{THE RIM ROCKA SHOCK YA}

{THE RIM ROCKA SHOCK YA}


Let me into your inner sanctum, figure you out.
Let me into the cells that form the essential you...
The very pink of you.
Ahh the very brown of you.
The African, oh the African.
Let me dwell in the follicles of your hair.
The vibrations. Oh my...
Let me crash down the limits of your realization...
A moment with my tongue... Verbally and physically...
The Beast, Oh the beast...
So heavy and hard... Let me lay... Let me play... Oh your playground.
I as happy as wee lad in beautiful glade...
Wise man in great debate.
I who would absorb the very knowledge of you from your inner core...
The man.. The beast...
Let me find that place where we break free... Stroke it as you writhe in ecstasy ...
The darkest spot of your inhabitance... Oh the virtuality...
Let me make you remember... Prototypicality...
Let me make love to your Bodymindsoulcausality...
Let me pleasure you...
Let me.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{HOMELESS AND DESTITUTE} DIRTY WINDOWS REFRACTING LIGHT

{HOMELESS AND DESTITUTE} DIRTY WINDOWS SUPPRESSING THE SCREAMS


All these people they be talkin bout the Shelter... Shelter name be ranging in the streets.
Outsiders looking in... They dont realize this glass got fingerprints, headprints and assprints on it.
Got people seeing distortedly cause shit is real in the shelter... Dirty ass glass refracting the light.
Past these does is tattered lives... Deadbeat dads and absentee mothers... Big booty women with scars on their souls... Hearts broken and ravaged so savagely... A song so sad that rivers of tears fall as it is played again and again on the local news... In the Tallahassee Democrat it is the notes hieroglyphically displayed in black and white.
Molly smoke and Newport ashes falling to the ground as the video plays... Got that Antidote.
If you ain't careful the shelter mentality will eat you alive... Spit out yo bones with teeth marks on em.
Such a beautiful garden as the woman screams at the trees fatalistically... Po tree standing so silently... Is it I who has made her so angry? Could it be I as be the remedy...
Broken and battered she rages so harmoniously.
Shelter love flourishing and dying as the sun sets westerly...
Rap video thugs and would be gangbangers... What about some unity? Some civility ... Such a brutal reality cause past checkpoint one all you got is these and these words... Shit so real... Shit so real past these does.

JERALD HAMZAHFAUQ MURPHY

Thickness in melanin

(APOCALYPTIC SEEN?) EAT DESE NUTS BEAST...
THE SOUND AS I ROMP PON BABYLON...
https://youtu.be/ZpdazywjZm4

I shit pon the white the white man system... Such that it is.
Pon the white mans ideals I serve curse... Bun Babylon.
I who would be the scourge... I ancestors the firstborn.
I spit fyah against the psychology trickknowledge as taught in schools of higher thought.
I chimera would fly from red skies flinging fyah and brimstone... Awaken dry bones... Cast shade pon mine nation.
I lion would rule the jungle... Rank upon rank... Flank upon flank... Muscles twitching beneath I flesh.
Pon the mount... pon the mount... Tablets and commandments dashed to the rocks below.
I shit stinking pon the white mans system... pon the white mans degrees... 33 and a motherfucking third ain't got nuthin pon we...
Free iternally... Free externally... seen?
I drop thermonuclear solar wind storm... Mad lion and pissed off rhino... Four horsemen apocalyptic scroll seen?
I shit pon them Babylon.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SPANK DAT)

(SPANK DAT)
THE BEATFUCKING DOWN SOUND...
https://youtu.be/kinFrx1nRS4

I have no desire to be gentle... Even though that's fine and good at times I desire to be a tad bit rough right now...
Treat that punani like it belongs to me... Pound that pink down like a silverback... I the guerrilla... Savage roar and I would... Make pussy dripping wet... sniff sniff lick...
Legs spread so wide... Pussy winking at me... I wink back... So coy... Hey pussy...
Such fragrance that my head spinning takes me to other places where only me you and sex exist... I swinging off the chandelier into Pussy... I throwing you to the sofa... Your legs as they splay... A flash of phat Pussy... Eyes wide as I man beat all the way to the back... Touch the base of your diaphragm... Such high notes as the beast beats heavily in mine membranes... Lightning fire and thunder sound... Heavy drops splashing down...
You like it when I'm rough?
Hunh Pussy?
Who Pussy?
Bend over Pussy hanging down, Dick weighing bout five pounds...
Arch that back as I grab your throat from behind as I slap, slap, slap my flash against yours... As I pull your hair and make you push back...
Reach round and rub that clit...
Fuck gentle, Pussy... I desire rough...
I will hug it and kiss it and call it my Pussy.
Indeed.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE RAVENS TALE) DEDICATED TO RAVEN
THE SOUND AS HER IMAGE IS BROUGHT TO LIFE...
https://youtu.be/hOjP7wBs-iI

She born of the black.
Misunderstood and shunned for the black made her different, such a delicate butterfly caught in the winds of winter.
Her nappy halo a testament to her living strong in the face of such insurmountable odds.
Men drawn to her form for it divine caused many heads to turn.
All she wanted was to learn.
She the conundrum walked head held high, grace her constant companion, pose her place in the most savage of storms.
Such a fragile thing, lace and silk, the finest of threads.
Black satin shining as the sharpest blade.
Her allusions becoming metaphors and illusions dazzling in their display.
The cradle of  God contained in her hips, she born queen in the hallowed halls of her cranium
Milk of life falling as her spring rains as heads upturned let it fall upon their tongues.
Nourishment for a new millennium, one B'ak'tun and it all begins again.
Saviors, prophets, kings and queens, houses falling and rising.
Hue-man kind born again as the planet cyclical cruises through time and space.
Her darkness the predecessor of light, potential floating in her womb.
Men approaching her would be wise to know these things for she born of the black has the ability to unleash knowledge.
She is these things.
Her story these marks, lines and dashes.
Black hieroglyphics born of her flesh that will be read and translated in future times.
Food for a starving mind.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(META LOVE DROP)
THE SOUND AS LOVE AND MAN CONVERSE...

Love sitting on the bench beside me and I questioning her existence.
Her smell wafted my way and I in confusion sniffed deeply, love smelled like so many things.
Memories flooding the subconscious,Love causing tears to form in the corners of my eyes.
Love watching the traffic pass by licked her lips, so glossy.
I spoke and Love turned her head, the red tips of her dreads as I said "What must I do to attain you, I surely have paid the cost by now. My heart bears the marks."
Love blinked her eyes, such an innocent gesture, it seemed to be in super slow motion.
Love spoke and her voice was born of the salt of the earth and the blue of the skies.
"Really? You think that you have paid the highest price?
Men's bones bear my scars, women's souls carry my pain, your journey has only just begun.
I looked at the wispy clouds that stood in the bright blue crisp sky and thought for a moment.
"So the things that you took from me Love did you do that from hate, as a cruel joke?"
Love giggled, again the innocence of the gesture seemed to hold so much more meaning as her thigh moved.
Love indeed was fine.
"I do not have time for such frivolity, I am here to teach you hard lessons so that when you have me you will appreciate me. Some go whole lives and do not learn these things, I listen to their bones as well, I hear their souls cry."
I in envisioning these things that love described felt shook in my universal, my vision shifted and the day took on a new aura.
I sat in silence with love and watched as the day continued into night.
Love with glistening eyes.
I with tears in mine.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY