(BREATHE)
THE SOUND...

So like a breath of fresh air...
Man standing in a light gentle breeze.
Panorama before him spread.
Leaves rustling, welcoming the coming.
So like completion, soft skin and voice.
Man taken there, glimpses of a soul bared.
Could I be the soothing or would I be the tumultuous storm?
Man wonders, while looking at thy form, it so tempting.
What roads have thy wandered to come to this turn?
Man wonders contemplative.
Thy penetrating his senses and pervading his structure.
So like the cool after a summer rain.
Night but a dusk away.
It would find us entwined if things were to go that way.
A conversation, perhaps some lovemaking.
You feline in your grace, your purrs divine falling onto the drums of man's ears.
He stroking you in your most intimate of places.
Oh the titillation, the fibrilation.
Ahhhh.
So like a cloud, the feel of drizzling rain.
Such an exhilarating feeling as man stretches his arms.
Inhale...
Exhale.
Ahhhh.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(SOLDIERS... HA! ) MOTHERFUCKERS, SOLDIERS, NIGGAS AND THE AWFUL TRUTH...
THE SOUND AS WE GET DIRTY...
https://youtu.be/N62No1rC-I0

Motherfuckers talkin bout they soldiers...
Motherfuckers talkin bout they run the hood.
All of em ignorant dan a son of a bitch.
Motherfuckers killing other motherfuckers that call themselves Crips, Bloods and G.D.s all of em a bunch of indoctrinated punk bitches getting punked by the system.
Bent over and fucked.
Prison bitches even on the outside of them walls cause prisons begin in motherfucking minds.
Designed and conceptualized and put in practical use.
Niggas, bitches, hoes, and hoods.
Motherfuckers owning that ignorance.
Can't even band together to face the real enemy cause they love to hate on each other.
That's what pit bulls is trained to do.
Chew at each other's necks while their owners chew on the steak of their labors.
Dinners served on silver plates, glasses trimmed with gold.
Another shot please?
Motherfuckers talking bout they soldiers when they are the disease...
Spreading like AIDS.
Pants sagging to advertise the booty cause that's what pimped out ass hoes do.
Sell ass and suck dick... This shit is literal and figurative, raw and motherfucking gritty.
Niggas spilling each other's blood, killing probable prophets and hypothetical saviors.
Lined up in the cross hairs, holes in feet and hands.
Niggas wearing the mark of the beast and killing in the beasts name.
He wearing the cloak of the judge and the badge of the police.
He the orchestrator of niggas rise and niggas demise.
Motherfuckers swearing they soldiers when they ain't nothing but slaves.
Talkin bout they rising when all they doing is digging graves.
Could been a nation when all they got is cliques, gangs and drug induced hallucinations.
Molly, crack and pharmaceutical too.
Couldn't last a week in a real war zone cause they depend on grocery stores for food and drink water from bottles.
Motherfuckers talkin bout they soldiers, time for motherfuckers to show and prove.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{ I KNOW THE GLASS CANT BE THIS DIRTY? }
THE SOUND. PLEASE LISTEN CAUSE THE MUSIC GOES WITH THE TALE...
https://youtu.be/UITCDEm2D40


This shit ain't real... Its as fake as the value we place on a pair of shoes or a place to live.
Fake as the deed that you hold to your land cause if a motherfucker took it one time he can take it again.
In the morning you look up and see the sun... That shit is real.
The flower... The buzzing bee, but you miss it cause you paying attention to going to work to wear some fake ass hair and pay for cable so you can watch another motherfuckers reality on T.V.
So blind to the reality cause if you weren't working for them you could have chopped down a forest and made your own cities by now.
You could have anything you want but you have been trained to be a slave.
Physically and spiritually and the children grow weaker by the day.
The lakes, the animals and the trees are poisoned and the rain is acidic.
Scared to separate cause all you want is another suck off the proverbial titty... all you are is a symbiant life form in the grand cosmic scheme.
Stolen knowledge, stolen bodies, stolen minds... The deaf, dumb and docile and the angel cries could drown out the sound of a trillion bat wings in the dusky night.
So many dead and gone the way wrong.
Warriors ready to dance at all costs fighting each other as Crip and Blood lost in confusion and arranged in disarray.
So many calling themselves bitch and hoe... So many men wearing female dress and absorbing female stress.
The African man but a shattered remnant scared to attack the real enemy... Financially and physically he has become as unto spiders dinner.
Trapped in the snare.
Injected and sucked out.
A dry hull falling to the floor.
So fucked up cause as I see...
This shit just cant be fucking real.
Its got to be a dream cause there is no way its real.
Is there?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

