Other essays on this theme

Essay: "Love"

by Jean V. Belot
John's Twin

John was my God.

He stood 5', but had a monster heart. He ain't perfect but was just perfect for us. Well, he was all Man as that goes, but had him some weird notions 'bout love. Tom-foolery stuff. And I had loved him for it.

Yeah, he died; yesterday, last year.
I liked his notions though, 'bout women.
"Matriarchs," he'd call us girls. He used to like that yin-yang-like stuff and women, but he didn't really understand us modern girls. I'd love after doin' the nasty when we'd be all cuddly up and he'd say I 'conquered' him again; used to say men never 'have' women; said dudes psyched themselves sayin' they 'had' some girl in a telly (hotel). He would say she had him cuz she'd be the one takin' the boy's johnson; he be the one holed up, 'captured,' he'd say. "Mummified,' his johnson in bondage.

Yeah, dudes might 'invade,' give that punanny a good run and all, but bustin' off, he's spendin' his life to that girl. His insides; what kinda makes him man, like god to make child. That macho stuff's gone. He weakest, then, lettin' go all he is, all what's him and future. All that frontin' (acting), whateva pride he mighta thought he had be shot. Taken, he was 'had.'. To John, pure Love was kinda like that point, when nothin' else mattered, your thinkin' dying while givin' up your spunky life without fear.

Yea, Man might sub--'subjugate' the girl to orgasm. He might even get her strung out on the lovin'. Hell, he might even sub--sub--whatever! Her with muscle to rule by fist, but he can't really have her unless she chose to be got. Then, only with soul, too. Not just hearts cuz they can be crazy stayin' with a dude that be puttin' blows to her breakfast to dinner with a noonday punch. That ain't lovin', that slavin'. And some still love them bastards. Some-wrong with that loony love.

John used to laugh at dudes that say they pulled that girl or got that B-word-girl for bed or bride. Shoot, he'd say the boy be the one 'ttracted by sight or whateva. He'd be the one chasin', bein' the peacock --tho I know hussies that chase the dingalin like a dinner bell. Chow time. Meow, meow.

So I'm talkin' --cuz I ain't got no ears to wax this in; our children grown--'bout John's saying dudes' egos gotta be king, wanna control when they mostly not. She still be the one pullin' a man like a magnet, even some minds, too.

He wrote what he said was a 'sonnet' to me. I'll neva forget cuz he wrote it in my heart twice: In blood and with fire.
"This, here, secret most brothers just don't know;
He doesn't choose sh!t; the woman choose him.
He could make her laugh, put on a good show or be thug or snitch, or have dough or zilch
and the woman won't bat a n eye. Yeah, she'll
giggle or cry, get scared or mean and feel whatnot; looking just to see what you got under both hoods. Depending is she's hot, or not, or nerdy or dumb, single or married or lover, the choice will be hers. And you can give cards or beat on her door, Buy her flowers or hex a voodoo curse Crying eyes out, or scream all that you'll do. If you're 'it,' thank her by staying true blue."

I'll tell you 'bout that blood and fire later. He used to teach me 'bout history, 'bout girls and white folks way back. In Europe, 'bout how they used to hate women. I mean, like they used to dog'em, burn'em, drown'em, tar'em, kill'em and all. Like, was pets to cook, sew, clean, make babies. Sure, they had good ones. I'm talking generalities. Like most: done a lil' to a lot. They women caught brimstones with bare hands. Hell, we're still catching hell on a pitchfork; advantaged of in school, work, army, dates, home, and stuff. Men still stoning women today!

