Poems by Sher Chandley

Poems by Sher Chandley


Seachild # 8

There is a tree
Called Kanniedood
A tree that cannot die

When I look up
Into the sky
The star’s once ,
So near and warm
Now distant and cold
Dim as the sadness
That oppresses me

I weep and beg
For a brotherhood
Of all the different men
In all the many lands
With bitter tears
I cry out pitifully
Against injustice ,
Poverty and War
I plead on my knees
To make Soulbrothers
Of You and I

Everyone agrees
Saying what’s right
Doing what’s wrong
Trampling my pity
Crucifying my mercy

Bereft of hope
The sea calls me
To lull and caress me
To solace what life
Cannot mend
Then I float languidly
On a river in the sea
Under a flowering moon
In a gem encrusted sky
With glittering stars
Flow past strange lands
To a horizon of peace
On a remote desert
Where I bury my skeletons
Deep on that coast

In that holy place
There is a tree
That cannot die
Yet seems lifeless
Thrusting out
Like a withered hand
From burning sands
For an eternity it’s nothing
But parched dry wood
Yet touched by the elixer
Of a wet ghost mist
Or a light sparce rain
Magically bursts into life

The sea calls me
To that place within me
Where my tears wet
The tree of my humanity
With mercy and pity
The tree I climb
When lions of ignorance
So cruelly roar
In dogma and arrogance
All around me .

@ Sher Chandley



“Heard a statistic today that despite our planet producing more than enough food through advancements in food science and transportation systems. More then 1/5 of the 7.5 billion people in rhis planet go to bed hungry EVERY day! That is roughly 1 billion people starving. Sobering.”
Soleil Lyla (Enigma)


I am a beggarman
I must flee !
You’ve set the dog’s on me !
Deaf beggar hears it first
Blind beggar sees it first
Lame beggar runs first
Oh , we have our tricks you see
But we have our own
Plus other mouths to feed
At our meagre banquet
It’s not like a restuarant or shop
Where you pay for food
Or a banking institution, giving
Only to those who have
At our spread
Sparse as it might be
We Sher and Sher alike , equally.


Look at me , will ya !
Don’t hurry by
Without hardly a glance
Where is your propriety ?
So pinch your nostrils
Roll your eyes with disdain
I feel and know
My clothes are tattered
My make-up is grime
My face written with cracks
A parchment of hard times
My perfume an earthy stink

I know what you think
That has brought me to the brink
The substance wings of dreams
Maybe , the mellow cup of joy
Plain down laziness as a ploy
But listen good, you fool
Those are rare exclusions
To the causes and rule
Maybe I am gentrified
In an alley to live and hide
Old , retrenched – “overqualified”
Maybe I am mentally ill
A misunderstood bipolar
A manic depressive
A refugee fleeing war
But really , you see
We all in a war
Of rich against poor

Enough said !
Come now
Toss a penny in my cup
Or must I cringe and fawn
To your haughty pride
I willingly kowtow
To make you feel good
Embarrassed me ?
Yes , so what !
For hunger’s penny
I pocket dignity
I subvert ego
I swallow pride
Ride absent opportunity’s tide

Look at me , will ya !
I am not an illusion
Yes , I shatter your reality
You see ,
I’m in poverty !

@ Sher Chandley
2019/11/20 .

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