I see you and my primality presses into my peneality... I grow heavy and hard and I would fall into your valley... Victim of your causality.
Rivers flowing, flowers growing, skin glowing.
To orgasmic going, sound receding and slowing, psyche blowing.
Some of that humdangerlanger, thick dick hangeranger,

(OH)

(OH)

THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... PLEASE LISTEN...

https://youtu.be/rJ12nhq7n74

You drop into my mind as dark as the moment before realization, in the chambers of Allah.
Forged from the remnants of a suns fire and I, Oh...
You make me tremble to the very roots of my tree... Got me quaking and I um, Oh.
I feel you baby, and I need you so, and I just don't wanna let go.
A moment on this mortal thread with thee and I, Oh...Just wanna explode .
Release all this energy into the cosmos... Blow perceived notions to the edges of heavenly abode.
We, you and me born of the big bang and the resulting cataclysms as Suns became stars, as planets were born of them going supernova.
You make me wanna touch you on your, in your and I, Oh.
Oh I wanna merge into the depths of your Dna and mingle with you psychologically.
I a spark in your synapses, a wet spot in your panties and I, Oh.
I told you I feel you so so long ago...
I think it might have been on a plain in Africa or a playground in Georgia, I born of slaves and free men.
Mixed progeny and here we are homogenized in these times and I, Oh.
Oh I wanna reach out and touch you trembling from the questing of my fingers the manipulations of my tongue.
Pink turning to dark where I would plant seed, watch it dribble between ass cheeks and I, Oh.
I told you so.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 

(DECISIONS AND INNERVISIONS)
THIS PIECE WAS WRITTEN TO THIS MUSIC... PLEASE LISTEN...
https://youtu.be/LRfN2R3PpHs

What am I if not blood sweat and tears... I man built this country, raised it pon mine back.
I man stood by and watched as my woman bore the progeny of wicked men.
He who would enslave his own seed.
I man cried in the room darkened by night and prayed that I would be free.
That my children might smell the fresh air, breathe of being truly unburdened by the melanin in their skin.
I man hung from trees as my neck attached and tears ran down my cheeks... as I pissed myself.
Salt water so reminiscent of the seas we crossed in the belly of the beast.
Whips, chains and maggots as my soul festered.
I man held on to small remembrances of times past till placed in smalls cages departed from reality.
Some became shuffling versions.
My woman having lost all respect as they took her again and again in the night.
They dressed as the ghosts we had been trained to fear.
Unholy war and the church it did condone these things.
I man scarred from the beatings of life as they called me a worthless nigger and a threat when really I was neither.
I man just a shadow of my former self as the torture continued unabated.
Overseer becoming Officer, Sherif becoming Sheriff and so many of us having sold out.
Wearing the badge with pride and honor as black men caught bullets in their bodies and fell bleeding on the streets.
Angel of death coming to claim their soul, bodies lowered into stolen ground.
I man wondering what I can do to wake just a few...
Start a revolution, spark a new mindset.
They so lost in Hollywood and New York dreams as rappers tear down the last walls of sanity, sell Molly dreams, Crack illusions all while spinning trap music in heavy rotation.
Chalk lines on concrete as I man fall prostrate and pray for the eventual death of my enemy, whoever he may be.
I man done wore to many ass whippings to be afraid.
All this blood, so much sweat and so many tears ago I man decided so.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY