Knives in my back They help me stand upright You’ve got my back Covered with purpose and bite Back-stabbing attacks Strengthen my will to fight What in foresight a man lacks He makes up for with hindsight. The opened eyes at the back of your head Are the lessons learned from the life you’ve led The wars in which you bravely bled And the wars from which you falsely fled Treachery in you and others is rife But you learn to fight better looking ahead Your rear-facing eyes bring back to life All the things you thought were dead. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
fight
My Third Passion
Push yourself
That’s the best self-help
There is pleasure in release
Measure the mark and strike
It makes the blood run out disease
Warms the muscles
For the next days’ hustles
My thug passion is my third passion Working out my banger issues in the gym Controlled anger defuse
Rough dancing in my tough mansion
My thugz mansion
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
(Aka Teraka)
FEAR NOT THE IDES OF MARCH
Fear not the Ides of March
Go boldly your path to the end
What’s unclear today, another Plutarch
Will explain one day again
Fear not the Ides of March
Fear is the foe of your nature
Your feet it’ll drag, tongue it’ll patch –
Heed not every Seer or Preacher
Fear not the Ides of March
Though your friends turn into traitors
Or family conspirators, sly and arch,
Join and jubilate with your tribulators
Fear not the Ides of March
Death cannot upturn your victory
Tough as larch and strong as starch
Shall eternally inspire your Story.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
15.03.2019
AN EARLY RECOGNITION ON RESISTANCE
When I was a little boy – 6 or 7 – I watched a film on the Holocaust, in the sitting room with my parents. One question nagged at me then: why did they follow so quietly and obediently to their own deaths? Why did they not resist?
That question has since then detached itself from that film and that story and has followed me everywhere in life to this day, in many forms and contexts. In truth it was not a question – it was a Resolution.
Always resist.
Never give up, unjustly, what belongs to you, and is valuable to you, without a fight. It’s either you win, or you lose with pride.
All that’s left is for you to decide what your valuable possessions are.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
DON’T
There is a slitherer
Snaking without fear
For he owns your urges
Like thirst owns the night
Like Guilt owns sight
Like frustrations delight owning
Like we argued about seeking distance
And about seeking closeness
And said I don’t fucking care
Just so we would not say
I love you, you are mine
Don’t sleep with him, don’t sleep with her, Baby.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
DIGNITY
He threw all the standard colourful
Discriminatory bigot remarks and innuendo
At me, then stepped back with a smirk
And waited to see it shame and hurt me
I knew this one had run out of arguments
And was fishing for the killer-blow
So I let it pass by without contact or impact
And leaned back and watched it confuse and hurt him
Some lines of attack grow old and stale
But some people just don’t get it
I speak back when speaking back will hurt you
And I ignore it when ignoring it will hurt you
Once upon a time, a man was humiliated
With fear and the theft of his dignity
But before he died, he whispered to me – You
Are my victory. Let my history be a lesson to you
Never go down without a fight. Never beg
For mercy when the killer points his gun
If they’re fair to you, be fair to them
But if they hurt you unprovoked – always always always
Somewhere
Someday
Somehow
Hurt them back.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
SEALING UP
Silent things, unnamed
Unnameable, nameless
Lie between us like yesterday
Why does yesterday
Continue always to exist?
Why doesn’t it just go away forever?
Why must we understand yesterday
In order to understand today?
Why do we even bother to seek for
Understanding amongst our human selves?
Mystery
The very mystery itself, no answer
Round and round. I can’t bear it
When we fight, dear.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
From my collection of Poems: WRITING IS THE HAPPINESS OF SORROW.
TRUMPET
Seven seals locked Pandora’s box
But some clever mind surely
Was on hand to break me free
Now he’s running from me
I want you, baby. It’s redemption time
Outrun dawn? It’s time has come
Strip down and face the reggae trumpet
Natty dread rise again, too much hypocrisy
Sweet is the weight that falls off your shoulders
When you stop fearing to speak your mind.
– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 