It’s morning already,

But I still can’t see the waxing moon or the star(s),

Don’t feel the dawn,

But I feel her spirit….

 

it’s morning,

change in the wind, dun come already…

So I’m working hard (for my freedom),

Writing hungrily into the next day….

(i am like that) hungry/chick

 

I don’t wonder (about), so much as,

Embrace….

 

 my destiny,

 and desire

 to be free.

 

So I do what I please,

mould joy from what I have.

 

Truth is,

There’s alot to give thanks for,

 

yet, my dreams speak of pause (ing/the present),

 and looking back….

 

I remember the monstas that broke hir (ancient/temple) walls.

Every night,  I get chased by the same monstas, wearing different masks,

But always, that blue beard.

 

This symbolism is of the chosen ones….

the sacred ones….

Spun from the looms of the sistas of fate……

Fetched from the deep (of the) hidden one,

The one who has many (magical) names.

 

This is what this story is about,

 m is for khensu.

moon-god(des)s.

 

riddle me this,

riddle me that,

tell me an ancient creashun story

 

tell me a love story.

of the divine union.

the love that the Queen of (the) Sheba(ns) and Solomon shared,

(en) of their son.

 

of the empress and her king,

en the night she slept in his palace….

 

Tell me a true/r version of the eve story…

I want all the excised details.

Of her endurance in my features,

And the improvised twist in the tale,

 

I want every kink that you come across,

Da kink,

That I can embrace into livity,

That I may restore to it’s fullness.

 

Loving every part of me,

En him,

En s/he,

En her.

 

This (kinda) poetry is simple,

It’s about me en my love(s),

My chosen kin,

En soulmate(s)….

 

Somewhere along the way,

I found everything I was looking for.

 

Even though they kept asking me to stop asking so many questions,

Even though they questioned my sanity,

Even though they tried to stop me from going on my travels.

 

Even though I was scared,

Even though I was once complacent and silent,

No mas!

 

I know different,

I feel,

I think, (different/ly)

I live, (en know that I yam not alone in charting brighter possibilities)

Therefore I must  (com/passionately)

EXIST.

 

Our

Truth

(is)

In my memory,

 

For I is a long memoried wom(b)an.

 

I re/member

The (magical) names,

recited in the (saite recension of the)

 book of the dead….

 

(somma) dem were

 

Khnemu.nehep.

Khnemu.khenti.taui..

Anqet.amen-ra.

Nut.na-ari-k.

Kasaika, arethi-kasathi-ka.

Amen-naiu-anka-entek-share.

Thekshare.amen.rerethi.

Nasaqe-bubu.

Thanasa.

 

Hidden is thy name, letasashaka. Your name is bai-re-qai.

Your name is marqatha. Your name is rerei.

 

Your name is sharsha-thakatha…

 

Grant that I may have peace in the tuat.

 

[parabola treatment: this narrative is more than a poetic exposition into myth or the symbolism of language. It is more than a literary attempt at reclaiming identity through foreign paradigms….it is about what the words say they are….you do the English……find the meanings of the names that have been listed….reading is never a passive exercise…and I am not prepared to feed you the answers, i’m hungry for them myself….en so I work to over stand situations and shift paradigms.

To guide you along the way, because that is really my self-appointed role in this hadithi, allow me to explain the purpose of this narrative, look at me as the messenger…so don’t come shooting me out…these are not my words

….i have travelled to distant lands, resettled (at) home en yearn for more…..

I have yet to travel through all the regions that the nile passes through….have yet to go back to (my true true) home….have yet to find my resting place….but still I know the paths to follow….I can show you the source….and the mountains of the moon….some of my kin still worhip close to the sacred lake….though many were forced from those ancient sites, centuries ago…..the evidence is in the sotries.

So who better to show you some of the sign posts, than this Afrikan daughta, the one who was always lookign for something (more)…..

i’ll take the best of deconstructive strategies birthed in queer theory…..apply a foucauldian and perverse presentism framework to this whole piece of fiction….

because that is what this really is, fictive genealogies,

mapped from my lived experiences and my afrikan herstorical readings…..

I’ll take all these facts and tell you the story I think I read….

 

This is about resistance morphing into the fruits of our sacrifices…

this is teaching community….a pedagogy of home….

revolushunary politics in praxis…..this is what you want it to be.

 

This not my story, do with it as you will….

As a guide, who’s marking my own sign posts,  I can tell you that it is important to pay attention to the series of classes and distinctions between the different forms and names of amen-ra…en noe that in this rendition, the names of amen- ra are not Egyptian, they appear to indicate a Nubian origin…en yet according to contemporary Egyptology, the worship of amen-ra was introduced into Nubia by its Egyptian conquerors early in the XIIth dynasty.

As a guide, i can only ask you to pay attention to the signs.

Either way I’ll (try to) tell you our (true/afrikan) stories. parabola end.]

 

This is a classic world story,

Like the one about how the world floats on the back of a turtle,

True, dis story,

I read it from another story teller,

A king…

He wrote, the truth about stories…

 

Don’t believe me?

Find out for yourself….

 

But this story is not about the turtles,

It is about the mother who laid that egg…

The creatrix….of many names,

En many faces….

 

Like the goddess mut.

The great lady of ashert,

The lady of heaven,

The queen of the god/desse/s.

Mut who giveth birth but was herself not born of any.

 

Great lady of heavens.

Lady of the life of two lands,

Lady of the house of ptah,

Queen of the two lands,

 

 

[parabola treatment: one of the great temples of mut was built at thebes by amen-hetep III, about 1450B.C.

IT WAS APPROACHED FROM THE TEMPLE OF AMEN-RA BY AN AVENUE OF SPHINXES;

THE SOUTHERN HALF BUILDING OVERLOOK A CIRCULAR LAKE ON WHICH

THE SACRED PROCESSION OF BOATS TOOK PLACE, AND AT INTERVALS,

BOTH INSIDE AND OUTSIDE THE OUTER WALL OF THE TEMPLE ENCLOSURE WERE PLACED STATUES OF THE GODDESS MUT, IN THE FORM OF SEKHET, IN BLACK BASALT.

Another famous sanctuary of Mut was situated in the city of Pa-Khen-Amen(e)t. This city was also called “Thebes of the North, or the CITY OF THE NORTH,

To distinguish it from Thebes, the great city of Amen which is always referred to as the “City”…..a perverse presentism strategy would view this piece with an analogy of new York city…and it’s status as the big apple and the historical location of THE statue of LIBERTY……

If 2 books could speak to each other, then gender trouble would speak with how Europe underveloped africa, and we would come up with the answer in our questionings…..why it’s the goddess blindfolded ofcourse….the ultimate conquest of nature are our civilisations and language….

the answer lies in reclaiming our past, and coming to terms with our present. Parabola end.]

 

there is another story i know about a goddess, called hapi…

 

who came in peace to (re) make Egypt,

the hidden one,

 

the waterer of the fields that Ra had created

the friend of bread and of TCHAB

 

lord of fish,

 

creator of barley,

 

who makes the temples endure,

for millions of years…..

 

the memory is in our skin(mask)s.

the truth is (in) our present state.

Advertisements