I spent a bit too long on this one, I think. It's cool, I just forgot the whole point of doing this is to take pressure off, and kill the overthink. It's the home stretch, so I'll sprint the rest.

My title reference to French philosopher, René Descartes, wasn't total vanity. I've been thinking about négritude recently, so I thought I'd write on that. To briefly summarise (and horribly oversimplify), it's basically the quality or fact of blackness, and the affirmation of the value of black African culture and identity. As a movement or general school of thought, it was started by French-speaking African and Afro-Caribbean intellectuals in the 20th century. Anyway, it was a lot deeper, denser, and more complicated than I thought it was, with so many dimensions and aspects. I don't know where I stand on it as a thing myself. I think I may have found my future MA topic, because it's WAY too big to explore in a single poem. If you're curious, there's more on it here.

I ended up with a few versions of this poem. I decided to share this one.

Enjoy.

NEGRITUDE

There is nothing grandiose in bondage. I untie
my titles from your lips. You will not neuter
my black root and stem, or state I ought to paint myself in green
or red or blue to camouflage. I am no colour. I am no part of white. I will not de-grit
myself for you to pity me for how much I endure
to prove I am deserving of your gaze. Nor will I proclaim myself. I reign
regardless. I do not need your eyes to see that I am erudite
any more than light feet leak timidity. My sinews will not tune
themselves to your tone deafness. I will just be: twist and label-free. Just as a tiger
needs no battle cry to pounce upon his prey, so I need not roar or grunt
for you. Instead I am. And you are merely deer.