the africa in pedro morejon

slowly descending, as if from the clouds above,
thinking of africa, i find myself enthralled!
rhythmic africanism swell and dwell inside
the fingers of my cuban mambo eyes.

the african rhythms i hear are native, native
from my cuban land, it is as if my guaguanco
was shipped to africa, when it was the other
way around, but nevertheless all my colors are the same.

i hear the merengue in french haiti
and in dominican blood,
and the guaracha in yoruba,
and the mambo sounds inside the plena
so close to what i really understand,
sometimes i think
that cuba is africa,
or that i am in cuba and africa at the
same time, sometimes i think africa
is all of us in music,
musically rooted way way back
before any other language.

yes, we preserved what was originally african,
or have we expanded it? i wonder if we have
committed the sin of blending? but i also hear
that AFRICANS love electric guitars clearly misunderstanding
they are the root,
or is it me who is primitive?
damn it, it is complicated.

i had a dream that i was in africa,
it took me along time
to find the gods inside
so many moslems and christians,
but when i did, they were the origin of everything!
then i discovered bigger things,
the american dollar symbol,
that's african;
the british sense of royalty, that's african:
the colors in catholic celebrations,
that's african; and ...
ultimate listen here ... closer .
come on closer ... sshhhhhh .
two whites can never make a black .
two whites can never make a black .
two whites can never make a black .
but two blacks, give them
time ... can make mulatto ...
can make brown can make blends ...
and ultimately can make white.

oyeme consorte, pero no repita esto,
porque si me cage el klu klux klan
me caen encima con un aleman
me esparrachan con una swastika
y me cortan la cabeza. pero, es verdad:
dos blancos no pueden hacer un prieto.

i went to africa and all of it seemed cuban,
i met a cuban and all of him was african,

this high-priest, pedro, telling me all of this
in front of an abandoned building.

---

the salsa of bethesda fountain

the internal feelings we release
when we dance salsa
is the song of manu dibango
screaming africa
as if it were a night in el barrio
when the congas are out

the internal soul of sa]sa
is like don quijote de la mancha
classical because the roots are
from long ago, the symbol of cervantes
writing in pain of a lost
right arm, and in society today,
the cha-cha slow dance welfare

the internal spirit of salsa
is an out-bernbe on sunday afternoons
while felipe flipped his sides
of the cuban based salsa
which is also part of africa
and a song of the caribbean

the internal dance of salsa
is of course plena
and permit me to say these words
in afro-spanish:
la bomba y la plena puro son
de Puerto Rico que ismael es el
rey y es el juez
meaning the same as marvin gaye
singing spiritual social songs
to black awareness

a blackness in spanish
a blackness in english
mixture-met on jam sessions in central park,
there were no differences in
the sounds emerging from inside
soul-salsa is universal
meaning a rhythm of mixtures
with world-wide bases

did you say you want it stronger?
well, okay, it is a root called africa
in all of us.

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