I would like to introduce you to a man and also present a perspective of him using one of his songs. The man I am speaking of is Michael Jackson and the song I that I am going to try and interpret is called "The Man In The Mirror."
To look at this song as just another song would be just as wrong as looking at Michael Jackson as just another man. It would be overlooking his diversity, complexity and legacy.
Michael was a man who by most accounts never had a chance to be a child yet he always maintained an air of innocence, even as an adult.
His performances combined this seeming innocence with a sort of raw power and never seemed to disappoint the sold out crowds who attended his concerts.
His lyrics while seeming mundane at times bordered on the profound.
This is reflected in the very first lines of the song "The Man In The Mirror" where he sings "I'm gonna makers change for once in my life... He goes on to add later "Gonna feel real good, Gonna make it right." These words are words of transition.
At this point we have to ask ourselves, what is he transitioning from? Into who and what is he transforming?
At this point he use the day to paint a picture of his unique view of the day. We are offered a glimpse through his eyes.
He describes the feel of a cold wind, where it takes him as he wraps himself in his warm winter jacket.
It's ability to make him see the less fortunate.
The children "I see the kids on the streetvwith not enough to eat." At this point he also introduces the fact that on a warm day he would have ignored these things, he tells us "A summers disregard, a broken bottle top, a one man soul." In these words we are introduced to the fact that he is having a moment of recognition. He is speaking of the duality of it all.
Of the correlation between rich and poor.
This leads us into the chorus which opens with the words "I'm talking to the man in the mirror, I'm asking him to change his ways" in these words he fully brings to light the nature and type of transformation he is seeking.
Looking into the metaphorical mirror he is forced to confront his own worst enemy, himself.
He calls into question his self love " I've been a victim of a selfish kind of love." It's seems as if the things that he has been confronted with have opened his eyes. He asks himself how he could have ignored these things, the pain of his fellow man and woman.
"Could it really be me, pretending that they are not alone?"  He alludes to the people he sees as objects to draw an accurate description of how he sees their pain. "A willow deeply scarred." As emotions "Somebody's broken heart and as "A washed out dream."
He issues a beautiful but stern warning that you "Can't close your mind.
This leads us to see that this song seems to be about rebirth, growth and the ability we as humans have to change things if we would only try. It is also a song of inner turmoil and strife because change is never easy.
Especially when the person being changed is one's self.
Michael Jackson.
A complex man with a complex message.

I want you on your knees.
My big thick dick standing in your face.
Take it in your hands and feel the weight.
Look in its eye.
Suck it for me baby... Put it in your mouth...
Fuckkk, I love when you swallow it like that.
I can feel your throat...
All naked, sucking this dick and looking up at me....

(MAGNITUDAL)
THE SOUND...THE BEAT...THE RHYTHM...
https://youtu.be/1cNdmut4Fi0

As artist would I draw you on this parchment...
Sketch you in lines and scribbles... Alluding to the beginning... In the beginning.
Translate the hieroglyphics of your stretch marks.
Speak your image into existence all brown eyed and flared hips... Lips so plump and succulent... The broadness of your nose.
An artist I would paint you on city walls where you would look down brown eyed at the little African children walking by.
The spirals of your nappy hair as universe...
Allusions of life erupting across the cosmos.
A playwright I would write a sci-fi where we: you and I would be the prototype.
Erupting as stars birthed from the spark... The big bang.
I the renaissance born of the life you bore...
A singer I would bring tears to eyes as I speak of trials and tribulations...
Struggle, strife and total ignorance as our people governed by skin tone and class systems rip our nation apart...
I would rap about our ultimate resurrection... Spit bout 60 bars bout it...
Such inspiration and the crowd bouncing in inspiration...
I would stand on the mountain side and drop tablets.
Broad strokes, musical notes and sketch lines devoted to thee.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(ASHES AND MELANIN)
THE SOUND PROPHETS DROP...
https://youtu.be/sOrBZX__o08

