WORLD SO COLD (IT FREEZES IN HELL ALSO)

Cold are these days as they pass unabated.

Temperature so hot in a cold cold world.

Man in a lab preparing the next scourge.

Disease, drugs and money the curse.

Babies taught to worship material things.

Religiosity preached as spirituality as Allahs angels cry tears from the clouds.

So much potential crushed right from birth.

Only a step removed from worshipping the beast.

Man and his mate on bended knee.

Tricked into believing that marriage hinges on a ring.

Houses built on the sand crumbling to dust generational.

From infant to teen, adult to old man.

Black hair turning to grey.

Still haven't realized a damn thing as ideologies create Idiocracy.

As wisdom misperceived creates this new disease.

These days so cold find man homeless on a plain in the midst of plenty.

Would that man could see, would that man could be.

Infinitely.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 

THE CURSE... THE BLESSING... THE NEED AND THE WANT.

I spoke into existence rose from the ashes.

The charred remains of my ancestors falling from my frame.

I the quintessential black man born of need not want.

So many who would confuse the two, so many confused by those in the pew.

Needs not wants, Jesus didn't drive a Cadillac or wear Jordans, not even the equivalent.

The ashes umbilical falling from my infant frame, 

Voices calling my true name and I born screamed at the heavens.

Why must I see these things, why must I see this way.

Love such a fleeting thing, my tears turning into dust as the fall.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

I born speak of these things.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(HUNG LOW)

The  beat pounding at my temples, points of impact imminent,  I a walking talking representation of the most high, a relatively nice guy.
A one man army capable of toppling whole systems, this my soul the trigger,  go figure as Allah guide I.
This language I speak, sometimes  legalese, at other times these streets, systems would crumble to death at these feet.
I a madman on these black and white keys, a veritable symphony as I emphatically type psychopathically,  these tomes who I be as as I ascend gracefully,  winged angels soaring in mine skies.
Fear but an emotion to be trodden down, found these days on my battleground as I beat drop subsonically, my people once slaves freed, I son seed  would fill thy needs if only thy would heed.
Child born of the heart of a fallen star, carbon, water and who thou art, would that I could impart.
This the beat that fantastically forms the being me.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 

(THE HARSHEST REALITY)

Every year I grow a year older knowing that not a damn thing I say is reaching not a motherfucker I designed it to effect.

My words falling into the abyss of forgotten things, they overshadowed by trivialities made to seem humongous. 

What a motherfucker is wearing the badge of acceptance as another child falls slain by the bullets of an uncaring gun held in the hands of an uncaring youth, a prejudiced cop, these the way to genocide. 

Such a soft piano track playing in the background,  an angelic choir singing in stringent tones.

Rising and falling like a chest gasping its last breath, a street corner in a man's ravaged mind.

Ancestors blood running like tears to the core of the earth, tears evaporating and becoming the rain washing away the stain.

My words wafting on the breeze and drifting away, my time here but a millisecond as I a bard try to make my mark, if only I had another lifetime, if only I had come a little harder.

I just a man watching these days pass by on my way to the end, my bones one day the dust that new civilizations will be built with.

Every year they remind me with fireworks and jubilation  that every word I utter is a dying one.

I fading into the forgotten have to deal with this.

This the reality. 

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 

(BRIEFLY)

Some days I think of heaven and its relation to you and I... You such divine fruit encapsulating I a man born seed inside... Here I go again lost in thy moistened flesh... A sigh pon my lips... A fall through my lidded eyes and I... Whew... I remain suspended supine in thy tranguillity... I the beat in thine layers... The bass in thy place... Thy dew the amber keeping me solid dimensionally...I transfixed intergalactic... Tethered and complete... Scattered to a trillion particles... Thighs parted thou causeth I to gasp... I on the precipice... So soft... So pink... Thy the portal to my innerspace... The most secret of my clandestine places...A soft lick... A gentle whisper... A soft touch... Nay a firmer one... a moment as I savor of your essence... A second... An eternity as I dip.. deeply into the essential core you.

The dew...

The dew.

THE VAPORS

And time, time finds me once again retreating to this, this my fortress of solitude.

I so many miles away from the source of my indecision, she so fragrant in my mind, my soul yearning for her touch.

The caress of her voice on my scarred psyche, the electric jolt of her touch on my skin.

My heart beating an echoing song into the valley of my indecision, I so wanting in my need.

365 days ago I looking upon her and wishing I could say the things pounding at my temples, her young queen and I, I wandering king, these streets of Babylon mine home.

I pondering if I should open the doors to this mine kingdom.

So long the wait as seasons changed and I filling my days with concubines, they leaving me empty in these my caverns.

Her lips calling my name causing the blood to boil in my veins, the slim curves of she holding me enthralled, I wanting her in my world so fucking badly. 

That was then and this, this is now, I now knowing her secrets and she mine, I a captive to her charms, subsonic in nature.

We together moving as one, I having known her since the creation of time, we beating as drums on an African plain, we roaring lion and lioness as the sun crosses the sky.

I replaying these things so many times that they have become engraved in who I be.

I superman cringing in fear wondering is she my salvation or my end, these feelings, these feelings.

I having placed this distance, I having retreated to this, this my fortress of solitude to discern.

I once solid am now drifting on the vapors ethereal in mine nature.

I miss her so, damn, I miss her so.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY 

(ONE SUNDAY I SAID UNTO SHE)

It's Sunday as I alight pon thine planet, It wouldn't matter if it it were any other day. Thy so appealing to me as I whiff of thine air, so sweet in mine lungs. A moment as I touch thine earth. Thy beneath mine fingertips. So pleasing, and my heart doth pound in mine chest. I transfixed and transposed.  A slight dance along these words as I man try to elucidate thee mine queen. To draw thee universal, cosmic and infinite. Mother of a new world, born of the old. My light falling upon thy mountains and thine valleys. Such sweet tea as I sit back and sip mine coffee, a puff of the blunt and I swept along sing with these keys and characters. This my dear is a sweet fall song, whispering faintly among the breeze swept leaves. A sigh, a soliloquy. 

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY