WRITING IS THE HAPPINESS OF SORROW

Writing is the happiness
Of sorrow

The immortal spirit
Of mortality

The voice that needs
No mouth

The painting whose canvas is
The reader’s mind.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije

———-

In 2013 I gave myself the luxury of publishing two books of poems on my birthday – today 6th April.
One is titled “WRITING IS THE HAPPINESS OF SORROW“, the idea for which came with the poem above which I wrote some time ago.
The other is “THE BEAUTIFUL ONES HAVE BEEN BORN” which is specific to my continent Africa.

In 2015 I reprinted them.

HATRED AND HOPE

Branded roses
Blood is your dance floor
Beast is the yeast of your flour
Your moist garden is the handle of my door
And your soup is dour.

I saw a stranger, dressed in black,
Quietly step back from your door –
I saw you, a black bird in grey skies
Flapping, rising
Hatred flaming in your chest like
A torn rose.

Yet I kissed you, don’t
Ask me why – your lips parted and I tasted
Hope on your tongue
Like a squirrel hiding in the bush.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

THE END MUST BE STRONG

The end must be strong
Or it will not be satisfied with itself
Shall return again
And again
Demanding to be ended…

The end that drags out must be allowed to drag out
That way we shall never forget
It is imprinted, chiselled, branded prime-deeply
Into heart and mind
Unforgettable, memorable, forever recognisable
Never to be dared again.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

A LITTLE WEIRD

You have to be a little weird
To be normal
A little fat to be healthy
A little perverted to love fully
A little poor to be rich
And a little me
To be you.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

A THOUSAND ETERNITIES

I see the sun rising
The horizon is no longer far
We have met each other halfway
The horizon is now the road.

The smell of your breast
Is a miracle
The touch of your breath
Is a poem

That ceases never to enchant
The undulating sands beneath which
My desert is overpowered
By your thousand flowers…

I am born anew
When you gently wake me up
In the night
Just to look into my eyes…

Heaven.

Heaven be your name
And though memoryless we wander
Far away in this blue grass under
The heavens,

Yet you pull me up where I see you
Calling me, reminding me, admonishing me
With your eyes in the middle
Of the night.

Heaven be our home
A thousand eternities from now
Far Beyond yonder horizon
We see.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

THE WORLD IS ENOUGH

I knew it
It was too new
Not to be true too –
The questions unreplied were too few too
Happiness swallowed all the cares
Sorrow wears
Discord tears
Happiness shares and it goes around
The world is enough
Big enough, small enough, world enough
Sure.
Manure is pure. Sure.
Even a decadent mind
Even that dark heart
Can laugh out loud
Out loud –
Manure is pure.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

HAPPINESS, HONESTY AND IMPERFECTION

They said, you’re silent, and when you speak, you don’t speak of the things we know you know, the things you once spoke about. You don’t preach, you don’t teach, you don’t educate, elucidate or inform.

I said I have seen it all and it’s all an illusion. Never follow high-sounding words; they always hide a lie somewhere. All I want is just to be happy.

And I said, keep searching and searching until you find the hypocrite within you; and when you have looked each other in the eye, you will learn to recognize him or her also in the people, the words and the works around you. It’s very easy to be deep and profound. It’s much more difficult to be honestly imperfect.

If you want to be happy, you can’t skip the first step. It is also the last step: honest imperfection. Leave the wise words to the teachers. You, just be happy. That’s the only thing left that I still honestly care about. The rest is just a waste of precious time at best, deception of self and others at worst.

A funny thing happened: this morning I heard a saxophone playing and it gave me more than all the wise moving words in this world ever could or did. It sang the melody of all my sins, all my hopes, all my regrets, all my joys, all the humanity within me; and in the end I knew, it is true: the inner voice is the real you.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

TURN AROUND

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.

THOUGHTS OF FREEDOM

Bottling up the thoughts
Will not get rid of them
Yet speaking them all too soon
Is folly…

In the depth of silence
Assuming silence to be a lake
There is a cave
Wherein it glows like
Happiness

Bury your thoughts quietly within this
Cave of silent happiness

And no matter how rough a storm it be
That rocks the lake…
When all is calm again
Your thoughts
Will emerge matured and multiplied
And urge you
Urge you to set them free…

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

UNDERNEATH

When sheep undress
They become wolves
When wolves undress
They become sheep

Unclothing less
Reveals more
Of why we laugh
When we weep.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.