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PURELY, IT IS A MATTER OF LOVE

~ Che ~ Leave a comment

The dance of the woman in the market
Unloosed poetry
Here it goes, there she flows
Away…

Again I was baffled
Again I was moved
And asked myself one another time:
How many rivers
Meander within one woman?

The things that men desire in women
Are nothing compared to the things
Which women only know in their silent, sleeping heart
That they can give…

And, purely, it was something
That was in paradise on the day
That you and I were born
Children of the rose
Children of love.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

WARM

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There is something about Christmas
Even in places where it is cold, it is warm
Those without electricity bring light to each other
Drought and famine cannot destroy the bread of life
War will not make us forget that we are one human family
And the rich will not be happier than the poor –
There is a light that brought warmth upon this earth
If the cold of loneliness grips your heart this year
May Christmas touch you and make you warm.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

I wrote this poem as part of an interview published in Sabine’s Lifestyle-Kolumne. The body of the interview is however in german, but it can be read here.
*Aka Teraka was my pseudonym.

THE INVISIBLE PEDDLER OF HEARTS

~ Che ~ 11 Comments

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“WHO STOLE your heart, dear?” a woman said to another
“I don’t know,” replied the disheartened woman, “I just don’t know…
One minute I had it, the next it was gone;
And who the thief was, I simply do not know – “

Finally I had compassion on her
And, making myself visible, confessed to her:
“I stole your heart, dear – “
“You? But who are you?”
“I am the invisible peddler of human hearts.”
“I want my heart back!”
“That’s not possible, dear,
I’ve already sold it to another woman
At a very high price
And made a huge profit for myself,
Especially when one considers the fact that
It wasn’t at all hard to steal it from you.”
“What! What! What!… you you…
And you exchanged my heart for just money?!”
“No, it wasn’t just for money at all, really…
The other woman was suffering terribly.
You see, her heart had been broken
And it refused to heal…
She needed another, and quick,
So she appealed to me in her heart,
Me, the invisible peddler of human hearts.”

The disheartened woman listened in shock and amazement,
Then asked:
“And how much did this other woman pay for my heart?”
“She paid with all her carefreeness
And so, now, though she has a heart
And though her pain is gone
Yet she has no real joy as well anymore –“
“Terrible! You monster! And then me! What about me!?
I need a heart too!
You can’t just steal and sell hearts that way!”
“You should have guarded your heart better, my dear.”
“I want to have a heart again,
For there is in me a creeping coldness now
Which I fear will eat away all my remaining warmth.”
“I can get you a new heart,
But it will cost you a lot – “
“I don’t want a new heart, I want
My old one back.”
“That will cost you much more,
Indeed almost everything you have,
Because the woman who has it now
Has placed it tightly under lock and key –
She has barred it up very securely indeed
Because she does not want it broken, or even
Scratched, in any way damaged, like her first one was.
Hearts are precious, and yours is especially beautiful, you know.”

The disheartened woman said:
“I don’t care what it costs me,
Just get me back my heart – “
“Okay, “ I replied, for she was in earnest.

At nightfall I returned to her with her heart – unscathed –
She reached for it –
“Oh no,” I said… “first you must
Marry me – “
“Marry you?! You thief?! Never!”
“Don’t be so heartless, dear maiden, please.”
“Don’t crack jokes about the aching gap in me – just give me
Back my heart, for I am not heartless…”
“Marry me.”
“I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“Because I do not love you.”
“How can you speak of love when you have no heart?”
“My heart is in your heart, please do not drop it.
I ache. There is pain in me, coldness and loneliness –
I need my heart back.”
“How can you speak of loneliness when you have no heart
with which to feel it?”
“My heart is always my heart,
Whether it be in your hands or
In another woman’s possession –
It is my heart
And when it hurts I hurt –
Please give me back my heart;
Our separation makes us lonely.”
“Dear woman,
Heartless though you are,
Yet are you precious too and clear –
Perhaps not all heartless people are evil,
Just disheartened…
But won’t you now share your heart
With the other woman – ?
Hers is sorely broken, it bleeds day and night
And her agony knows no end –
Won’t you help her? Give her a little of your heart?”
“Who or what could have so badly damaged a heart, I wonder…?”
“It was a lover that did it long ago,
One who loved her too much at the start
And too little at the end –
This confused and frightened her…
And she lost her balance, sought it desperately and briefly,
Found it not, and tripped over…
Her heart slipped out and fell –
Her heart is broken.”
“Then let us share mine, she and I,
At least until hers heals again – “
“Then I shall take you to her
and you shall, out of the fullness of your heart,
Comfort and strengthen her and teach her how to
Dance again.”
“So, you shall give me back my heart then… – ?”
“Aye, verily,
Even as I took it from you, whilst you were not looking,
So have I already given it back to you, even now, whilst we were talking
And you were again not looking……
Guard it, guard it better, dear, please, it’s a good heart;
And now come with me:
Let us go to the woman with the broken heart
So that you may fulfill your own part
Of the bargain –
If you will not marry me
Then you must heal a broken heart
Like you want to,
And you will thereby learn many lessons too,
And reap, too, a heartful of joy.”
“… my heart feels so different in me now… why?”
“Very simple, my dear. It has tasted love, loss and pain,
Has learned what it is, to give
And to need
And to be needed.”