Anyhows, John got this Matriarch prince-pal from Africans way back when, before even white folks. He said that thing's in his blood. Before , the girl was a boy's twin, he'd say. It was the girl side they used to get their pharaoh and chief from. Girls were their priests, too. And they had they say in kingdom to village. Dudes mighta been thinker, builder, fighter and bread winner, but she rolled and baked him and that dough and reared child to age 'til men took the boys for training. He wans't no caveman orderin: You! Do. Now! Ugh. Yankin her hairs while a foot up her behind. And they wasn' sendin off they old to die alone, letting wisdom rot in some corner without their grandkids to teach. All that came afta the "Fall." It was all love between sexes way back yesteryears. Which make me think of John's funny notions 'bout religion, too. That that woman-twin prince-pal made everything and folks. It was God, he'd say. That God was queer. Not gay, like, but havin boy and girl in'in. Soft and hard like. How the oldest Afri-God was a pair. Like, two in one that made three. Like that Trinity stuff we good Christians got. That them gods and ghosts Africans had aint God-God, but god's lil' fingers. Divine babies he and his wife-in-him made. Making Creation, each itty-bitty finger did its job. But folks liked and praised some fingers more than others, more than the fingers. And like a hand, each god-finger had a sister or wife that her goddess-fingers of the other hand had. And both hands were the Almighty's. See, there go that Trinity again.

John made me feel a part of him. Who I was and how he loved me, What he loved me with was himself like himself and more. I was the outside of his insides. His mother, sister, wife, and life. His twin. He loved my nature he could make me come out in ways and how I thought and stuff. I aint think about my 'place' comparing to Man but with my man. He was the man and that was that. I, the woman and all woman. We'd let go ourselves to and for ourselves. For him, that was me and me him. We became one love. And lordly, that boy knew some things! Whewh! --where's my fan at? It getting hot in here. That boywas like a mathematician all over, solvin trigger-orgasmtry. When we did the nasty, it was like...cleaned of how folks think and expecting of sex from they mates. He made it so... natural. Shoot, let me stop 'for my 70-yr old butt go dust off my toy!

Anyhows, besides, things done changed. He said that Matriarch stuff started dying out with them Greeks. Said them--then "Ionians" or other, after being under Africans and taught -- like Greek Herodotus and Strabo-something-other who was there wrote back then--flipped the script afta that Alexander came up. He show me how Greeks changed up they names. Like, hold on... here: "Net to Athena, Hathor to Aphrodite, Ptah to Vulcan, Ansue to Pan, Hermes to Thoth," and so on and later, Isis and Horus to Mary and baby Jesus. It say here that even St. Augustine himself in Retract I, 13 knew what time it was. You wont hear much about that cuz white folks rulin, now, and how'd it look if the folks they think worse of first taught them? Shoot, they'd jump out of windows like when they money crashed back in -29.

I be sayin cuz it be like how we got to think and do love and girls, now. How it sits on a lot of junk in schoolin, work and play. I ain't talking everyday love or what pass for it. We most all know that. Girls was a bit important to them Caesars, us being their fortune teller being their holy woman and 'black doves.' John used to give them Greeks they props (credit) for making their own stuff, too. Going ahead with it. I betcha if common folk knew, life would be more cool with folks. They'd see we were the other side of the same coin. Get all you can outta love before you die.

But we're talking a whole lotta yesteryears growing up in the rough: long enough to change skin and hair and how you think. Had lil time for love, I'd speculate, surviving in ice age. But once thawed out and got comfy, they made fine things and wrote beautiful love poems. I can relate, you know, but shoot, I ain't known no folks, tho, aho'd ever think so fine to wanna cut an atom. For what? Just to see if they can? What an atom do to them?

So's John said that most why they treated women and every folks they 'discovered' so bad. From that long rearing, needin to autop- autopsy everythin instead of lovin what is itself. Themselves, too, till they learnt the world wasn't flat. And cut open and divide everybody from sea to sea. Guess all folks still growin up. Teenage brats that want everything they see, experimenting, breaking their toys and not really knowin why, not lovin their toys. We still aint adults yet.

Girls come a-ways in this circle, but men still spittin in our face. Like splashin us the face of that Abu-degrade stuff. That Lindy girl be dead-stinkin-wrong and show girls can get down like men. Why her face, tho, when more dudes did the Abu-normal stuff too? Blame the girls. Again. Cuz, I'm guessin deep-down dudes still hatin and fearin. No deep-down love unless it's solo for girlfriend or wife or mama and cash. John'd say like that Palestinian chikin his two sisters to death cuz they chose their own fiancées; them 'honor' killings for family name but not love or family blood where it counts. Or just human blood.

