THE SPLIT

I’m quiet tonight
Never mind that it’s morning
I’m still dreaming

I remember a friend
We had high hopes for his future
Yet he chose the Easy

Now I’m all alone
On the road we once chose together
Watching it grow longer

This pain I keep inside
Greater than death, worse than loss
Treachery’s dungeons.

If I doubted reincarnation
This life has taught me a bitter lesson
For I must come again

The work is unfinished
The cards will be reshuffled
I will come again.

Then I hear, so soft
The sounds of morning dawning
The past is over now.

Those words, those strange words
That baffle the minds of politics
Of culture and science

You can call me Fool
You can call me mad, and yet
You too will come again.

– che chidi chukwumerije.

DISCERNING

I fear
The daily commute
To the valley of the mute
The echoless cry of my silent flute
Digs a hole in my soul
Wringe me mad
I fear

Mockery sticks his head around the door
You no waving yo flag no mo?
Blackhawk down
My dreams, stranded shipwrecks
Scuttle each hurriedly into safety
Hiding they fearfully await the scorching passage
Of the locals’ raging raid –
Some will be caught, shot, mocked
Some will sacrifice themselves
That the finer ones may escape the drape
For tomorrow’s blossoming

Quiet now
Wait for the Sign.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

IMAGINATION

image

They were not decorations on our wall
We were shadows on theirs
Flickering like candle thoughts
Gathering, falling and dispersing
Like broods of clouds
When we stand across the divide
Looking at each other, it’s hard to tell
Who is real
And who is the figment of whose imagination.

Writer, did you write your book
Or did your book write you?
Artist, did you paint that look
In the eye of the portrait watching you
Or are you just a thought in its mind?
If you look, sometimes you will find
That the musician is the instrument
And the song is the conductor of his movement.

And when an architect erects a building
He is only doing so to house therein his restless feelings.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.