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.
The bullet leapt
Wept the barrel with
Sorrow’s silent shriek protesting
The bullet’s hunger
Feeding the
Blood bank’s Belly, saving
Not life, but your account
Of – what? – your life?
Countless Cowries
Bagged in bloated
Human hide
Yet not enough to buy back
Recompense.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Yes I’m a thief
I steal your heart
And you love it
And everytime I return it to you
You weep bitterly
And beg me to rob you again.
Beg harder.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 