Then there's John friend IGod --now what in Jehovah kinda name is that--who be callin folks devils like Malcolm X did. Afta Mr. Flinney --a.k.a. Flinstone cuz he so mean and cheap---first hid John from the Po-nine (cops), and his fine (for a white girl) wife Sue, who ran him like he ran the store, argue that poleece Chief down for John, john started sayin they all ain't all bad. That some were like missionary types that be doin things for folks on love prince-pal. IGod''s say those do as if they goin to heaven for a 'noble' deed, not outta love, but some guilt trip; for a check mark on their resume card. IGod said , it not be their hearts, but for show and secret reason till their jobs done. John said the devils be their leaders. IGod'd ax where their rulers come from, then, but out the same pond. That'll always shut John up a sec', then he'd say what about their friend Brian, or that John Brown and A.P. Randolph cat? IGod'd say they be exceptions or have stakes to ride the coattails like they did King and Malcolm; like on their civil rights bandwagon like them hippies and kids and feminists and sex and bunch of revolutions that came out their closet.

They'd go back and forth with nobody within bout why folks love and what they do or not do for love and hate. Guess, everybody be lovin themselves more than anything. I be thinking if they loved like John love the girl then they'd love and help all themselves, too.

Well, I wondered about some of John's thinking cuz he mostly didn't trust white folks cuz of racism and some 'good' folks not even knowin they are till push-come-shove. The blood and fir stuff come then, same time him and IGod used to talk race. I wondered to find my John poking Flinstone's Sue in the church cellar afta bible study! Some studying they were doin...That went on afta, too, and it burned me so's I get some git-back instead of takin a nite with our one kid, then. Well, he found out, too, and stepped to my lover. The cat pulled out the hammer (gun) but John didn't fold. Scared the heebee-jeebees outta me, but he faced death for me. He took a bullet cross the arm, but got that hammer. He beat dude with it, but that cat snitched. That's when the Flinney's helped out and I didn't see John for two weeks. I ain't see Sue, either for that matter, he was holing up in her still, healin.

Made me jumpin jealous he gave her his best and heart, too, she then wantin to steal him to be groom for life. Couldn't get enough of him, even hurt. I guess she fell in love too., she havin tamed her mean hubby, loved John's wild heart, trying to tame what she couldn't and got tamed instead. Then John came back and asked me straight: what we're gonna do. Well, we chose each other then even tho I could see he still loved that girl. Knowing him now, he would have faced death for her, too. That's when he wrote that poem, afta we hooked back up.

I neva understood how he'd die for me but doin Sue at the same time. It took a year to really forgive each other. I didn't even ask why: white girl 13 years older when he was 15 years older than me!! Boy, that boy was some kinda backwards with his notions. He neva really understood women in common-sense ways. I din't hum, some , either. Girls always confused him, expectin them to see all what he saw and felt inside, till he learnt me good. Then come the most good times with our years. All the nice lil surprises wheneva I learnt about him and how he love me more with whatevea he learnt about me. How he was happy with joy to find something new and lovin me anew, like. And I got to know and love him like neva before.

Well, we've been through it all for the best rest of our years. Till he passed. He sure had some pee-culiar notions, tho, about women. He loved me and my whole body from big head to tiny toe. Okay, I'm zagerating, he didn't like my knobby elbows cuz I'd always nudge him with one. I guess my John was just...real. Deep-sensual, like. He didn't just love just to touch just my body, but loved to touch inside; to touch heart and soul or my spirit and caress my existence. All I was and been through that made me, me. He just loved women the old fashion way, I'd say, takin good with bad and makin something beautiful. Made me proud to be woman, his girl, when he could of skipped on me. Still, he let me be me and be the most sexiest girl in the world, which made him the most sexy to me. We 'conquered' life together. He was my other half, my twin.

And I ain't zagerating when I tell you the tom-foolery stuff he had put on his grave-stone, by some Yeates dude and from the good Book:
"Beauty is Truth and Truth is Beauty"
"God stands amongst the assembly of the Divine One; in the middle of the gods he judges: ...You are gods! And you are sons of the Most High, but surely you will die as men and fall like the princes." (Psalms 82:1-7) Yeah, and I was his Goddess, for sure.