A quiet life You come and you go And barely anyone noticed You or your halo. This distant planet The Earth she’s called You visited and then were Quietly recalled. Some people don’t talk much You don’t even know they’re there But their hearts are deep And full of care. But their hearts are deep And full of care Treasure the quiet ones While they’re still here. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
quietness
FOREST WALK
A stroll through the curious trees Respectfully quiet to put you at ease What you hear is the noonday breeze Tell us your thoughts, human, if you please. But you hear neither the watching trees Nor the quietly questioning noonday breeze All you know - correct me, if you please - Is that in your heart you simply feel at ease. Che Chidi Chukwumerije Poems from the inner river
CONSTANT CRY
He lived with us very briefly
When I was still a child
My father’s elder brother
When we prayed before our meals
And made the sign of the cross
He teased us, Protestants, about having gone Catholic
When he shaved in the morning
He explained to us the mysterious science
Of shaving stick, cream and blade
Other than that he didn’t talk much
A quiet quiet quiet man
Hurt no-one, thoughtfully kept to himself
Very different from the others
Never preached, never argued, never moralised
Never scolded, just silently observed
Three decades have passed
Rarely our paths ever crossed again
A short Hello each time, nothing more
I’m still trying to understand
The pain I’ve felt all morning today
Since I heard of Uncle Joe’s death
It doesn’t make sense
Someone I hardly knew
Just a few childhood memories
Just a few memories
That remind me of a time
Rich in memories and childlike insight
And a few memories
Of a quiet adult who never found a voice
In a culture of big egos, loud voices and aggression
His silence was louder, calmer, more lasting
So deep that only his death
Would open the deep wound of memory in my heart
His middle name was Ahamefula
Meaning “May my name not get lost” –
No, dear Uncle, it will not.
In loving memory of
Joseph Ahamefula Chukwumerije
1935 – 2013
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
FREED
Hardly a night goes by
Hardly a breath flows, an evening
Melts
Without this thought
You brighten my life
Curly windows
When the crowds are many
I am alone
I wanted to be a nightingale
To be a flower
I wanted to be a star
The evening wind blows
I am human. Let it be…
Sometimes again
Freed from the city’s shackles
Hackles, hard tackles
I am green, bright yellow, blue as sky
Glad am I.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
THE MOON IS IT
I cherish the sight
I cherish the night
Moon-crowned… moon-found
The Poetry is so profound
That strikes the Deep
Out of its Sleep
When the fortnight is twice over turned
And the Full-Moon has returned.
I hear the lone wolf again
From the stillness of the deep and the pain
Howling from out of my Heart…
Howling from out of my Heart…
The moon…
The moon…
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
ODE TO QUIETNESS
Good morning, Quietness,
I remember how with surprise
I felt your absence last night.
And did I thirst for you? First I thrashed about wildly,
Clutching at every suggestion of you,
Then, exhausted, like a leopard I crouched, still,
And lay in wait for you – awake, listening,
Until the morning came… My life rolled before my inner eyes,
Awakening you from the depths of my heart –
Good morning, Quietness, as I fall asleep at last.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
SUN
Today I looked again
Through the rain and saw
The sun, but the sun wept
And it was the rain
Again
So I let the sun wet me
And every love that met me
Will never again forget me
The source of your flowing pain
Your sun, your happiness
And your rain.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
QUIETNESS NAY SILENCE
Quietness nay silence
Like a virginal victim of violence
Was broken by a passing train in the night
Lonely and out of sight.
I won’t go near the window
Why reopen sorrow?
Let it pass by like a train in the distance
Heralding a second chance.
Night breathes, asleep
Silence sinks into ethereal deep
None shall stir until the dawn doth break
Only I – why am I still awake?
If I were clairvoyant, I would swear
There is somebody with me here
In that quiet hour when night is day
Spirits come out to play.
– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 