Good Morning
To every urge that always makes you get up;
Good Morning
To every discomfort that has never let up;
Good Morning
To every dream that lifts your head up;
Good Morning
To every memory that makes you fed up
With lying down lamenting and self-compromising
While the day is dawning and the sun is rising;
Good Morning to restlessness,
The twin-partner of purposefulness.
Get up! and keep seeking to reach, or grasp, the Horizon -
No matter what you have found before
There is always something more.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Line your pockets with seeds of hope
Find purpose when you secretly grope
through your hidden emotions, touch
one, touch all, no emotion is too much,
no matter how intense. The deeper
the grip, the closer it is to the reaper -
And you are the reaper of what you sow.
Empty your pockets of what you know
As you walk the road leave a flower trail
The Grail finds you if you seek the Grail.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Some will want
Wanting will be their front
Some will taunt
Taunting will be their front
Some will flaunt
Flaunting will be their front
And some will be gaunt
But it won’t be a front
It will be real, for wont
Of everything they want.
Everything they lack -
A place to call their own,
The feeling of being at home -
They want it back.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Sometimes
You need to cross the boundaries
To know the boundaries.
To lose yourself
To know yourself
When you‘re walking through hard times
working your way through your stories.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Kwame, you would have turned 47 today, but that dream died a long time ago. You didn‘t even quite make it out of teenage.
But, brother, your few poems have long made it unto the pages of our hearts for all eternity, like footsteps on the sands of time.
Why was I born? Why were you born?
Into this Earth.
My birthday always makes me think. This year more than ever, I don‘t know why. The questioning thought: Everything I‘ve done in the last 48yrs, have they in any way really fulfilled the reason WHY I WAS BORN? Or have I up until now, in a deep subtle way, just been wasting my time? For I was not born in order to celebrate that birth annually. Viewed logically, that‘s a senseless feedback loop – unless augmented, nay, superseded, by a PURPOSE – and the fulfilment of that purpose – of my birth into this earth.
49 years ago, I was not here. I was not a part of this daily hustle and bustle, getting into cars and busses, voting in elections, raising kids, being earthy and doing the earthly. So, where was I? And why did I come here? Where were you before you were born? And why did you come here?
Every year the certainty that I‘m closer to my earthly death, to my departure. I just feel it, so strongly. That reduced distance. It‘s not just a piece of general knowledge that we all have: Everybody dies one day. Yes we all know this. But it is more than this. It‘s also a solid emotional perception, a physical presence that comes closer, that you can feel when you close your eyes and pay attention.
My birthday makes me think, not just of birth, but also of death.
My brother, Kwame, aged 19, died on my 21st birthday. It was a few weeks before his own 20th birthday. The person closest to me. Why did he come? Did he or did he not fulfil the purpose of it? And then he was gone again. It‘s a date we share, in life and death.
Life existed before we were born into it. It was perfect, already. Before we were created, Creation was already formed and perfect. This realisation makes me think and there is no end to this reflection. Just a clear line of perception – an intuitive perception:
You are not without a reason and not without a purpose, unless you fail – consciously or unconsciously – to discover that reason and that purpose; and then to – deliberately or instinctively – fulfil that reason and that purpose.
It‘s a serious and thought-provoking business meeting your birthday again, and still not knowing why. Or knowing if you’re fulfilling why, as best as you can. Year after year.
I don‘t need to celebrate my birthday. I need to reflect upon it.
When you don‘t know
what to throw away and what to keep
When you don‘t know
when it‘s time to laugh and when to weep
When you can‘t tell
if you’re wide awake or fast asleep
When you can‘t tell
the difference between shallow and deep
any longer
like you could when you were younger
and materially weaker but spiritually stronger
then you need again to reconnect
with your original and most honest hunger
For the inner voice of your deepest hunger
Is always correct.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 