Mots pluriels
    no 7. 1998.
    https://www.arts.uwa.edu.au/MotsPluriels/MP798foj.html
    © Femi Ojo-Ade

    Poetry by Femi Ojo-Ade
    I. pelourinho II. mulata III. tropicana

    I. pelourinho
    (for ieda)

    we
    followed
    the afro-bahian sound of the drums
    down stony paths once trodden by slaves
    into a section of the city they call savior
    we
    went
    past sick-looking souls drowned in drugs
    past a rainbow of colors at once reminding of home & abroad
    we
    reached
    the seat of this bloco afro
    the center of our renewed culture
    black brown brothers & sisters
    responding to the rhythm of bata gangan omele dundun
    responding to our presence with renewed relish
    bringing us back to the joys of gelede egungun erinle obalala
    reminding us of what we once had & still do
    inspite of Civilization
    inspite of colonization
    inspite of victimization
    inspite of themselves & ourselves

    pelourinho
    home of olodum & others belonging to black brazil
    pelourinho
    symbol of a culture struggling to breathe
    pelourinho
    confluence of colors concretizing the new africa
    yet
    pelourinho
    symbol of our shame as we're shoved from the center
    pelourinho
    essence of the commercialized culture sold & bought
    pelourinho
    another aspect of africa
    beaten
    bastardized
    dead

      or
        dying

    africa
    a bela e a feia
    beauty & the beast
    africa
    la belle et la bête
    beauty yet beast
    africa
    enia ati eranko
    human & animal

    we danced to the rhythm of the drums
    among strangers we called brothers and sisters
    with dançarinos afro more african than we could ever again be
    pelourinho-paradise
    made us forget the human merchandise
    leading up to that moment of ecstasy
    just as we discountenanced the illiteracy
    preventing our people from progressing beyond that false paradise

    pelourinho
    you mesmerize me
    you amaze me
    you can't blame me (?)
    for not fully comprehending
    you
    you
    my conscience
    you
    my consciousness
    you
    my confusion

    we
    danced and danced and danced
    then my fellow-traveler wondered aloud
    why
      these
        people
          are
            still
              behaving
                  like
    savage pagans and heathens!

    II. mulata

    blonde brown-skinned
    blue-eyed chestnut-haired
    straight-stub-nosed
    curly-kinky hair
    whatever whatever
    they call you
    mulata cheinha
    brazil's one and only beauty
    cynosure of all eyes at
    carnaval
    big bouncing boobs in a country
    obsessed with small breasts
    big bulging buttocks
    in a culture crazy
    for caucasian flat backside

    america would call you black
    with your droplets of afro blood
    tho' you may pass for white
    in a culture treating black with spite

    africa wouldn't see you for what you are
    with her color-blindness or carelessness
    tho' she's got colonists' abandoned offspring
    scattered all over her sad landscape

    my
    mulata
    of others' dreams
    my
    soul-scorching
    heart-rending
    mulata
    of our nightmares
    my
    off-white off-center
    mulata
    of their carnaval
    I
    see
    you
    for what you can
    be
    for what we all could
    be
    for what we all could share
    but
    for which nobody could care
    less

    III. tropicana

    un paraiso bajo las estrellas
    a paradise under the stars
    neon-lights are shining over revolution boulevard
    the sun of liberation's triumphing thru the night
    my black brothers and sisters are dancing in the streets
    they're driving their american cars straight out of the 40s & 50s
    they're hailing castro's cuba their heaven on earth
    they're hurling stones at batista & america

    on revolution row
    hospitals are meant for healing
    they're neither execution centers nor cemeteries
    doctors diagnose & treat diseases
    factories function & produce
    universities are towers of knowledge
    professors teach & search for truth
    the system's thriving to the dismay of the
    imperialist desperate for another disaster
    while watching african neo-colonies
    decay

    we've come from africa
    observers from afar
    we're watching and wondering
    we're impressed yet depressed
    blacks are working everywhere but managing nowhere
    they're visible yet invisible
    blacks are directed they're not directors
    they're being led but not leading
    blacks are most prominent as entertainers
    they're the best runners & jumpers & dancers

    and they're still dancing and dancing and dancing
    tonight
    bolero chachacha charanga
    la musica afrocubana
    they're leaping and laughing
    they're singing soulful songs
    to the delight of foreigners from america and africa and everywhere
    dollar-paying fans in fidel's tropicana
    that poor paradise under the sad stars

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