I see dead people They don’t know they’re dead Their physical body is still living And has not yet been shed They walk and they talk, They laugh, weep and they smile They occupy all walks of life And don’t always seem vile Their mind silences their heart Their intellect dulls their intuition It seems insignificant But it’s at the root of the human condition Listen to your inner voice Don’t leave everything to your head Or you’ll be walking with the living And not realise you’re dead. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
LIVING
THE GREATER DEATH
Literature murders poetry
Fine Arts murders art
Education murders the spirit
The intellect stands victorious over the intuition
The dead over the living
The darkness over the light
Human is dead for now
Tomorrow human will die the greater death.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
WALKING THE TALK
I’m alive
When I was dead
The words flowed
Knocking knocking in the coffin
Now I’m alive
They hold their peace
I don’t write my fantasies anymore
I live them now
When I start writing again
Pity me. Mourn, mourn for me.
– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE
SENSE OF TASTE
There is no easy way
To walk through every valley
Without tasting any fruit
Without tasting any fruit
Propensity plays a gentle lute
Curiousity owns a magic flute
Temptation gnaws at your root
Intuition is loud, intuition is mute.
Who can know without taking a bite?
Who can grow without experiencing the night?
Some nights will yield the day
Some nights will kill the day
When does a want become a need?
When does a hunger morph into greed?
Is a sin a fruit or a seed?
A thought is sometimes worse than a deed.
There is a green hill far away
Your feet are confused: to go or to stay?
Who can walk through the valley of the root
Without tasting any fruit?
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 