BE MY GUEST! (I - VERONICA BENESI)

Nós, brasileiros, temos muito de África no nosso dia-a-dia. África está muito presente nos quatro cantos deste país, seja na dança, na música, nas artes-plásticas, na culinária e, muito fortemente, ligados pela História e pela Língua. Eu até poderia, facilmente, parar por aqui e dizer que tudo isso me levou a escrever o “África”. Mas não seria uma verdade completa.
Todos sabem que a base do povo brasileiro é composta por africano, português e índio. Se fosse somente pelo aspecto histórico-cultural eu poderia ter escrito um poema dedicado a “Portugal” ou mesmo aos “Índios”...
A verdade é que desde bem pequena eu já gostava de tudo que se relacionava à África: as músicas que se tocava nos terreiros de Umbanda e Candomblé, embora eu tenha nascido no seio de uma família católica; a Capoeira é fascinante! A religião, os Orixás, as artes, o jeito exótico com que as mulheres se vestem. O Samba!!! (ritmo bom demais), que é também de origem africana e tem seu significado ligado às danças típicas tribais daquele continente.
Ainda não pude pisar, infelizmente, o solo africano. Nunca estive em nenhum país da África. Mas já está nos meus planos uma visita aos “manos”. Gente admirável! tão forte, tão resistente às agruras sofridas no passado... E também no presente, com suas mazelas, que, guardadas as devidas proporções, são bem parecidas com as do Brasil.
Brasil e África estão “entrelaçados” por muitos pontos. E, embora geograficamente tão distantes, “entre” esses “laços” eu me posiciono: uma parte, sangue brasileiro; outra parte, africano.
Por todas essas razões (ou melhor, emoções) a motivação maior para escrever o poema “África” veio mesmo do coração.

Kandandos carinhosos da “mana” brasileira,

Veronica

Belo Horizonte, 10 de julho de 2008.

*****

ÁFRICA

(Aos manos Africanos)

África
O que fizeram de ti...
.
África Negra
De tantas riquezas
Quanto mal a ti
Fizeram
À tua gente
À tua beleza
.
África Incolor
- porque a alma
não tem cor -
O que fizeram a ti
Ao longo
Desse monstruoso
Holocausto
- que perdura! -
De opressão e de dor

África Mãe
O que fizeram a ti...
.
Alheios
Ao teu consentimento
Teus filhos
Foram arrancados
Do teu seio
E acorrentados
Passaram a viver
Suas Histórias de porão
Por mares
Nunca d’antes navegados
O mar da escuridão...

O mesmo mar
Que tuas lágrimas
Ajudaram a salgar
.
África Retinta
Teu tão extenso
Continente
Diz a toda a gente
Tu és Preta
Tu és Black
Tu és Negra
Tu és Branca
És Negra Assa[1]
Tu és Fula[2]
És Mama-África
.
Estás em todos
Os lares
Em todos os Cantos
E recantos
Desses Mares
.
Mas não apenas
Os de Lusitanos ares
.
Também, aqui,
Na América do Sul
Há uma gente
Que de irmã te chama
Que é parte de ti
E do teu drama
.
Uma gente
Que se orgulha
De ter teu sangue
Nas veias
Corrente
Teus descendentes
.
Somos nós
Da Terra das Palmeiras
Onde canta o sabiá
Teus manos
De cá
Das terras Brasileiras
.
Hoje um oceano nos separa
Mas aqui deixaste
Uma herança de base
A tua fala
Estás cotidianamente
Presente
No “pirão”, na “quitanda”,
No “samba”, no “fubá”...
- “Oxalá”!
.
África Diáspora
Agora mais do que nunca
Levanta-te
Toca teu tambor
Mostra ao mundo
A Cor
Desse teu imenso
Valor
.
(Veronica Benesi)

Belo Horizonte, MG, Brasil, 02 de junho de 2008.

[1] Assa (A) — o negro albino
[2] Fula (A) — de cor parda e brilhante (filha de pessoa mulata e negra)

*****

Veronica blogs @ COM TODAS AS LETRAS

Veronica - Virginia Rodrigues

[Read about the song Veronica, here]

JUST POETRY (II)

We deal in too many externals, brother
always afros, handshakes and dashikis
never can a man build a working structure for black capitalism
always does the man read Mao or Fanon
I think I know you would-be black revolutionaries too well
standing on a box on the corner, talking about blowing the white man away
that's not where it's at yet, brother
calling this man an Uncle Tom and telling this woman to get an afro
but you won't speak to her if she looks like hell, now will you brother
some of us been checking your act out kinda close
and by now its looking kinda shaky
the way you been rushin' people with your super black bag
jumping down on some black men with both feet cause they're after their BA
But you're never around when your BA is in danger...I mean your black ass
I think it was a little too easy for you to forget that you were a negro before Malcolm
You drove your white girl through the village every Friday night
while the grassroots stared in envy and drank wine, do you remember?
You need to get your memory banks organized brother.
Show that man you call an Uncle Tom just where he's wrong
Show that woman that you're a sincere black man
All we need to do is see you shut up and be black
Help that woman
Help that man
That's what brothers are for brother.