They lie as ashes, these remnants of great nations that existed in ancient times.
They scattered and cast as flotsam on the savage winds of the wolf's howl.
They once lions cowering, they once a force to be reckoned with kneeling on psychological knees.
Rain would fertilize them if only it could reach the parched lands of their cerebral cortex.
Clouds of deception and they die of thirst in fresh water seas.
Oceans of ink and they take no heed.
Sold out and strung out on the promise of all the pig you can eat.
The promise of being equal in the system savagery as preached on the slaveship, preached on the plantations and pImped salvation on streetcorners and prison.
White Jesus bloody on a billboard... Gone save yo black ass soul.
King James and Paul as saviours of we.
Stolen god conceptualization fed to the masses of ashes... Dried out and insubstantial.
Carbon and water cybernetic components of false rhetoric, spitting soul crushing lyrics.
Pyramids testifying to once greatness they would denounce their origins.
The triple stages of the current state of their darkness.
The light Freedom shining at the end of the tunnel.
The whirlwind cometh.
Ashes spin in the bitter winds...
Wishing it would rain.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(OF GOD, RELIGION, WANT, NEED AND THE AWFUL TRUTH OF UTTER FUTILITY)
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/aPX_i2zcDvY

And man cast into this eventuality by chance, by fate, looks at its inhabitants.
So rooted are they by custom and belief.
Man stretches his hand out and contemplates his fingers.
Feels the power as it courses through his structure.
He reminisces times that they these beings say he couldn't have existed.
They calling them past lives.
He knows them as what they are.
They in his mitochondrial, strands of his ancestors.
He blessed with the ability to see glimpses of the future knows that one day one of his fruit generations removed will see what he sees now.
Even as he lies free of the mortal coil.
His bones lying beneath the earth.
He has no fear of these things.
The cosmos has shown him these things.
As a child he contemplated these things.
These things.
He listening to the lost as they seek the truth in religion and science, in love, in war.
Such .sn abundance and they waste it in want and need.
A child breathing his or her last breath and they waste the moments. Bound by the words of men they wake and fall asleep bound by the concept time.
Man looks at the trees and ask them what would they do.
The trees silent continue to grow.
He asks the animals and they instinctual wake and find food and shelter, mate and create new generations.
With no one to preach to them they do the bidding of Allah.
The ebb and flow and man witnessing these things knows that the buildings will fall, these lives that they squander will end.
These people so disconnected from the reality that they see everyday hovering at the edges of civilization.
Man laughs at their choice of this word for these people are but playthings of people who know these things.
Civilized... Ha.
Man witnessing the folly ponders the futility...
The rustle of the angels wings as he stands at the door of dimensional.
So few walk these streets.
A warrior, a man, a griot he fades into the masses of humanity.
A whisper, a memory.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(HYPERVELOCITY) URBAN SENRYU
DE RIDDIM AS THE BLOOD POUNDS...
https://youtu.be/iTVSdstDIL4

(Melaninity)
Sun shines across we
These beings hue-manity
It feeding our skin

(Futuristically)
Dawn and we awake
Free from the chains of bondage
Mental and physical

(United)
We stand as one soul
The world remembers her child
They born of her soil

(Completely Unique)
Stars sing our rebirth
The prodigal has returned
The future rejoices

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BOUNCE BOUNCE, SKEET SKEET)
THE SOUND OF THE BOUNCE...
https://youtu.be/weQx17zlRp8

Bounce that ass up and down let me see you bump and grind...
Baby ride this pole like a cowgirl... Put some tears in my eyes... Make me all sensitive.
Come here and stand over me and squat that thang on my dick... Make its length slick and wet.
Drop them titties in my face so I can suck them dark nipples hard... Arch my back and make the head of my dick touch the back of your walls.
Lay yo body back and let me see that pussy wrap around my thickness and stretch them pussy lips wide.
Scramble up my brain... Fuck me insane
Turn around and ride it reverse... Pussy meat so pretty pulling in and out.
Looking so good I want to kiss that thang.
Bounce that ass up and down like I know you can girl... Ass cheeks rippling as I slap that fine ass.
You gone make me take my camera and snap a picture so you can see how good it looks to me... See baby that's some pretty pretty pink.
Such a lovely pussy as it swallows up the thickness of my chocolate stick.
Bounce that ass up and down on the thick of my dick... Make it skeet, skeet, skeet sweet sticky cream into the recesses of our primal screams...
Bounce that ass baby...
Bounce that ass...
Bounce that ass.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY