE)
THE SOUND AS HE IN DOJO CREATES FORM.. THAT DEEPEST...
http://youtu.be/c2sDwgPlHUE

And she bid that I write of her and I a lonesome man reached into my inkwell and withdrew my pen.
In the formless from where these characters are born I saw her form and began to bob and weave across the page.
Her big brown eyes shining translucently.
I spellbound by their luminescent glow.
Falling, falling into the essential of she.
The spirals of her hair the star speckled skyscape.
I shooting star falling onto her scalp.
Making skinfall on the dark tip of her nipple and sinking in.
Becoming a part of her mass, her essence.
And I the artist/writer/lover feel her so.
A quaking in my phallic roots.
In the seed bearing pods which elicit ejaculate.
Covering and filling her crevasses with seed.
Rivulets running in the channels and forming puddles.
I lost in the jungle where I bend and drink.
Her water soft and sweet.
Her meat so pink and tasty.
Such pretty petals pon thine flowers.
I blow on them and she shudders a most lovely portrait painted black and brown tones.
A mad lyrical kung fu artist lost in the practise.
Calligraphy and hieroglyphics...
Graffitti spray painted on a ghetto wall.
Sandblasted away and drawn again.
You cannot erase we.
And I called upon to capture her for eternity sit back and contemplate.
We complete.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(GALACTICAL)
HOW IT SOUNDS IN MY DEEP SPACE...
http://youtu.be/1_eExOJjtuw

Man born of the fire of the cosmos...
Carbon and water.
Man born on the third rock orbiting a yellow sun.
Man born black in a white reality where so many forget that once we all were black.
Born of the blackness of an unformed space.
Born of the blackness of Allah.
For if we who were born of blackness exist.
We were created in his image.
The blackness of his being.
The dark and the light.
Man born now wanders dazed and confused for not embracing truth.
Perpetuating lies to hold the masses at bay.
To keep them from toppling the walls of his castle.
It protected by the dragon blaspheme.
It passed on in speeches and sermons.
The masses enraptured by the fire and brimstone eloquently presented as salvation.
Crackers and wine...
Cannabalistic ritualism...
Bathed in the blood of the victim supposedly killed by the system.
It now proclaiming in God we trust as it ignores the hungry and poor.
Commits mass genocide.
Spits on their graves.
Man born of the cosmos pauses and reflects.
Light erupting from his soul.
Man awake and alert.
Dropping pure fire.
Dawn breaking pon the land.
Man born of a silent explosion thermonuclear in nature.
Who can contain his power?
Who can dispute his truth.
His voice vibrating pineal and stimulating hemispheres.
Resonating vibrantly as the scared cringe in obvious confusion.
Taught lies and to trained to escape them.
Chains pon dem souls.
Man standing at the gates pauses.
He remininces these things.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(MAGUEDA AND THE POET MUSED) HIGHLY EROTIC... DEDICATED TO MAGUEDA JACKSON...
THE SOUND... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN... THIS SONG IS FOR YOU MAGUEDA...
http://youtu.be/y12PlyjCXGA

She my island queen makes me wanna turn her around, bend her over and plant my tree in her bushy.
I want to make her sing...
Reggae tones as I strive to take her higher.
To go deeper than any man before.
Fibbrilate her heart and awaken her soul.
She my fertile island in the middle of salty seas.
I drinking of the fresh water flowing from her springs.
Finding comfort in her cave.
So dark so warm and I stroke slow and long.
I seeking to plant my seed in her soil and watch the forest grow.
Small trees that drop seed and become more.
Her hair the crown as I play with it, pull it and scratch the ground, her scalp.
She my muse and I high on her inspiration plunder the booty of her treasure room.
Lay in the canopied bed of her bedouir and sink into her folds.
So soft and thick.
Bathed in moon shine.
I drunk on her melanin content.
A black and grey bearded pirate who sails cosmic seas where suns and planets are the ports of my destination.
I ponder the wonder of this African island queen.
Her ability to rip this scroll from my souls hold.
The power of her muse.
I sip of my coffee and she swirls black and strong.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(MOUNT LOVE)
THE SOUND...

