{SAVAGE ISLAND FANTASY} INSPIRED BY TRISHA JOSEPH

{SAVAGE ISLAND FANTASY} INSPIRED BY TRISHA JOSEPH
THE SOUND SAVAGE AND UNRELEASED...
https://youtu.be/NjEYAK90MvEa

I want to fuck you till you collapse....
Beat that pussy from the back till you sink to the bed...
Make you keep them legs open as I minister to your needs.
Touch the back of that womb and make you scream.
Make you squirt as I pull out and catch that spraying juice.
Rub that clit and slip this dick back in.
Reach round and grab them tits.
Pull you back on this dick.
Make you beg me me to fuck you...
Make me beg me to stop... No Jerald, don't stop!
Why you doing this to me as your stomach full of butterflies rises and falls.
I want to knock the breath out of your lungs and suck your lips till the puffy and swollen testify to my Beast.
A moment before he turns you over and falls in deep.
Bites your nipple and scratches your ass cheeks as you spread receiveth of he.
Wet fluid released and I drink of it, splack in it, play in it as I fuck you relentlessly.
I so hard that I could break a diamond, drill all the way to your core.
Make you shatter into a thousand glittering pieces.
I want to fuck you...
Till you collapse.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE WANT... THE NEED... THE REALITY)

(THE WANT... THE NEED... THE REALITY)
THE SOUND BUMPING IN THE BACKGROUND...
https://youtu.be/zrpCfdkTwxU

I want to fuck you...
Not as some primitive entity but with full cognition.
I want to touch you with the supreme knowledge dwelling in these fingertips...
The whole entirety of my physiology.
Massage you in the deepest recesses of your brain matter where we really exist...
The place where we as hue-man and woman know our true existence.
Where we are found.
I want to suck you.
Not in your past or present but a future eventuality where your pink glistens and your brown shines.
Where we together have seen many things.
I a born King would bow unto thou...
Oh my queen.
Heavens rejoicing at the uniting...
The metronome pronouncing our arrival on this plane...
I want to fuck you in a spiritual way...
Lay hands upon you and raise you orgasmically higher...
Feel you coursing through my veins and racing pon my synaptics.
I wanting to drop wetly as dew on your ground...
Take you as clay and bring you to life with gentle caresses and softly spoken words.
Lay you on a cloud.
See...
I wanna fuck you, but baby I want so much more.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE FANTASTICKEST FANTASY) A STORY INSPIRED BY THE OBJECT OF MY AFFECTIONS.
THE SOUNDTRACK... MAKE SURE YOU FUNK THIS AS YOU READ...
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL24cV6IIynrZbk_5OLj_S-ucx9GDVm6PO

They were born of the nothingness...
He born before her took his first steps with no knowledge of her on a conscious level.
He spoke his first words before she even existed in this physicality.
She still an egg on a womb... a seed in a man.
She born knew nothing of him.
They born within blocks of each other but separated by time.
She a flower born into the garden life.
They born black in a land where black is a curse saw it not at all.
He raised on a battlezone grew warrior strong.
At times he cried... At times he raged.
Two sides of he unleashed on n unsuspecting society.
Death a large part of his reality for he lived hard.
Sometimes in the chaos he stopped and breathed deep as if searching for a scent.
His heart beat in a hollow cavity formed of lonesomeness.
He seeking solace thought it could be found in coitus, oh how wrong he was.
The first time they saw each other was a sad occasion...
Their cousin lie dead.
Victim of plague and tears were in their eyes.
She listened as he spoke while not recognizing the truth.
He spoke while not knowing the truth.
They being made for each other had more growing to do.
He and she walked away and lived separate lives.
He still living among the downtrodden denizens of this human had demons to face as did she.
He at time paused and wondered what her name might be.
She married to another though she had found the one.
He living with another whom he loved thought he could do this.
Time passing has a way though of tearing notions down and crashing stone walls to the ground.
They found themselves once again cast into the pit loneliness..
The years falling off into maybe one day and maybe never.
In the darkest hours they found each other on a cyber highway and held virtual hands...
They still not recognizing the inevitable
He heard her voice one such time as she in her despair squeezed his hand hard...
Time again interceded as they apart played more demons born of being of the chosen.
He in his wanting looking at she... She at him.
Holding nature at bay.
In the darkest hours he heard her words and they pulled him from the fortress built of crushed dreams bones.
He draped as if for war felt his heart melt as she enveloped him...
As he absorbed her.
They coalescing...
Became one.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE DANCER AND THE BEAST} PRESSURE

{THE DANCER AND THE BEAST} PRESSURE
LISTEN TO THIS... IT SO EXPRESSES THE THOUGHT.
https://youtu.be/8g4lEOPJTes

She acrobatic cavorts in my mind...
I would taste of she dangling in an appropriate pose as I beast tend to her needs.
Feed her meat as she feeds me flesh.
Dine on her orgasm.
Drink of her screams and lie in her moans.
Such an eloquent dance as she gymnastically filters through my diaspora.
Arched and contorted....
I beast see these things as the appreciation of all hue-man existence and pay homage.
I linked to her chemically.
Our balance linked and in sync and we ride the highs of our sation.
Drop it old and new school...
Sweaty and wet as it splashes on my face...
I told you a taste.
Pon the tip of my tongue as she pirouette's and gyrates.
I swinging and crashing into the scene as guerillo knocking down trees and sniffing of her petals.
Inhaling and swerving.
Make it last all night and she feeling it in her belly all the next day.
A most refreshing workout of such intensity.
She stretching my imagination to and beyond infinity...
Hypervisuality...
I see...
I see.