JUST POETRY (I)

Telephone Conversation

The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. ‘Madam,’ I warned,
‘I hate a wasted journey – I am African.’
Silence. Silenced transmission of
Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lipstick-coated, long gold-rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was, foully.
‘HOW DARK?’… I had not misheard… ‘ARE YOU LIGHT
OR VERY DARK?’ Button B. Button A. Stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfoundment to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis –
‘ARE YOU DARK OR VERY LIGHT?’ Revelation came.
‘You mean – like plain or milk chocolate?’
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose. ‘West African sepia’ – and as afterthought,
‘Down in my passport.’ Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece. ‘WHAT’S THAT?’ conceding
‘DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.’ ‘Like brunette.’
‘THAT’S DARK, ISN’T IT?’ ‘Not altogether.
Facially, I am brunette, but madam, you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused –
Foolishly, madam – by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black – One moment, madam!’ – sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears – ‘Madam,’ I pleaded, ‘wouldn’t you rather
See for yourself?’

- Wole Soyinka

SUNDAY COVER & POETRY (X)

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{Poem: A Martian Sends a Postcard Home, by Craig Raine. Raine is founder and editor of the literary magazine Arete'. His poetry collections include The Onion, Memory (1978), A Martian Sends a Postcard Home (1979), and History: The Home Movie (1994). His latest book is T.S. Eliot: Image, Text and Context (2007) - in Life Lines 2/Poets for Oxfam/Edited by Todd Swift, 2007}

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

BOAS ENTRADAS!

KANDANDOS!

SUNDAY COVER & POETRY (IX)

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{Poem: Jesus Isn't Just For Christmas , by John Hegley. John Hegley's collections include Glad to Wear Glasses (1990), Can I Come Down Now Dad (1991), and Dog (2000). His latest collection is The Sound of Paint Drying (2003). He has also released his own CD of songs and poetry Saint and Blurry. Musician Keith Moore accompanies John Hegley on his track here - in Life Lines 2/Poets for Oxfam/Edited by Todd Swift, 2007}

MERRY XMAS EVERYONE!

SUNDAY COVER & POETRY (VII)

"In positing any solution we have to be aware of some historical background. Africa was colonized at a time when the nation state was a primary determinant of the historical process. The consequence was that the continent is today divided into more than forty-six-states – more than three times the number of Asia, whose land mass is fifty percent larger. This was done largely to further the interests of European power and commerce."

(...)

"Given that Africa was wrongly assumed to have had no history of its own before the arrival of Europeans, it is hardly an exaggeration to say that Europe created the image of Africa that the colonial period bequeathed to the world. Europe drew boundaries and undertook to establish a civilizing government in each with hierarchical administration and military support – according to the prevalent model of the nation state.”
(...)
“The question cannot be, do Africans have human rights, but what do Africans understand and desire their human rights to be? Otherwise we are yet again remaking Africa, and Africa’s struggle, in the image of our own modernity, or more truthfully, our own recent past.”

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{Poem: Europe, by Sarah Maguire. Sarah is the founder and director of the Poetry Translation Centre. She has published four poetry collections. Her latest, The Pomegranates of Kandahar (Chatto & Windus) is The Poetry Book Society's Summer Choice, 2007. in Life Lines 2/Poets for Oxfam/Edited by Todd Swift, 2007}

SUNDAY COVER & POETRY (VI)

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{Poem: Double Wedding, 1615..., by Jane Yeh. Jane is a Lecturer in Creative Writing at Kingston University. Her debut collection, Marabou (Carcanet, 2005), was shortlisted for The Whitbread Poetry Prize and The Forward Poetry Prize For Best First Collection. in Life Lines 2/Poets for Oxfam/Edited by Todd Swift, 2007}

SUNDAY COVER & POETRY (IV)

