There is something
I want to write
– this has happened to me before –
That is:
It is the poet who wants to write it
While I, the pen,
Am yet in the dark
I only feel the heat of inspiration
The dark ink, flowing
The red blood, going
Somewhere
The wind, blowing…
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Have you ever wondered if all the great deeds of nation builders also secured them a mansion in God’s House? Have you ever wondered if all the brave deeds of freedom fighters also helped them in the battle against the darkness in the Beyond? Have you ever wondered if all the profound thoughts of thinkers also showed them the way upwards once they crossed over into the other side? You see, I am one of those people who DO believe in life after death. The question is: Of everything we do while here on earth, which of them really make any difference to what happens on the other side? And then my thoughts go to the little acts of kindness and love that soften the harsh human day and brighten the dark night of inner loneliness. And something tells me that this alone will show the way when one day your feet are lost in another world.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Light, Light, yon distant star
Ever and on you move
Forward, forward, always so far
Away in the distant grove
You call, I come, and then you are gone
You beckon, I follow, all on my own
Love, Love, yon burning star
Ever and on you go
Forward, forward, near and yet far
And forevermore we follow
Who is in my heart? Who are you?
All I know is that I love you.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Lebe die Gegenwart für sich
Gib nicht die Mühe, sondern gib Dich
Schaffe nicht, um später zu genießen
Er sucht nicht die See, der Fluß, er liebt das Fließen
Der Weg ist nicht das Ziel
Denn es gibt weder Weg noch Ziel
Es gibt nur das Leben und den Augenblick
Dein Leben in diesem Augenblick ist Dein Geschick
Jeden Tag über der Arbeit gebückt
Holt man nicht in der Rente zurück
Drum aus dem täglichen Leben
Alles nehmen, ihm alles geben
Die Realität ist die Gegenwart
Und das Tor in den ewigen Innengart
Das Paradies ist kein fernes Land
Das Paradies ist ein Zustand.
– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.
aus meinem Gedichtband “Innengart“.
I heard a whisper
Which made more sense than it could have
And less sense than
It did
I felt a touch
Which was more intimate than it could have been
And less intimate than
It was
I met a stranger
Who looked more familiar than he should have
And less familiar than
He did
I perceived an odour
Which smelled nicer than it must have
And fouler than
It could
And then I saw a tempter
Who seemed exactly like I knew
A tempter ought not to be
Yet I knew it was temptation
Because it never answered my smile
Not the smile you see on my face
But the smile
That lives, always silent, in my heart
And the tempter
Does not answer this smile
Because how can you answer
What you don’t hear?
The silent smile who waits so gentle
Resides in everybody’s heart,
And anything that answers not my smile
Is not mine.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
During the day, they’re saving the world, sharp-minded politicians, stern-faced armed forces, convincing philosophers staring into the camera and huddled around their boardroom tables, anchors, performing the news, personifying stability and the guarantee of mankind’s future – during the day they’re saving the world. At night, see them grope in the dark for a hand, listen for a friend, any friend, yearn for something, anything, to fill inside them this deep hole opened by loneliness. Chronic. Everyday we set out with loud voices and brilliant thoughts to save the world, but who on earth is going to save us too?
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
I just saw
The most beautiful woman I have ever seen
On earth…
I just heard
The most touching birdsong I have ever heard
On earth…
I just lived through
My most breath-taking dawn ever
Upon this earth…
I just said
The most beautiful thing I have ever said
On earth…
Yet my spirit only laughed
And whispered:
Even more beautiful could it yet be.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
The reflections of the things we love
Reside in our hearts,
A descendant of the primordial dove
Within everybody darts…
Dart on, dart on, star of heaven –
Eagle, dove or raven.
The reflections of the things we seek
Reside in our souls,
Be they bright or be they bleak,
Fulfilling their roles…
Play on, play on, lead us there –
We must pay our fare!
The reflections of the things we are
Flicker in our eyes;
An angel, a beast or a solitary star
That never ever dies…
Shine on, shine on, little star –
I know who you are.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Das Fenster ist ein Klischee
Bevor ich es zerschlage
Rolle ich es lieber vorsichtig runter
Morgen könnte ich es wieder gebrauchen
Nicht umsonst fahren meine Gedanken
In unterschiedlichen Richtungen
Nachts durch die Stadt
Vorhänge zu, Fenster auf und drauf
Da begegnete ich Dir unter einer Brücke
Innige Küsse, brennende bangende Herzen
Ehrlichkeit ist ein Augenblick
Einer kurzen flüchtigen Umarmung
Doch das Fenster ist ein Klischee
Wir fahren an einander vorbei
Beide gucken weg
Und alle schauen zu, daß es klappt.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
In the Distance, mysterious and magnificent
There spreads a group of towering mountains
Who, in total appearance
From left to right, in shape and aura
Looks like a wild horse,
Frozen in mid-gallop.
And there is a legend, aye there is
About the heroic wild-horses
Who, long, so long ago
Had guarded these mountains
So that nobody had been able to come near them
Or of mounting these towering rocks
Nay, Mountains.
