Ich weine wie Mangos
Süße reife feste Tränenklumpen
Fett mit feuchtem Fleisch, mit hartem Kern
Mein klebriger Schrei beschmiert
Dich mit goldener Scham wenn ich
Über dich herfalle.
Mich genießen
Ohne dich zu beschmutzen
Geht nicht – empfangen befleckt.
Drum halte fern Sensibles, Wertvolles
Und bring zu mir nur befreites Dich
Und saubere nackte dürstende Hände.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
She told me the tongue
Is the instrument of the heart
Learn to use it well, for song
And touch, to part and to impart
I tell you this, she said
Because you make my tongue restless
Then I knew what she wanted
A drink of tenderness
Blue was that night
And underneath the mango tree
Me warm me hands in her fireside
She sang of honey
Yet, though she’s melting me, watching me
Still my admiration is voiceless, deadpan
Words of flattery would be
A waste of woman.
– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.
***
Last night something strange
Cracked a door open on the wall
Of my memory, without even knockin’ twice
It came out of nowhere, suddenly.
A song, I was 17, house party
Whose house? I don’t remember any more
There she was, in the dark
Dancing with me, like I was the night wind
She a young tree, swaying, leaves shuddering slowly
Two shadows in a room full of shadows
House of teenagers about to wake up
From youth with only memories faded of yesterday
How long did this song quietly travel
Through time, to waylay me in that lookback moment last night
And take me back to that other night so many years ago?
Every memory I think I’ve forgotten
Is stored in some song somewhere, seeking me again
So don’t ask me why I’m dancing oldskool
Time is a candyman, stuck to your melting heart
Memory memory will knock your boots back
Never ever ever gonna let you go
Where is she now? My young mango.
She is a part of this song now
And last night I saw her, danced with her, again.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerijeem>
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 