(…)
Talking about gender issues she laments: “Young men should learn to be more gentile with women. They must not be like their older brothers, some of whom kiss and tell.” This reference is clearly directed at Hugh Masekela’s revelations about their marriage in New York City in the early 1960’s. She then recalls the words of her late ex-husband, Black Panther leader, Stokely Carmichael (aka Kwame Toure), whose speeches included: “We have to respect every woman, even a woman who is one day old. Why? Because some day she will grow up to be somebody’s mother.” And she adds words of disappointment: “One thing I’m not proud of was to marry Hugh Masekela.”
(…)
And Makeba also urges young South Africans to be more curious about their continent that has done so much for our liberation: “We have to stop it (xenophobia) and know that Africa belongs to us and we belong to Africa. And together we should walk and walk tall.”

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{Poem: What Is Exotic?, by Sujata Bhatt. Sujata is an India-born poet and translator. She received her MFA from the Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa and now lives in Germany. She has published seven collections of poems with Carcanet Press. in Life Lines 2/Poets for Oxfam/Edited by Todd Swift, 2007}

SUNDAY COVER & POETRY (I)

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{Poem: How To Leave The World That Worships Should, by Ros Barber. Ros is an American-born British poet and writer. Her books are How Things Are On Thursday (2004) and Not The Usual Grasses Singing: A Journey Around The Isle of Sheppey (2005). in Life Lines 2/Poets for Oxfam/Edited by Todd Swift, 2007}

POETS FOR OXFAM

Life Lines 2 - POETS FOR OXFAM - Edited by Todd Swift

On this audio CD 56 of the English-speaking world's most acclaimed poets each perform a piece selected from their own repertoire. They have donated their time free, and have waived all of their publishing and performance rights for this recording. All profits from the sale of this unique CD go towards Oxfam's work, in more than 60 countries. (Published 2007)

PUT A FACE TO YOUR SOMEBODY!

{THE SONGS IN THIS POST CAN NOW BE LISTENED TO HERE}

You can't say we shall and not fight through hell
You can't say we will and not dare to deal
You can't shout out peace and then vanish in the crowd
You can't ride a storm without some effect
You can't steal the spoil and not pay the debt
You can't wave a sign that spells “evil” and feel truly proud
You can't sing a song with no melody
You can't say we’re one without unity
You can't form a line if you’re too scared to stand alone
You can't pray for grace and then smack her face
You can't speak of hope and then crack a joke
You can say you’re there but time knows
How much you've grown

Put a face to your somebody

Can you say your name or would you rather stay unknown
Can you show your face or are you fearful of it shown
Can we feel your heart or does it beat for you alone
Lift the glass up high say that your truth will never lie
If your love cannot be moved

You can't look at me and not see yourself
You can't say “for them” and not for who else
You can't truly bless and not bless the good of all
You can't serve the rich and desert the poor
You can't hear their cries and just close your door
You can't say you’re down and not take it to the wall
You can't benefit from one's detriment
You can't find the serum and not cure the sick
You can't free the slaves to enslave them differently
You can't see the right only from your sight
You can't see the wrong and just go along
Or is that the way you would want your fate to read

Put a face to your somebody

Can you say your name or would you rather stay unknown
Can you show your face or are you fearful of it shown
Can we feel your heart or does it beat for you alone
Lift the glass up high say that your truth will never lie
If your love cannot be moved

You can’t make a pledge and then flip the script
You can’t say the words and not move your lips
You can’t be confused and still say you understand
You can’t be a friend but not through thin and thick
You can’t be a click but in danger split
You can’t evenly share and then grab the biggest hand
You can’t say you do but then show you don’t
You can’t say you will and make sure you won’t
You can’t want for change and not do what you need to do
You can’t give your all then take back all you give
You can’t live to die but you can die to live
Or is that too much to ask of the you in you

Put a face to your somebody

Can you say your name
Or would you rather stay unknown
Can you show your face
Or are you fearful of it shown
Can we feel your heart
Or does it beat for you alone
Lift your glass up high
Say that your truth will never lie
If your love cannot be moved


If Your Love Cannot be Moved
Stevie Wonder (Feat. Kim Burrell)

