This article is based on this Dutch article of Martijn Benders
There exists a peculiar silence, a whitewashed chasm in the poetic heritage of the Western world. A silence that screams when one seeks the few voices that have written about Fela Kuti. Fela, the African giant, whose music and resistance stormed through the world, remains confined within the lines of black poetic pens. The literature is silent, or rather: white literature is silent. How is it possible that a man of such influence, who anchored the complex narratives of imperialism, oppression, and freedom in every note and every tone, did not speak to the heart of the white poet? Did an insurmountable boundary run through that heart? A boundary perhaps defined by a shade of color?
I have always wanted to write a poem about Fela Kuti. Today it finally happened. I try to make the pages in my new collection react to one another:
I find that a very interesting form – and it is a form that is inherent to me. No other poet incorporates as much work from other poets in his collections. That is because the ‘psyborgs’ keep drawing strict lines: poems by other poets belong in a separate booklet, which they then call an anthology. This way, you have two collections for your résumé and two opportunities to win prizes. But if you put those poems in the same booklet, then, oh dear, that is not acceptable. Could it all have been more concise? This poet is working on an idiosyncratic oeuvre, but did that book really need to be so excessively thick? And so on.
I’m not concerned with that. This kind of crumb critique goes against my poetics: I am at the service of poetry, I give space to other poets, I let poems interact with each other – and I prefer not to do that in separate collections. The idea that poems interact and strengthen each other, without the artificial boundary of an anthology, reflects an engagement with poetry that goes beyond conventions or career considerations. It mirrors my belief that poetry is not a confined entity, but a living organism that is continually in motion and dialogue.
I am pleased that I have now been able to add a poem about Fela Kuti to my oeuvre. Fela can never be praised enough. Anyone who declares an independent free republic under a colonial dictatorship, a republic of music: against all violence, against war mongers, yes, the same mongers who are trying to shove their colonial wars down our throats again – because make no mistake, both Ukraine and Gaza are colonial projects of the West. Millions had to die again, simply because arms trade is the main pillar of a sick system.
And this applies to both oligarchic sides.
So again I call: Stop all War.
Again I call: enough with your collection manuscript.
Again I call: away with your diplomatic silence.
And to the smartass who now will argue that Professor Geert Buelens once dedicated a poem in Yang to the combination of Fela Kuti & Ornette Coleman, in the best jazz poetry tradition: that’s true, here’s an excerpt:
Beauty is a strange thing
it is a cliff thing and a
ring thing it is cast and
like a scamperer in gallop
The beauty as a scamperer in gallop is an ‘interesting way’ to describe Fela Kuti’s dance movements, that is certain.
is it like a weary swan
Copycat drive, novelty craving
the elegance of a compass set
To describe these two prominent black musicians as having the ‘elegance of a compass set’ is also a strange description after accusing them of copycat drive.
Diplomatic silence is also a strange thing. Fela Kuti and Ornette Coleman never performed together, never were brought together except by this white professor, in a curious condescending poem.
Fortunately, Geert has more sense in enforcing jury contracts. I am glad that I have now been able to create a Kuti poem which daringly hisses at the diplomatic silence in a Cobra-like swinging way.
Best regards,
Martijn Benders, 23-09-2024