inspiration

TENDER SPOTS

~ Che ~ 3 Comments

There is in me a very soft spot for naked tables and chairs, pens and empty sheets of paper, and a feeling that if I do not write the poem write now, it will never come again. It is a very special soft spot and very dear to me, sees me through lonely nights and empty restless days and times of unfocused focus and focused unfocus and is much better than many other a pleasure.

The heart is inside, the voice outside, and a strong voice without a heart is as baseless as the pointlessness of a voiceless heart, burning and knowing and mute. I have a very soft spot in me for that quick tender urge that would have me run again, a pen upon waiting sheets, a snow-lion stalking buried treasures, a singer learning and singing new songs, simultaneously.

Water is the king and when your heart runs like water, poetry becomes an uncheckable force – everywhere you hear it… everywhere you hear it. It follows you, it enters you, it captures you until you have mastered yourself in it, then it sets you free to roam again. Yes, this is my jungle.

I have in me a so soft spot for that glowing star, yonder flame that has decided to call me Home. Yes, Song, let it ring, and with my life I will follow, poet and musician and man. There was a beginning but, I vow, there shall be no end to eternal tenderness inside you and me.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

ONLY US

~ Che ~ 12 Comments

It is not a joke;
But everyone is laughing
As though it were…

Early in the morning
I can hear voices whispering
Before dawn…
But when I peered out through the window
I saw nothing
Yet heard something
Which sounded like whispering voices
Talking to me
Telling me what to write

And I write without complaint
Even though the pain is sometimes astronomical –
Yet I write.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

EMPTY AGAIN

~ Che ~ 7 Comments

In heaven
I saw birds
Even blackbirds

So I wrote
This poem
Which is just words

And when I was done
And looked up
It was an empty sky.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

BLOW ON

~ Che ~ 8 Comments

There is something
I want to write
– this has happened to me before –

That is:
It is the poet who wants to write it
While I, the pen,
Am yet in the dark

I only feel the heat of inspiration
The dark ink, flowing
The red blood, going
Somewhere
The wind, blowing…

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

INSPIRATIONS

~ Che ~ Leave a comment

The things that inspired me yesterday
Still inspire me today
And will still inspire me tomorrow –
And yet
My poems,
Though they be of one mind,
Will continue to change and to grow
Because Inspiration
Does not change,
But I,
The poet, do.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

DON’T SHOOT

~ Che ~ Leave a comment

When a gun shouts
It sounds like a whip on crack
So why are you laying that wound
On your brother,
Brother?

You have none other than
The last one you just buried
Those graves are not for the brave
Your brother’s life is all you have,
Brother.

Soldier soldier don’t shoot
Fingerfood for thought is trigger for the unhappy
A life in exchange for a shot
And you call that a fair deal?
Poor substitute.

But they say, look here
We don’t like all these heavy words.
Give us laughter, give us comfort, give us food
Give us pride, give us a shining ring
Or, if you can, give us hope.

Someone has to get up
Someone has to get up first.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.