When they were living It was for them not the past; Now that we are living It is for us also not the past. It is always the present - And it always feels the same; For some it feels like the end, For others like the start, of the game. The future will one day look back And call our present their past - But their present too will hold them back With the same challenges of the past. It always demands bravery Without the benefit of hindsight; To act without knowing if posterity Will prove you wrong or right. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
past
TRANSIENCE
You cannot reproduce the past What is gone is gone The present was never built to last A moment later, it is done. Over and done with. All that’s left to reminisce on Will be legend and myth. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
AI CANNOT SATISFY
AI Cannot satisfy The longing for reality The thirst for humanity It can only replicate duplicate Reiterate concentrate elucidate Our past in all its profusion The sum of all our confusion Neatly packaged in a way That appeals to our Today But it will not give us anything new. The future is still the spirit’s purview. If we want the new then we must Do what we have in the past Always done to grow: Let go of the past. Raising the intuition above the intellect We much reach deep within our depths And pull the new out from ourselves Because there is a magic that flows from Above Into our Intuition, our secret treasure trove. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
BEFORE YOU
You always think you’re the first When you are young, How startling it is when you grow up To realise you were wrong. So many people before you Have these same heights traversed - Some recorded, many unrecorded, Their stories long dispersed. Tread the earth with humility, O modern day human; Stonehenge and Egypt’s pyramids Transcend our acumen. And when you are still young, Be thankful as you add new value, For you’re building on the foundation Of all that came before you. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
BEYOND A.I.
Now that A.I. has mirrored our past the past has become boring - We need a new humanity at last with basic new senses for exploring a future that in a different context is cast, less artificial, less vain, less deploring, more human, simple, more steadfast at peace-making, tired of warring, free from materialism’s comfort ballast, our inner mobility restoring. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
PRESENT BE
The present always becomes the distant past. When Martin Luther put up the 95 theses, that was for him in the present. For us today it is the distant past. When Judas betrayed Jesus, for him that was the present; for us today it is in the distant past. When the artisans at Igbo-Ukwu or in Nok made their bronzes, that was for them the present, the most modern moment they knew. They could have never guessed what the future would be. But for us today, their present is the distant distant past.
Even such is time.
Today will one day be the past, the distant past, and be forgotten. Another day will be the present. Everyday another day. Only the present matters. The present is the only thing that Really IS.
Live in the present, from day to day.
Move with the present, from day today.
BE the present, every day.
Be present in every moment.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
FOREVER IS A LAND OF GOODBYES
One of the most beautiful things
I have found
Is to be able to let go of the past
And move on –
But never forget the past.
I love every pain
Every joy
Every regret and remorse
Every parting and every loss
Every victory and every memory
For by the very act of going
They left something with me
That will live in me forever…
Forever is a land of goodbyes
And new beginnings.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
TOMORROW CAME YESTERDAY
Every new day is the future
you’ve been waiting for.
So, all those things you’ve made a vow
to do in the future,
do them now.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
ART IN ALL ITS FORMS
Art in all its forms
Is the thief of time
Stealing from the past
Sharing with the present
And the future
Like Robin Hood
For time is wealthy in memory
And, like Shylock, reluctant to give.
An evening song will reawaken your life’s morning
A painting will view like déjà vu from lives unremembered
And a poem will whisper your life’s story back to you.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
SHE WAS A WEIGHTLIFTER
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.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 