If love is a mountain I am the mangled mass lying at its base...
Not suicide for that would go against who I am.
I was pushed by a cruel wind that filled my clothes, lifted me and sent me falling.
It was not the fall that killed me either.
The fall while hard was rather a pleasant ride.
I not knowing what was happening thought it was just a part of the trip.
SPLAT!
I hit the ground godawful hard.
The pain... oh the paiinnnn.
I lying shattered on the ground with rocks pressing into my skin.
My mind unable to function because of the paiiinnn.
My brain... my aching brain.
I slipping into the embrace of darkness where in my cave of solitude I try to reconstruct my pieces.
To set the broken bones and stitch the torn skin of mine emotions.
They lie.
They minimize the hurt of this...
I on bended knee.
My mind, my mind.
Gots ta get it right.
I must be strong for the mountain love looms in my sight.
In the morning I'm gonna climb it again.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE ROMPASTOMPA , A BEAST AND A BLACK MAN) PURE PRIMAL LUST

(THE ROMPASTOMPA , A BEAST AND A BLACK MAN) PURE PRIMAL LUST
THE SOUND OF THE ROMPASTOMPA'S SAVAGE LUST... SO MUCH PRESSURE...
http://youtu.be/NiMGOUP5Zrc
I could see it in her eyes...
She wanted the Rompastompa and I hesitantly released him from his cage.
He pushed me to the side and I could feel his raw sexuality as he took over.
My eyes his and his eyes mine.
His lust so strong that shevupon seeing it gasped.
The Rompastompa heard her intake of air and reached out his hand... My hand?
He touched her soft flesh.
He placed his hand on her breast, on her chest and we felt her quickly beating heart.
Saw the way she bit her lip and that set the Rompastompa off.
He took her nipple into his mouth... My mouth?
He sucked it till it grew hard while he played with the other one.
Took his other hand... My other hand?
Trust it between her legs and rubbed our fingers through her pubic hair and it found her slit.
So warm... So wet.
She moaned and the Rompastompa placed his hand behind her head and she took his hardened phallus into her mouth and the Rompastompa sighed... I sighed?
Damn it felt so good but the Rompastompa being well versed in the art of cunninligilus stopped her before it went to far and pushed her back.
Kissed her inner thighs and licked his way to her pink pretty and explored it with his tongue.
He able to see with its tip.
Oh how she squirmed and I felt the primal need of the Rompastompa as he turned her around and drove our manhood in.
Scratched the skin of her buttocks...
Pulled her hair...
I the Rompastompa and the Rompastompa me as her flesh quaked and shook.
As she screaming release begged him to give her more.
The Rompastompa glad to oblige flipped her over and spread her wide.
Played with her and spanked itvwith the drooling head of his prodigious appendage.
Pushed it in... Ground it in and pumped blood into it.
Made it pulse in her womb.
She wet on his... My belly?
She dripping fluid that left splatters as he beat down.
The Rompastompa... The beast and she screamed multiple in her orgasms.
The little death overtaking her and he resuscitating her.
She now belonging to he if only for a short time.
The Rompastompa a realist making me realize these things...
She screaming loyalty...
That her pussy was his... Was mine.
I felt the Rompastompa's orgasm as it built and grew.
Surging through my belly and my thighs.
So strong that our eyes, they fluttered.
It cumming in spasms and the Rompastompa relieved returned to his cell as I weak fell from her body and listened as she shuddering still lay on her side gave a contented sigh and fell asleep.
The Rompastompa and I lost in the beauty of raw aftersex smiled and closed our eyes.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I BEARING WITNESS TESTIFY)
THE POUNDING SOUND...
http://youtu.be/SnrXYH4XOxM

And unto we power was bestowed...
We made whole.
Our spirit was the sun and in its light we grew strong.
We having such power at times did not recognize it.
It having always been there.
We who were born from the earth and the water.
We assumed that all was fine and that all those born of us were like us
Then came the cannons and the crosses...
Then came white Jesus and Manifest destiny.
Whole nations were wiped out and the knowledge of we was stolen and adapted to make us believe that we the prototypical were meant to be slaves.
Black preachers were taught to make sure to mention the curse of Ham.
To talk of a white heaven where finally under the white god we would finally be free.
Come my children... Gather round.
The day starting with darkness... The night and the cosmos as well and man ignores the obvious signs and cornerstones.
The clarity as the trumpet blasts and the seals open... The beast revealed as he ignores the blood he stands in.
Calls himself a hero as he lines up victims in his sights.
Picks his teeth to get rid of the flesh he eats.
His whore standing in a harbor... She spoken of in revelations and prophesies revealed are ignored.
Plagues and pestilence.
Man and man... Woman and woman and the earth moans in pain.
She bearing witness to the rape and genocide of minds, bodies and souls.
The horror... The horror.
Such potential and it flaunted as rap and religious ideal rips we apart.
Two schools given over to the white side as opposed to the dark from which our mold was ripped.
Analogies and figurative forms of speech falling parable.
Once power was bestowed to we.
Find the key...
Find the key.
We
Need
To
Find
The
Key.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY