Truth is the referee of trust. Truth and truthfulness, not perfection. Nobody is perfect and everybody does wrong sometimes or makes mistakes. Trust does not hinge on perfection and it cannot do so. Trust hinges on truth and truthfulness. You trust people, not because they are perfect, but because they are honest to you.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Undulating Plains
Die fremde Welt da draußen Die fremde Welt hier drinnen In mir ist es genauso fremd wie außerhalb von meinem Sinnen und mir. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Im Jahrzehnt der deutschen Dichtung
Love is a light It illumines the heart And makes it bright And it is light Like a winged cart Rising to the height Love is a chart It always goes right Right from the start Love is the highest art Love is the deepest light Of which Happiness is a part. Love is the light of the heart Love is the happiness of the heart Love is the strength of the heart. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
I don’t run from the pain. I hold it inside until it hurts no more. That’s how I deal with it. Time is irrelevant, because time stands still. Only experiencing, internalisation, transformation and growth are important. And once those have taken place, the aching melts, the pain stops hurting, drops off and goes away – but not before giving me all its energy and all its wisdom; and awakening in me the capacity to take in bigger worlds tomorrow, and the Newness to love again another day. But above all, it reboots my spirit and re-ignites in me the Childlikeness to one day trust again with a healed heart. But with more circumspection and attention to detail next time.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Undulating Plains
Die kalte Erde
drückt den Schnee
fest gegen ihre Brust
so fest, es tut ihr weh
Schmerzmittel
Herzkittel
Kälteres Jahresdrittel
und es tut immer noch Weh.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Im Jahrzehnt der deutschen Dichtung
Trust is a thread
Is an earthenware pot
Is a glass cup
Do not break it.
Sow with it a garment of protection
Cook in it a meal of spiritual nutrition
Drink from it the water of eternal affection
And never break it.
It is hard to remake it.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river
Egal wie weit Du gehst bist Du stets unterwegs zurück zu Dir Und wenn Du schneller wegläufst kommst Du um so früher bei Dir wieder an. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Im Jahrzehnt der deutschen Dichtung
We expect more from sex than it can give. And when it fails to give it, we take more and more and more of it, demanding with even more intensity and urgency from it that which it is unable to give. Unable to give because, no matter how deep and intimate it is, in the end it’s still just sex. It can never fulfil your soul. And the real you, the human spirit, is in the soul. There is a depth of unhappiness that it cannot fill, a height of joy it cannot reach. There is a fineness and exactness of intimate connection which sex can only crudely attempt to approximate without being able to fill the gaps.
The gaps that sincerity can fill; the gaps that honesty can bridge; the gaps that integrity can close; the gaps that trust can repair; the gaps that homogeneity can make disappear; the gaps that reliability can heal; the gaps that a shared Ideal and a common goal can plug; the gaps that working together can eliminate; the gaps that intimate truthful conversations can undo; the gaps that a harmonisation of thinking and intuiting can cure. All the gaps that the best sex in the world cannot fill. No matter how often and creatively we try to find the fulfilment therein.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Undulating Plains
The snow is red but not with envy Heavy with the weight of thought Waiting for the warmth of friendship Forgiveness and love and a drop Of sunlight to melt into the ground Going it looks ugly but it’s not Letting go of what you thought you’d found But, patience, the Earth will eat it all up. Are you snowing, are you falling Are you resting, are you thawing Are you meting, are you calling For companionship while you’re withdrawing? Slowly withdrawing… Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
Wir schaffen bis geht nicht mehr denn es geht nicht mehr Wir tragen einen Traum doch trägt der Traum uns? Woher wolang wohin? Ich weiß es nicht. Arbeiter und Angestellte tun ihre Pflicht und blicken auf ihre Hände - leer. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Im Jahrzehnt der deutschen Dichtung
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 