(REBIRTH)

And I woulda reached into the ether, formed you of the stars and planets that glimmered in the depths of space.
On a moonlit night.
I woulda breathed of the vapors and exhaled them into the form of you.
A gasp... You awakened.
I woulda had tears of exclamation and surprise in my eyes
Yeah I woulda cried.
My tears dropping on your perfect brown skin.
It absorbing them.
I woulda held you in the deepest esteem as I protector stood supreme against any who threatened our dream.
The perimeters of all our cities, towns and villages.
I woulda draped you in all the finery that this planet could provide.
Fed you the finest meals that I a man could provide.
Just a smile and I would melt down to the deepest particles of my very core.
Willing and able participant in all that could and would commence.
And I woulda carried you with me in my dying, a sigh and I looking into your eyes.
I woulda spoke of you in the all as I returned.
Immortal.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(BLOODY HELL)

(BLOODY HELL)

Sound...
https://youtu.be/BD9f0t8P7sE

Bloody water in city gutters flowing on down into the sewers...

Dirty water made that way by a mans DNA, life stolen so young.

Life running down the proverbial drain.

Enough to ache the very real brain.

Black ain't easy in this truth and reality.

Black wanna kill black... White wanna eradicate black.

Black the evil that skin placed on a child's back.

Born to be the anomaly.

Blood spatters on tapestries that tell the story of our ignominy.

Such a savagely orchestrated brutality as played out logically.

Baby's dying as old men seek to live eternally.

Pieces of placenta and bit's of stem cells.

Bloody experiments and bastardized ancient rituals.

Bloody water flowing from lifeless form.

Body incinerated and gone.

Don't nobody even give a damn.

All he was a man.

Such lofty notions as sold religion.

Cliques, gangs and nations.

Man done forgot his station.

Bloody handprints on the pages of all these pages of all these lives.

Bodies lying used and abused on the slab.

A self perpetuated, psychologically induced state of insanity.

Bloody water washing down the storm drain.

Blue and red lights flashing in the black.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Racism as an instinctual concept.

Racism as an instinctual concept.
A discourse by Jerald Murphy.
https://youtu.be/WDxYyjYjDz0

(LOOK)

(LOOK)

THIS IS THE TONE.

DONT MISS IT...

https://youtu.be/vCJY2NSSU1g

Could I hold your hand across the table...

Look into your eyes?
Could I unwind as the scene passes us by... Glasses clinking in the background.
Could I speak of my innermost thoughts...
Show you the surface of my peaceful planet.
The place where I and I silent resideth
Where I king would queen thee...
Such a fragrantly poignant image that it would waft pheromone over hue-manity.
Cause deep thought.
I and I single, a savagely poised lyrical beast...
You by my side and I would eviscerate time from its swinging pendulum.
Our love sang of in far distant times...
Read in schools of future thought.
Look into my eyes.
Could I hold your hand?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(JUST A DROP)

(JUST A DROP)

From his corporeal being he heaves...
His quake would shake whole of societies...
Trembling in their very philosophies.
Their makings of slaves and psychological repression.
Children suffering cause parents poor abound.
The very systems holding them down..
Pressure drop and subsonic rumbling as the beaten heaves a sigh.
Trees bearing fruit and seeds bearing trees.
Saviors born on the killing floor...
Demons spawned and unleashed.
White shirts and black gowns can't hide true identities.
Him but a small part of an immense span of man.
He heaves...
He sighs.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

Looking into her eyes and a man fell spiraling into love quite like a pine seed falling to earth.
Such a bittersweet thing, they separated by the miles.
From afar he watched her spread her wings and grow... From afar his heart and cerebellum ached.
He quite smitten yet unable to feed his infatuation.
Sad days and the man walked the sad walk of loneliness.
The people saw it in his face, his eyes.
They asked him why he never smiled and he just looked at them like mosquitoes, always buzzing and blood sucking.
She the one and only thing that would satisfy him.
He loved her mind so.
She a beautiful flower grown in the rough, she a clear stream singing such a sweet song as it trickles by.
A sip... So refreshing.
One day... One day she went away and the man into funk fell.
So deep and the darkness... Oh the darkness was deep but the man having lived previous live knew, if she was meant to be they would cross paths again.
He trodding through this life knew.
He in his way waited... And waited... And waited.
One day Lo and Behold she appeared and spoke the mans name.
Oh the glory!
And he rejoiced.
His heart... Oh his heart.
He rejoiced.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(WHO ARE "THEY"?)
THE SOUND OF "THEIR" DAY...

A man stands in the rain crying... So much water, and he wonder's if anyone knows he was crying.
So stoic is he.
A man standing on a street corner reminiscing over life and the consequences... The eventualities and the awful reality.
Babies born to die while in pursuit of life.
A man standing in the rain drowning in the pain.

In the rain there is movement, all around, the day doing its thing.
The man makes no attempt to escape the rain, in fact he seems to revel in it, to become a part of it.
He sees her, her movements so fluid that they seem feline.
Such femininity and he raises his arm, drops fall from his fingertips and meld with rain on its way down.
Gravity.
The way of things.

Her kiss is as light as a drop of softest drizzling rain and it soothes the mans pain...
She looks at him with overstanding and he in turn grows stronger... His heart is slowed and breathing calmed as the rain continues to fall.
Glistening in her hair, dropping from the naps.
Her eyes, and he wonders does she cry along with him.
So hard to tell as the water falls all around them.

He is suddenly overcome by emotion and he raises his hand and rubs her hair, he marvels at its softness and he pulls her to him.
They cling to each other as a bus passing by reveals the passengers looking at them in bewilderment.
These two hue-mans embracing in the rain.
It running in rivers down the gutter.

They do not say anything, these two as a flash of lightning precedes the rumble of thunder.
He looks at her and suddenly finds himself unafraid, she has that effect on him.
She has since ancient times in his mind, in his way of reasoning.
He loves her so and still he says nothing.
She looking at him overstands.
Him and his pain.

The rain continues to fall sideways as he takes her hand and they turn.
They walk away melting into the driving rain.