Because I hope I feel that I exist
Because I feel I love so I persist
Because I am thankful to think I think
That I am fortunate simply to be
Even though the being is only me
I could say spero ergo sum* and list
A lot of reasons why I hope despite
The feeling my life is lived at midnight
I hope I love I think and thoughts are free
Und (hofft die Liebe) es ist was es ist**
And I exist if existentially
As April is the cruelest month so
Sunday is the cruelest day I know
But this is since these are brightest and best
Like stars to light and lift me through the rest
To get to forget to get to a place
Where forgetfulness remembered as grace
Makes Aprils and Sundays the kindest then
Perhaps I could be and be happy when
I lose myself in being utterly
Perhaps I could be happy not to know
And be simply fortunate even so
Even though the being is only me
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
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In Spirit,
Bear