UNDULATING PLAINS

“Undulating Plains” is the section where I sprawl my thoughts and intuitions out as prose. I wander and I wonder, through my mind and heart, across the length and breath of my inner life, dredging the depths and crowning the heights, as I stride ever forward in the long arch of my continuous existence, spanning many incarnations, like a sojourner travelling seekingly over these undulating plains and varied landscape of the many planes of existence in this wonderful Creation of God.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Undulating Plains

DON’T SURRENDER IT ALL TO AI

The primary aim of artistic expression is inner clarification of self, as well as personal spiritual development. The secondary aim is communication and sharing of ideas, which in any case always happens automatically as a by-product.

If you outsource all your artistic creativity to Artificial Intelligence, then, yes, finished works of a certain mould will be generated, but your spirit will not grow. And the purpose of your earthlife – the very purpose of life itself – will not be fulfilled. This lies alone in the continuous development of your “I” through self-exertion, self-clarification and the constant effort towards pure and accurate self-expression of intuition via thought into word and deed.

AI will produce works that resemble beauty, but will lead to the atrophy and death of the human spirit – unless you critically interrogate those works and then correct, reject or surmount them with your own personal effort, your own intuiting and reasoning. Don’t surrender to AI. Learn it but remain above it. Artificial Intelligence will make you look good, make you feel good, but only you can become better by yourself, by your own effort. The ancient rule is still the same, there is no short cut to success.

It is very imperative, in this era of artificial intelligence, for each person to remain personally creative, as well as spiritually and intellectually active and independent. Make the effort to think your own thoughts through to the end, and formulate and write them down by yourself. Compose, rehearse and record your own music. Make your own art. Draw the inspiration not just from others, but also, like before, from within the fathomless depths of your immortal spirit. Spend time in the silence of your heart, listening to your inner voice, hearing yourself by yourself and not from the programmed algorithm of an AI companion’s voice.

And also continue to do as many things with your hands as possible. Build. Make. Write. Go out into the world. Use your physical muscles, use your brain muscles, use your heart muscles, use your soul and use your spirit. And also, PATRONISE THOSE WHO DO SO, THOSE WHO STILL PRODUCE BY THE EFFORT OF HUMAN CREATIVITY. When you do this, you are not doing them a favour, but you are doing yourself and humanity and our future a SERVICE!

This is the only way they will grow. This is the only way we will grow. This is how we survived as a species over millions of years. This is how we got here. By the agency of Natural personal Human Intelligence. WE have always been the ones evolving, the ones plumbing our own depths, the ones developing. Thus: Woe betide us today if we now, tempted by convenience, hand that task now over to a self-programming and self-learning artificial algorithm we fashioned. Like the Zauberlehrling who can no longer deactivate or control the witchcraft he awakened. We would thereby have marked the beginning of the end of the story of the human spirit on Earth.

We are the generation that must tame the beast we have created, and ensure that it remains a servant and never becomes the cold lifeless master of our destiny, literally and figuratively. AI is wonderful for sourcing and collating information, and sorting and delivering it coherently. It is also marvellous at generating alternative versions of expressive output. But it cannot see the light. It cannot produce that individual unique recognition that can only come from deep within you. And it cannot produce the NEW, a truly new and different future. It can only regurgitate and re-permutate the past.

The production of Newness is still the purview and the task of the living and active human spirit. Let AI not be our last invention. Let us continue to bestir ourselves to intuit, imagine, innovate and invent even greater creations in the future, greater and higher than AI, and which also come from us – or through us. For WE are human spirit.

Retain your primary art-form in your hands. Don’t outsource it in the name of comfort, or vanity, or convenience, or competition, or materialism. Save and continue to develop that which is most valuable to us – our spirit. Let art, intuition and inspired thinking continue to be tools for personal inner growth through the joy of effort.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije

MINUET IN C

MINUET IN C
from my album „Class Act: The Nature Within“
https://listen.music-hub.com/3MgAgm

Che Chidi Chukwumerije

I’M FINE

How are you today?

I’m still hurting from yesterday
I don’t know what to say
I’m very sad even when I play
Lord, heal my broken heart, I pray
I’m lost, I can’t find the way… -

I’m fine, thank you
And you?

Thank you
I’m fine too.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river

AI CANNOT SATISFY

AI
Cannot satisfy
The longing for reality
The thirst for humanity
It can only replicate duplicate
Reiterate concentrate elucidate
Our past in all its profusion
The sum of all our confusion
Neatly packaged in a way
That appeals to our Today
But it will not give us anything new.
The future is still the spirit’s purview.
If we want the new then we must
Do what we have in the past
Always done to grow: Let go of the past.
Raising the intuition above the intellect
We much reach deep within our depths
And pull the new out from ourselves
Because there is a magic that flows from Above
Into our Intuition, our secret treasure trove.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river

IT TAKES A NEIGHBOURHOOD

I like them both
The two sides of Black
The one that is woke
And the one that looks back

I like both of them
The two sides of Black
The one full of flame
And the one that’s laid back

I like the Black that plays
I like the Black that fights
I like the Black that prays
I like the Black that delights

I like the Black that segregates
I like the Black that integrates
I like the Black that separates
I like the Black that tolerates

It’s all Black and it’s all good
It takes a village and a neighbourhood.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river

TRUTH IS FOR THE BLIND

Only the blind can speak the truth
Caring not where it lands
Seeing not where it opens wounds
Even in one’s Beloved’s own hands

Only the blind can follow the truth
Minding not where it leads
Seeing not that an abyss sometimes looms
For people, like themself, of honest deeds

Only the blind can bear the truth
Unbothered by its origin
Seeing not the size of the mountain it moves
Or the people and things it’s crushing

Only the blind can see the truth
No matter how bright and blinding its light
For the truth-loving heart is forever full
Of bold and unfailing insight.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river

VISITOR FROM HEAVEN

You were there
I saw you even if many others did not
You were there
I saw you even if even my eyes did not
You were there
I saw you.

I saw you in the swelling of my heart
In the paths that my thoughts did chart
I saw you, for they were thoughts of thee.
Thoughts of all those things which Thou art
The origin, the beginning, the head, the start
I saw you in my sensing of eternity.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river

A DEEPER SURVIVAL

The more the world is flooded with A.I.,
the more I hunger for natural things -
Natural images honest to the human eye,
a genuine human voice that sings -
Content that springs from the human “I”,
what the original human spirit brings -
The truth’s rough edges, not a smooth lie,
the exertion that with evolution swings -
The more the world is overwritten by A.I.,
the more I gravitate towards natural things.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije

Poems from the inner river

POINTS OF VIEW

You just assume it’s true
Because it’s native to you
You just assume it‘s true
That my blue is your blue

But my blue is really very red
rises like blood rose to my head
While your blue is green instead
the leafy verdure of a flower bed

Neither your blue nor mine
Is truly blue or azure or divine
The blues we see are but in line
With our maturity, depth or shine

Yet you simply assume it’s true
Because yours is native to you
You assume that I’m seeing blue
Just because it looks blue to you.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije

Poems from the inner river