Falling BLACK in Love . . ..” by Mike Phil

Listen Siblings, I come in peace,

“Love is one thing, knowledge is another.”KMT Proverb

There’s little more pleasing to the ear, than her mind; there’s little more pleasing to the eye, than her face; there’s little more pleasing to the fingers, than her body; there’s little more pleasing than her. Mike Phil below explains how Black love is the goal. It’s true. But we don’t have any communal spots for which to meet those gems of loving, knowledgeable and wise Africans. It’s your duty then to build those spots. Write the ABS for more information. Below I comment on Mike Phil’s article.

Falling BLACK in Love…

by Mike Phil on March 3, 2011

Once in an elevator I spotted a young lady. I was on my way to work and she was on her way to who knows where. At that moment, to quote The Godfather (one of my favorite movies), I was hit by the “thunderbolt”. Visually stunned, I took in her beauty. Her skin was a deep chocolate, her hair a kinky mass of velvet black, her teeth white like new Easter Sunday shoes. I think everyone in the elevator noticed my dazed glare. She looked at me in a questioning manner. Almost as if by some compulsion I blurted, “You’re so beautiful.” She smiled and appeared shocked. I think everyone including me was shocked. She was not the kind of girl who would understandably have men in such a state of adolescent panic. She was not some modelesque type with the generally accepted wow factor.

I can only do my best to describe what I felt at that moment. It makes no sense at all that I would feel that way about a total stranger. In five minutes of her presence I thought of things that hadn’t crossed my mind in all the years of my romantic relationships. I saw in her a wife, the mother of my children, the keeper of my house, and the comforter of my soul. She was like a vessel that swept me away to a place that I have never been, but had always been looking for. Home!

I pondered the entire day on what had happened inside of me. The misery I felt as she exited the elevator. What was it about this woman that had unraveled me so easily? It came to me suddenly that I loved her blackness. Every detail of her was unapologetically and beautifully black. Every part of me understood and appreciated every part of her. It was as if I had been living in a strange country my entire life and unexpectedly met someone from my homeland. This was in fact my first taste of Black Love.

The very nature of a black man is to love a black woman. I’ve come to realize it after that experience. He can love any woman, but not to the degree he can love a black woman. I state this with no reservation and remorse for those it might offend. For that brief moment I loved her hair, because it was the very hair that grew out of my own head. I loved her skin, because it was the same skin that covered my flesh. I saw her as the mother of my children, because I knew when I looked at their faces I wouldn’t be able to see my half or hers. I would only see us. At that moment I loved myself more because I was looking at everything that makes me amazing. I could never love a woman of another race that way.

Black men through history have tried to embrace their blackness through various means. They have marched, grown locks, and changed their last names to “X”. In my opinion, none of these actions hold a candle to the self-love he could achieve through loving a black woman. That truly is the most revolutionary act. It rages against everything this oppressive society has taught us. Loving a black woman in a society where she is rejected and devalued by European standards of beauty is the ultimate rebellion and reclamation of one’s self. To find her beautiful is to realize the true beauty in yourself and to boldly attest it to all. The act of Black Love erases all the injustices and imbalances that have shaped the black experience in this country. It’s the coming home for men who were once sold away repeatedly. It’s the validation and healing for women who were once treated as sexual objects for breeding and entertainment. No other union can achieve this.

All love is great! Feel free to love whoever you want, however you want. From this black man to all black men and women, I say BLACK LOVE IS THE BEST. We all can love ourselves by ourselves. Black love is the only way to be able to love and understand yourself, through someone else. It’s the best way to love our people in an apparent and passionate manner. This world constantly beats us down for who we are. Black men, the act of loving a black woman is the most violent resistance possible. Black women, the act of loving a black man is the most beautifying process you can undergo. So let’s love each other….”till the end of time.”

Source: http://thefreshxpress.com/2011/03/falling-black-in-love/

The beginning reminds me of a time when I had seen a woman who reminded me of the continent so greatly that every impulse in my body moved me to speak to her.  For me it was not a romantic pull, like this man professes, but a true pull to a mother who is so distant from you.  Some think that the fascination of Africa is undue, but there truly is so much beauty in our color, our fashion, our look and our people that I find the lack of fascination and appreciation more undue than the presence.

Besides that, I agree that loving a Black woman is an act to be appreciated.  Though, I would not at all make it seem as easy as it here looks.  I will edit my most recent Fable–“Knobeco and Love” for your consumption.  You’ll see that it is difficult to find love–if you didn’t already know.  ;-)

Hotep and be yourself!

Related Posts:

GrievancesOur Grievances
Dr. Ben on “The Symbolism” Kemetic Symbolism
Of Despising the Minstrel Music ethics
Africans Should Love Everyone Love Everyone
Fable: Knobeco and LoveComplete Thyself

4 thoughts on “Falling BLACK in Love . . ..” by Mike Phil

  1. ” I saw her as the mother of my children, because I knew when I looked at their faces I wouldn’t be able to see my half or hers. I would only see us”
    Mmmmm, lol…

      1. Yes I’ve read that. I just think it’s funny how he just said that…with biracial families it’s always “this one looks more like they’re white side, therefore they’re better than the ones that look mostly black” smh

      2. Kandake (Warrior Queen-Mother),

        “They saw themselves as others seen them. They had been formed by the images made of them by those who had, had the deepest necessity to despise them.” — James Baldwin

        The African in a Biracial Couple is already incredibly confused. People are brought together by spirits, spirits who are interested in that union and the propagation of its people. The African in a Biracial Couple all but ignores these spirits, including his or her internal spirit. They are self-hating. Confused and self-hating.




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