Diamonds and pearls
Gold, frankincense and myrrh
Silver and jewels
Precious stones, rubies, crystals
Treasures…
Beauty is a thing of the Spirit
It reminds the spirit of its home
And gives it the incentive
To come back home.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
I think I definitely lost something
A better me
I hold a promise locked somewhere in my soul
But I’ve forgotten what it is
I know not how to unlock it
It is gone
Gone home.
Imagine
You are walking and
Walking and walking and walking
And
Walking and walking
And suddenly you make out something
In the distance –
But it is silent all around you
No life, no flowers, no birds
Only a dusty sun…
When you get to the object
You find that it is a tombstone
A silent grave undustied
In the middle of the desert
And your name is written on it
There
Waiting for you
In the middle of nowhere –
What do you do?
Thirsty soul
Hungry for love
Dying for the water of life
You stand for a long time
And stare down at your
Resting place.
But when you looked up
You saw
Gleaming above a distant hill
The green back of a yellow sun
Not dusty
Not lost…
What do you do?
Lay down in your grave
And die?
Or leave your name behind
And continue to walk
You talk to yourself
I hear you I hear you
Talking to yourself
Like a mad woman…
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Carry me
Marry me
Madness pain
Sadness moon
Tidal silence be violent
On me
I have seen it all
Love a lie
Hatred a voiceless bond
Treachery a given
Weakness our one true calling
I have seen enough.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
The past became a picture
Picture imperfect
Stop looking at it
Walk away…
The answers lie ahead, not behind
Happiness comes forward, not back
You walk into freedom when you turn
Around and walk away
Stop looking at it
It does not exist anymore…
Walk away.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Those days were magic
I was a boy but already a man
You were a woman but still a girl
We understood each other.
No matter how much they dig into our past
They’ll never really understand it today
You cannot understand a fairytale
With your intellect.
You have to be a child at heart
To understand magical love…
There is a grove
therein a cove
therein a light
therein a dove
therein a mystery.
Memory becomes an elixir.
Our hearts were broken
By the logic of separation
Perfection had to be
Enshrined
For future reference.
The sanctuary of blueprint
Guard it, a secret. A desecrated deity
Cannot be appeased by sacrifice.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
There is comfort in pain
Like these tears that spill my eyes
Mine heart shallt drink
When I am alone
They all left me, one bye one
But I shall not break
Like the palm tree, bent under
My laugh will be straight again
A lane travels through the woods alone
Asking for no company
Neither loving nor hating those that
Walk on him and leave him behind.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Through this last stretch
Of lonely days
This last patch of watered fields
Although the mountains be now in sight
Need I some company
To make easier the journeying
And ease a bit my lonesome sorrow
That I by pain be not too distracted
From that alertness
That be my sworded shield…
So keep me company
Dear Muse
From here to Kingdom Come.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
What has been the point of all that toil?
City’s prisoner, corporate spoil
A long line of sleeping, not being alive
Continuous weeping
Waiting for the day I’ll be reaping
That, after which I strive.
My heart has been leaping, trying to see the sun
Beeping, calling for the sun
Until my heart was full to the point of bursting
Full of longing
Blossoming of a full sense of belonging
Deep has been my thirsting –
This holiday, like a holy stay, in Gras- and Windermere
What have you done to me? Suddenly so clear
The poet in me again, ready to go his way
To be confronted
By all the effects of a life he’s always wanted
Work is as play.
There is no alternative to being who you should be
No wealth, comfort, security will make you happy truly
Nothing can compensate a spirit for a wasted life
A deep sense of guilt
At death, crumbling, the empty life that was built
Has not soothed the inner strife.
Boldly go your way, seek no reward, Bravery
Must be your natural part, unaffected, unwavering –
No poet ever wrote for money who served Inspiration
The path is the goal
The burning of the Spirit Flame deep within the Soul
Unpoisoned by Ovation.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
She stands by the roadside
Smoking her thoughts away
Thoughts she tried
Could not find the words to say
Arise dejectedly, smoke and ashes
The green light flashes.
One last drag, last sigh
Last attempt to inwardly see the way
Shoulders sag, the look in her eye
When she turns briefly her head our way
Before stepping off across the road
Is itself a long and winding road.
A Cumbrian mountain-walk
Winding past trees and waterfalls
Feet heavied, it’s your heart bears the bulk
Of any stray Sorrow that calls
Many strange paths will cross your feet
Follow not every path you meet…
A short smile crosses her face
Our eyes meet, a moment of connection
A smile at once everything unitable in one place
Joy, sorrow, interest, disaffection
The smile’s source is its end
Just made and lost a friend.
Deep, the heart of every wanderer
Your path is the outgrowth of your heart
Gently touch, gently leave each sojourner
Take solely what the moment did impart
There’ll be enough in it to sorrow or sing
Poetry lurks in everything.
A moment in time, no content, no words
A mighty happening just played itself out
She crosses the road, I turn off at the boards
Never again will our paths cross, no doubt –
My woman walking beside me the whole time
Did she sense at all this passing rhyme?
The small, silent things that come and go
Without our really paying attention
The rock-solid things our hearts know
Even when we pay no attention –
The inner bond that withstands passing things
Takes note of the closing of little rings.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Fluttering somewhere, unseen
Fluttering softly, fluttering quick,
Fluttering, fluttering, an invisible being
Floats over quietly with a candlestick
And a flaming crown around a little wick,
Slightly seen, partly unseen…
They float, candle, being, and candleflame
Over the heads of a thousand men and more…
And alight gently upon a budding dame
Who, touched by an angel, bears a look never seen before
And poets and musicians and men
Draw from her look inspiration again
And again.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 