Beautiful wild horses. Killer-beasts of different colours
Guardians of this mysterious mountain-range
From an era immemorial. – – –
Finally, an earthquake split off the Wild-Horse mountains
From the rest of our land
Such that it now floats, an Island
Barely visible miles out into the mysterious ocean
And called by everybody “The Island of Wild-Horse Mountain”.
Are the wild horses still there? Guardians!…?
What have they guarded for so long?
Seven people on one boat,
Trapped by a violent gale at sea one summer evening,
Decided to quickly beach on Wild-Horse Mountain Island
Before the sea wrecked their boat
And killed them.
Now you must understand that the legend
Of Wild-Horse Mountain
Is just a legend.
It is possible that this small island with its rugged mountains
Has ever floated right there in the ocean
And that it was all never a part of our mainland
And that no wild horses had ever existed.
But the legend claims that the Wild-Horse Mountain
Had once been on land, our land, guarded by wild killer horses
Until an earthquake turned it into a floating island
So many aeons ago.
Nobody really believed, but you know how it is:
Everybody likes to repeat legends.
It was the Silence
That first struck these seven people
When they landed ashore.
Immediately, they were gripped by a tension
And an uncanny excitement
Which they could not comprehend.
The gale at sea suddenly died
Yet they remained on the shore of the island
Gazing up in awe at the Wild-Horse mountains.
These people were three couples and one lady,
Seasoned Adventurers
And, all of a sudden
They decided to explore the mountains themselves
To see if they would find any relics
Perhaps bones or any other things
Which might perhaps substantiate or contradict
The old Legend.
So they began.
They moved in a group towards the mountains.
But night fell
And they camped and slept.
In the morning they began to search –
There are seven mountains that make up this breath-taking range,
And in six days they had explored six mountains
And found nothing. –
On the seventh day, they mounted the seventh
And, over half-way up,
Heard a strange sound below them… and,
Looking down,
Saw the entire valley suddenly
Populated by horses nobler than the noblest steeds,
Silent as tombs, with angry fire roaring out of their eyes,
Watching them…!
The ancient wild horses; the beautiful legendary killer-beasts.
Alive.
It was eerie. They seemed to have come out of nowhere.
In a flash, the wild horses
Charged up the mountain, towards the intruders.
Looking up, the humans saw a light glow on the mountain-peak
And it occurred to them suddenly
That it was a race to the top.
They just knew it!
If they got to the peak before the wild horses
Then they would be left to live…
But if the wild horses caught up with them
Before they got to the summit
Then they were each dead and gone for life.
So the race began.
Up they sped, faster and faster
Empowered by the threat of death
And the possibility of victory and life.
But the wild horses, too, continued to gallop their tested
Way so quickly and surely up this seventh mountain,
Pursuing them deathly,
And still they were all silent.
But if the horses were wild
And if the mountains looked like a wild horse
Then surely these virgin mountains were also wild.
Only now did the intruders
Suddenly understand the true meaning
Of the name Wild-Horse Mountain.
Suddenly, like a very wild, untamed horse
This seventh mountain bluntly refused to be mounted.
Ever and again it bucked
And threatened to throw
The human beings down, into oblivion.
And then…, the near inevitable happened…
One of the humans missed his footing… and fell!
He rolled into the path of the merciless wild horses
They tore him brutally apart…
His partner, seeing this, lost her balance
And pummelled down to her death too…
One by one, singly and yet in pairs
They all began to slip, stumble, fall
Thrown by the bucking of wild-horse mountain.
In the end,
Only the lady made it to the top
While the three couples fell back and died
Pursued by wild horses,
Betrayed by a wild mountain,
As all mountains, how ever tame, are actually very wild.
At the peak
She found that the light glow was in truth a path.
On it was a proud Stallion, calm,
Who had eyes that were almost human.
She mounted him
And he bore her grandly down the winding
Gently-sloping path that led into the very heart
Of the entire Wild-Horse Mountain Range…
Unexpectedly they came across the
Green Valley.
Her breath caught in her heart
As she beheld the precious treasures
The unbelievable Prize
Which the wild horses had so faithfully
Guarded from that time unremembered:
She saw a colony
Of magnificent winged horses,
Each exactly as she had always
Imagined Pegasus would be,
Only even more beautiful were these…
For the first time ever, one of us
Encountered the valley of life
Where the winged horses had been
Slowly evolving over millennia.
There, deep inside the gentle heart
Of the Wild-Horse Mountains
Guarded faithfully by unchanging unwavering
Wild killer-horses
Without fear, without question
Aided by a stubborn mountain.
Their leader’s name was Sram.
He spoke to the lady from the land of men.
She mounted him, he beat his wings, and, together
They visited awhile the Land of Tomorrow
Where, one day, the Earth will also be…
And noble animals will roam the earth again
And noble human beings will bestride the earth anew
And the winged flying horses
That the lady saw in the valley of life
Will make a friendly abode with humans on earth
For a long time
Yet to come.
When next you see a wild horse
Do not try to tame it
But remember:
That wild streak in her
Is the sole guardian
Of a beauty
That yet sleeps, silent,
Within the heart of every human being.
– AKA TERAKA (Che Chidi Chukwumerije)
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 