JERALD HAMZAH FARUQ MURPHY

(THE DEVIL IS A LIE)
THIS IS MOST RELEVANT SOUND... LISTEN WELL...
https://youtu.be/CKkwOem9Vl8

I heard an ancestor crying blood tears from his grave today.
He was crying for a brother shot in the back by a lying policeman.
Shot in the back by his own people's indifference.
The ancestor he wailed at the inactivity of all these niggas, bitches and hoes.
I listened as my ancestor stirred restless and spoke unto me.
His words chilling me to my core as my dna turned ice cold.
He screaming of preachers who stand and speak of peace when clearly we are in the deepest stages of war.
Psychological and institutional.
He raged because prophets lead men to battle in times past.
Honor of family and love of nation.
His voice became stringent as he quoted old and new scriptures.
As he sang ayats.
I in the throes of a vision saw tolerance run amuk as gays became the church.
They committing acts of sodomy and deceit.
Flipping scroll to fit their blasphemous lifestyle.
It endorsed by a government which worships a flag... The whore of Babylon it's representation.
In whose god does it trust?
Annuit Coeptis and all that.
Illuminatic desecration of all that is holy.
The church it's bitch barking for its bones.
Using its scraps to appease the few while ignoring the whole.
My ancestor told me to pick up my weapon and use it to tear down walls of deception.
To educate a new generation.
Teach them to not be afraid of the white man or any other that stood on the way of us being free.
I listening as the veils fell away and the truth naked and black emerged.
Son of Dawood and The melanic Jesus.
I born unafraid of dying for mine.
I who wept everytime a black body hit the ground and a preacher in support of the beast preached inadequate and inefficient words of mass confusion.
Designed to keep men as slaves.
He assured me that the war could be won with the same weapon that held us enslaved.
He called that weapon The Mind...
He said it could build as well as destroy.
I heard an ancestor sigh as he lay back in his grave...
I turned and walked away reborn.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{DIVERSION} DEDICATED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE DONETTA RHODES
THE SOUND, IF YOU MISS IT YOU MISS THE FULL CONTEXT OF THE DIVERSION...
https://youtu.be/hXdgjE_SPoU

I want to feel you... My soul... My soul.
I reaching out to you like Africa.
I shedding a tear at the distance for my arms they hurt in the wanting.
Thy weight would I welcome in and on me...
So soft and I hear the sound of a train.
The lonesome cry of the horn.
What if I had you here?
As the world it passes by.
Black tires on black asphalt.
All the people and not one of them is you as they live their lives.
A sigh and I feel you in the remoteness of my solitude.
I reflecting on you.
I a sole inhabitant standing at the precipice and in my pineals I feel your psyche as it pulls me back.
Your name echoing off all the layers of all this time.
I off in these clouds where you become an image swirling and mesmerizing...
Puff, puff... cough, cough.
I feeling you expanding in my lungs breathe thee deep.
Exhale explosively.
Suck on your nipples and nibble your pussy.
A sigh and I summon all my strength.
Try to implant my seed in your mind...
Grow some wisdom trees in the fertile soil we...
We born from as carbon and water recreations of the one black God
I feel you... I want you.
My love... My love.
I feel you in my soul.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{OF WOMAN AND MAN} DEDICATED TO DONETTA
THE SOUND AS MAN STANDING TESTIFIES...
https://youtu.be/ppxWkMnaMG8

And my heart... My heart beats your name...
It trickles through my body and threatens to tear me apart.
My oh my.
you having awakened parts of me dead so long.
You have resurrected me and I emerge from the tomb of what was my existence.
My power having increased and I wanna show you the all of us.
Dry lake beds in Tanzania, bodies of water in the U.S.
Fields where my mother worked in the days of segregation when pickin tobacco was what niggas did.
That's what they called my mother back then.
But you know of these things cause you too have seen.
And my hand... My hand it wields magic...
Draws it from the air that recycled through the breaths that you breath.
Co2 that feeds the trees that cover us in their shade.
Sheilds us from the southern sun where we born will become one.
Children of sons born of suns, Daughters born of Isis.
We the hard core...
And my feet... My feet beat our beat...
Bass is the step as I walk this earth for you.
Solid beatdown.
Tribal drums thumping in the night.
I dancing in the light of our moon cause you are the earth and I the sun.
Redirection...
And my loins.... My loins seek of thee cause you are the other half of my physicality...
The cause of my eventuality...
The crux of my being.
I on the plateau of love stand firmly planted.
And my heart... My heart it beats your name

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY