(HUE-SEXUAL EXPLORATION)
THE SOUND OF HYPERSEXUALIZATION...
https://youtu.be/qvKvmTzCd7U

Can I lie with you as the stars travel the sky?
Can I consummate with your mind.
Make love to its ridges and creases...
Plunge into its depths again and again.
Rub it and feel it shudder...
Feel it grab my width and hold me tight.
Your mind I mean.
Stroke it eloquently with soothing lyrics see.
Massage away your day and add peace to your night.
We linked psychologically and physiological all off in the ether of our hue-manity.
The chemical compounds of our beings as we hypernetic explore our cybernetics... see?
Come my dear...
Lie with me.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(QUESTIONS AND QUANDARYS OF A SEXUAL NATURE)
THE BEAT DROPPED AND LOCKED...

Why I gotta talk all nasty to you?
All up under your clothes and shit...
Make that pussy wet.
Like that.
That fine black ass...
That pink candy... Mmmm...
Why I gotta talk to you like that?
Why I gotta touch that clit... make you gasp... transfixation of I.
This beast that cavorteth in my brain.
Spreading you naked... dining pon thee.
Hums and vibrations... sliding wet and slick, in and out.
Bend over and arch that back... titties hanging down... Dick standing strong.
Flipping you over and tasting others again... juice flowing.
Wet cream dripping down your crack.
Damn...
Why I gotta talk to you like that?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

( SOUTHERN SKY VERSES ) A HAIKU/SENRYU JOINT.
THE SOUND IS PHENOMENAL... DO NOT MISS IT...
https://youtu.be/pubQNx0jA4c

(BORN)
Stars sigh solar winds
Whispers into man's psyche
The view lovely here

(DEEPLY)
Crickets and frogs play
Thick the humidity
Natures symphony

(SUSPENDED)
Vibrations on drums
Hammer rising and falling
Man standing listens

(ASTRONOMICAL)
Moon in eastern sky
A slow progression to dawn
Life awakening

(SEE)
Birds greet morning
A cup of Kenyan coffee
Intoxicating

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE SENTINEL)
THE SOUND AS THE CONVERSATION COMMENCES...
https://youtu.be/XBG7hmsxSGw

Please oh tree, talk to me.
Let me sit on your roots and hear your tale.
Tell me of olden times, the things that thou hast seen.
Tell me of those who passed this way before me.
Of where they have gone for surely you have become sentient in your time here.
Communicating with the ants and the birds that inhabit thy boughs.
Reaching out your arms to Allah...
Living sirat al mustaqim.
Thy nappy hair drooping to the ground... Dred locks on weeping willows.
A fantasy sanctuary under the sad leaves where we find a man seeking reality.
Tell me of the good things and the bad,
I can deal with great weight... Allah has given me strength.
Tell me of the agony of seeing your brethren fall as they made way for man.
For steel and concrete.
So cool in the shade.
I stand here begging you...
Tree, speak to me.

Sirat al mustaqim: the straight path

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

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