If I'm caught at a dance party without my dancin shoes.And everybody dances on my bare feet.Shame on me…If I'm mindin my business just doin the right thing.And you try to front me off in the street.Shame on you…If a family's waiting for that special blessing to come their way.But they ain't tryin to get on their knees and pray.Shame on them…And if we live in a time where every nation's fightin 'round the world. Yet we can't all agree that peace is the way.Shame on us…Shame on me, Shame on you, Shame on them, Shame on us…So what the fuss.If I gotta get up early in the morning for a job interview.And I forget to set the stupid alarm..Shame on me…If my children are playin outside like little children do.And you come 'round there tryin to bring them some harm.Shame on you...Should I be drivin thru a klantown, find a restaurant to get me some food.And someone says "hey boy, we don't serve your kind".Shame on them…And if we live in a democracy and you don't use your power to vote.Knowin’ some would like to turn back the hands of time.Shame on us…Shame on me, Shame on you, Shame on them, Shame on us.So what the fuss…If I'm hooked on a habit knowin’ damn well it could cost me my life.Yet I keep doin’ what I should do without.Shame on me...If you're locked in a marriage and your other half just gives you abuse.Yet you've convinced yourself that there's no way out.Shame on you…If we're jammin the music and somebody's got the audacity.To say that they can jam it better than us.Shame on them...And should there be just a handful that believe that we are totally free.And there's no need to fight for equality.Shame on us.Shame on me, Shame on you, Shame on them, Shame on us.So what the fuss…


So What The Fuss - Stevie Wonder (Feat. Prince)

Some people ask me why I’m always on the bright side.When there’s so much going down on the other side.Its like I live in a bubble with no trouble.And problems don’t exist…I chuckle and tell them that ain’t the case at all.It goes way back to the time when I was very small.Not in mind but size and age my papa used to say.You can always look at the negative.But you should always live in the positive.So I try everyday to live in that way.Yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah, yeah,yeah,yeah …Some people live in the what was and what they could have been.As opposed to livin in what is and how much they can.And be the first to complain about nothin’ in life going their way.The attitude is “that there I can’t do nothin’ ‘bout”.And very happy with just breathing in and out. The ones that when you say “lets go make a difference”.They’ll say “naw, that’s okay”.So I don’t waste time on the trip side.Cause I do know the real on the flip side.And I’m crystal clear everyday that’s why I say. Yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah, yeah,yeah,yeah…When I see the morning.And the sun is smiling down upon me.I joy in the blessing.That still the ground is not above me.And for the people.That I can truly say do love me, I feel.Positivity.Cause that’s what life means to me.Positivity.Cause this day did not have to be…Some ask me why am I such an optimist.When it’s more fashionable to be a pessimist.From what’s in seventy-five percent of what we read here and view.Well, I used to have a friend named Minnie Riperton.Who used to always say when she was livin’.”Like fine wine I like seeing the glass of life as half full than half empty.I’m not sayin’ sometimes life can’t be rough.But never to the point of me sayin’ I’ve had enough.Long as my heart beats I ain’t givin up.That’s why I say everyday. Yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah, yeah,yeah,yeah.When people ask me as an African-American.What do I see for tomorrow in the human plan.Is it possible for all people of the world to co-exist.I say unity is only as big as our vision.And if its narrow, strive to expand beyond the horizon.But true leaders must guide us through the ills of society that stand in our way.So if the road is to harmony, be with the call.But if its about discord, don’t take the ride at all.Cause the world vision I see is a one-we for everybody. Yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah, yeah,yeah,yeah …When you see the morning. And the sun is smiling down upon you.Just joy in the blessing.That still the ground is not above you.And for the people.That you can truly say do love you, do feel.Positivity.Cause that’s what life’s meant to be.Positivity.And that’s the energy the world needs.Positivity.Cause that’s what life means to me.Positivity.Cause this day did not have to be…Positivity. Cause that’s what life’s meant to be.Positivity.And this day did not have to be.Positivity…


Positivity - Stevie Wonder (Feat. Aisha Morris)

We have time for racism.We have time for criticism.Held bondage by our ism's.When will there be a time to love…We make time to debate religion.For passing bills and building prisons.For building fortunes and passing judgement.When will there be a time to love…At this point in history we have a choice to make.To either walk a path of love.Or be crippled by our hate…We have time to cause pollution.We have time to cause confusion.All wrapped up in our own illusions.When will there be a time to love…We make time to conquer nations.Time for oil excavation.Hatred, violence and terrorism.When will there be a time to love…At this moment in time we have a choice to make.Father God is watching while we cause Mother Earth so much pain.It's such a shame…Not enough money for.The young, the old and the poor.But for war there is always more.When will there be a time to love…We make time for paying taxes.For paying bills and buying status.But we will pay the consequences.If we don't make the time to love.Now's the time to pay attention.Yes now is the time...


A Time to Love - Stevie Wonder (Feat. India.Arie)