There is evil in the air
It chokes your breath in unexpected places
A playground, full of hard adult eyes
Watching, and avoiding, each other
While playing children loudly try
To shout the intruders merrily out –
One by one each parent
Picks up its child and hurries home
Away from this place
And no-one can say really why
The world became like this
Or when. It’s the future, and we’re there.
– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.
Elementary particles
You and I
And our every thought of kindness
Wrapped up in temporary blindness
The thought will go
But the kindness in its heart will remain timeless.
Thousands of years later
Geologists can tell you where
A river once flowed.
Such is the parable of human hearts
And the tracks of our tears
And the marks we leave in each others’ lives.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
She was a weightlifter
They found it unseemly
But she was a shape-shifter
Their disdain was a lighter burden to bear
Than her fate.
Slum lady. Carried mud and bricks
Bore stones and sticks
Firewood, rusted water in weeping baskets
The stretch marks of impatient thirsty men
Bunched up her muscles.
Owned by all, never owned a thing
The madams’ slaps, the masters’ secrets
Nothing was too heavy a load to carry
To snatch, to clean, to jerk off –
Each jerk. Very ordinary.
Today, when she steps out unto the mat
Under the lights, there you see
Sunset in one eye, sunrise in the other –
It’s not heavy weights she’s lifting
She’s carrying hope.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
They shrink away instinctively
Disgustedly
From the poor
As though poverty were a disease
But even faster they
Avert their thought-sprinkled eyes
Nobody wants to see Shame
The shame mirrored within
Who is ashamed of whom?
Of what?
The rich is ashamed for being rich
The poor is ashamed for being poor
They both are ashamed of being
In the company of each other
One hopes the tides will turn
One fears the tides will turn.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
That Mountain yes
It is high, hard, rugged, dogged
And casts a long shadow
It will not stop you
From arriving the other side
Of your pride, when love touches you –
You say it, I’m sorry
It hurts but not for long
Pain heals. I’m sorry…
Those tears are more powerful
Than a waterfall, every barrier will break
In their wake, they will wash the air
Clean, like nature’s storm –
I’m sorry is a power that is a winner.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
The freedom you give yourselves
Is the freedom you’ll share
If you say I won’t be free
You’re bound to binding me
If you say you’ll own it all
You’ll have to fight us off
Because I want a piece of peace
A pint of prosperity
A joint of hope and happiness
A chunk of a chance at success
A healthy dose of social security
And a shot of education –
Give us our share!
Cheers!
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Success is attractive. Only success.
Yet she found you attractive
For you alone were successful
At conquering her hardened heart
There are many walking wounds on earth
Many crusted souls aching for life
Think not that you are nothing
Simply because you never made it to that school
That job, that position, that wealth, that status…
It is also success to heal a human heart.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
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.
Wait, morning wind
Wait for my awakening
For I bring a sun
Today shall be another day
Of the same old depressing news
Of hatred, xenophobia, corruption and wars
If I didn’t have this sunlight
Rising daily in my soul
I would think the world were ending
Now my sun is risen
Now rise too, my morning wind
For the old world is ending.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Silence will roll into silence
When your heart, for miles,
Lonely, clothed in the essence
Of sorrow shed in every sense
But one…,
Arises before your countenance
And, despite sorrow, smiles –
Fresh Food for your sustenance,
Fresh impetus for the long distance
You run…
Do you hear the rolling silence?
If you listen and listen hard
To Silence, the deeper bard;
Just listen, listen in hard…
Do you hear the rolling silence?
Silence will roll into silence
When the pain in you
Has crossed the line into convalescence
And the Horizon’s in view.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 