BOTTOMLESS WELL

Everyday she printed dust on feet
Earlier than sunrise
She was a surprise
To every sleeping wanderer she will meet

On her way to the well, wishing well,
An empty bucket on her head
One more in each hand that bled
On her way to hell

The well, the well is dry
It is dry, barren, unresponsive
The less you get, the more you give
The desert will never cry

Every evening she dusts her way home
Not a drop of water
To herself she will mutter
Soliloquy on when the rain will come.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.

P.O.V.ERTY

Sand for breakfast
Tasted no better than shit
I don’t beg for alms anymore
I just snatch it

My mother’s tears
Son I did not bring you up to be a thief
Mom you didn’t raise me to suffer in poverty, did you?
I just want some relief.

Sometimes they look out of their cars
Our eyes meet
I wonder if they ever wonder
If I know the taste of meat.

If I were in their shoes
Would I mean nothing to me
If driving by I saw me chained by poverty
In a system that benefits only me.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.

Joy is my elixir
Sorrow is my muse
When one is not there
The other I use

The mountain-top of poverty
Will give you a clear view
Into the character of humanity
And make a sage of you

The dark depths of wealth
Will expose you to propensity
To indulge in all things that tempt
And to understand vanity

You will see needy nations
Full of natural born resources
Of lazy corrupted wasted generations
Raining on each other backward curses

You will see greedy nations
With the mastery of bright inventions
Choose instead to perfect division
And to invent and sell deadly weapons

You will see great minds
Of science, religion and philosophy
Brainwashing weaker minds
Into believing everyone different is their enemy

You will feel the cold power of politics
In high and low places
And learn to respect the simplest tricks
For they win the most complex races

You will despair and turn to the dark side
And hear its mocking laughter
You will look for the light far and wide
And severity will be its answer

Illness will teach you
That your body is not all of you
There is eternal life inside of you
It is the real you

And you will learn from disgrace
How fickle are our human ways
When you’re up they’re quick to praise
And quick to damn you in your fallen days

Wonder above wonder
The flight of technology
Cannot take you any further
Than truth, hope and simplicity

Trust is still a riddle
Treachery a talking drum
Death still waits in the middle
Of the life you can’t escape from

Only love, only love will understand
And bring you strength and succour
Even as it holds in its tender hand
A little joy, a little sorrow

The power to open our eyes
To the little acts of kindness
That tower above parochial ties
And cure the heart of its blindness

To civilise joy with purpose
And pacify pain with message
For just as poetry elevates prose
Goodness preserves youth in age

Some bend the word
To achieve selfish aims
Diplomacy becomes their sword
So who are we to blame?

Joy is my elixir
Sorrow is my muse
When one is not there
The other I use.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.