Listen Siblings, I come in peace,
On the streets, I asked a woman, “What institutions do we have to propagate self-love?” As most of our people would answer, she opined that self-love is an individual’s responsibility. This reflects the foreign mindset imposed upon us to weaken our resolve for community and replace our memory of Originalism. Hence why we organize.
Today we discuss “Love” by showcasing an ancient love poem from the 18th Dynasty of KMT. It’s a wonderful expression of the impressions a man gets from the woman he loves. She may be flawed–we can’t tell–but her description makes her seem like she’s ‘more perfect than the world.’
Without organizing and building Prosperous, Independent African Communities, we can not expect this sort of love. That’s putting ‘the cart before the horse.’ We need institutions for knowing ourselves, we need outlets for being ourselves, and then we’ll have the capacity to complete ourselves in loving unions (Knobeco–“Know, Be, Complete Thyself”). But now we must organize.
Below I want you to read of this ancient ‘love.’ But when you’re finished, I want you to commit to the African Blood Siblings. You can think this poem or be the recipient of this poem, when we Maroon and Build For Self. Support the African Blood Siblings and Subscribe others. Write to help build African Blood Siblings Community Centers and download and distribute our flyer. Read more insightful poetry in “Maroon and Build For Self.” Subscribe, share, love.
One, the lady love without a duplicate,
more perfect than the world,
see, she is like the star rising
at the start of an auspicious year.
She whose excellence shines, whose body glistens,
glorious her eyes when she stares,
sweet her lips when she converses,
she says not a word too much.
High her neck and glistening her nipples,
of true lapis her hair,
her arms finer than gold,
her fingers like lotus flowers unfolding.
Her buttocks droop when her waist is girt,
her legs reveal her perfection;
her steps are pleasing when she walks the earth,
she takes my heart in her embrace.
She turns the head of every man,
all captivated at the sight of her;
everyone who embraces her rejoices,
for he has become the most successful of lovers.
When she comes forth, anyone can see
that there is none like that One.
*I am relying on Runoko Rashidi for this title. He adds below: “The above poem is the first stanza of an ancient love poem from the XVIIIth Dynasty of Kmt (Egypt of the Pharaohs).” He also dedicates this poem to the African woman, the Queen of the Universe. With Prosperous, Independent African Communities, all men can.