And together we set off for the Broken Heart
And, just as she had promised to do,
She taught and comforted her and helped her
To dance again even with her heart…

And, job completed here, I made myself invisible again
And travelled on once more, another one in my heart,
Another heart in my destiny,
And I just as ignorant as before.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

NEIGHBOURS

~ Che ~ 4 Comments

Do you hear that wailing?
Somebody is dead next door
Someone is left behind and weeping
Behind heaven’s closed door
Another earthlife is ended forevermore

Quietly I watch the lights of the siren
As they grow brighter in the distance
Soon they cover up my neighbour’s silent scream
Then all grows quiet for one instance
Death welcomes every circumstance

I know that couple next door
They never failed to say hello
Now one of them I will hear nevermore
But whenever I see the other’s sorrow
I will smile and say, gently, hello.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

SHARED SILENCE, SHARED DISTANCE

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Your silence deafens music
The songs don’t move me anymore
But to tears

Your absence ‘tis so loud
Woke me up with a jolt last night
And your emptiness shivered

And I recalled your poems by name
The rain, cheeky, in your hair
The palm wine melody line of dancing pain

It is our way
To do the things that cause us pain
And then share the pain with each other.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

BREATHE AGAIN

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Wait for the knocking of the carpenter
For it won’t be long
Lovingly building that cradle, soft of hay
It will be rocked by a virgin’s song
But a prouder man, a truer man
Will watch over the smile of a radiant star
– Then, lonely earth spirit, light up your heart
For Christmas is no longer far.

And if you think deeper, you will realise
He did not come to die, but to open up our eyes
To Life, to love, to a new reason to strive.
Breathe again, wilted human flowers – and rise…

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

GENTLE

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Take in little sips
My waterfall
My aching brown lips
Gently call

Did softly my love
Water your flower?
Then a Little is enough
… A gentle shower

So, now, slow it down
Time stands still
And the heights we crown
Will be gentler still

Come, cup your Hands –
The night rain
Fills and understands
Our gentlest pain

And when I flow away
Say to our offsprings
In your wild blood play
Love’s gentle wings.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

INNER SHARING

~ Che ~ 9 Comments

Every friend
Takes a piece of you
But not all
Will give it back

From friendship to friendship
You lose more of you
And have to reinvent yourself
In the end

This is when
Your friends will tell you
That you have changed
And they don’t know you anymore

Only those
Who gave back what they took
Will understand you now
Because they were the soil

That yielded you.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

SPACE

~ Che ~ 9 Comments

Distance
Brought me closer to you than
Romance
Ever did or ever could

Distance
Is more intimate than nearness
Substance
Needs space to come together

Distance
Is at the heart of our closeness
Long live the resistance
That makes the current of love flow.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.

IN OUR DESERT

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amazon cover copy there is always something more 2015
BIGOTRY CONTINUES to exist upon the face of the earth, but not within its heart. And just as skin-characteristics are skin-deep, so is bigotry only surface-deep. I’m talking about the face of the earth.

But anyone who nurtures bigotry within the heart will continue to nourish it for a long time yet to come. It will not die easily. Is there hope for the flower?

Should I revert to the tales of the heart? Should I revert to the inner sequence? Should I revert to yesterday’s tenderness? The first woman? The last kiss?

Or should I continue into the desert? Should I seek a new oasis and wander after the unknown treasures of the sand? But who can open up the secrets of the sand? A flower?

The first strike was a miss. The first step was the first fall. The first sight was blinded by a pitch-fork. But there will be a second. The second is the other side of the coin.

I want to write a poem. I want to penetrate deep into the heart of the broken home, there where the spirit in us resides. We are all to one another strangers. Bridges we build, communal words we use, eyes we touch when we will, hands we give, yet remain unto one another strangers. The shared blood was poisoned aye ere we were born. The shared earth was divided already long ago and divided we stand and stare at one another across the border, the boundaries of our little egos and remain each alone. But each is but alone. Little egos. Little worlds. Little by little, if watered, like flowers, perhaps, we grow.

The secrets of the sand, approaching, covering up our footsteps. Hey, I wrote this poem before, when I was young. But if I was young then, what am I now, older or younger? For the first poem was the greater and the latter flow gropes for reconnection with the source that thundered out of the young heart of the finalised decision. Seen once. Pondered once. Grasped once. Perceived once. Decided once. At the start of the journey. And everything else is just the hanging on, the wondering, the new search. We have found but have not yet reached the Goal. We are still on the path. Believing in the flower.

This is what I would like to give to you, a flower in the desert. Do not perhaps think that the Desert is more powerful than the flower. Nay. There you would err. But treasure and protect the flower. Water it anywhere you see it. For the flower alone, of all the forces in the universe, can subdue the Desert.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

Taken from my collection of thoughts and stories: “There Is Always Something More.”