Silence
Silence
There come a time
In a fearful moment
After the talk silence is observed
And there come a time
When to kill pride and shame
Though a difficult rocket launch
All in silence, they off their robes
Orally they never say it is time
Indeed the contact brings a speech
With sweat dripping, they are numb
Lots of calories lost
Each reasons a different technique
Next time they rally
The only judge is the bed
The bedbugs could sue them
But it is a silent creature.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
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Dreams are maps
Dreams are maps
When I wake up in the morning
All I have to do I’ve seen
…Especially; all pressing needs.
But which way does it come
…Direct or indirect?
Mostly I can’t dodge
Perhaps destiny’s drawn plot
When I make mistakes
None is too big to pull through
…Especially; if I slept well …a night before.
When I have a goal,
I call it a goal
Only,
…When I dreamt or see a vision.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2010 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
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Save Me; Nigeria
Save Me; Nigeria
Have you ever tasted pains
Nor swallowed suffering like pills
On an empty plate?
If you haven’t: thank God for your position…
Laziness not the chief hitch of my people
Civil-rights dished out our meals in a broken pot
Our leaders and dogs are not peerless
Equality, ask not why but why not.
Their only truth is good mourning
However, check your watch.
Our oil-well Judas thirty pieces of silver
Pocketing poverty, ask not why but why not.
Brothers, sisters and parents
Mar and scar my able-flesh
This nation is a no Hamlet
Save me… Aso Rock
Biggest amongst the west
Yet,
Our leaders prowl misjudging
The prowlers as innocent
The prince of Hamlet
Now goes outside his assignment
Save me;
Mother democracy is dead.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
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Tales Of A Wife : Sheila
Sheila
When I saw her during the winter
Tucked-in thick big hood-sweater
Casual like a tweedier
The inner-me said she glitter
Looked her dead in the eyes, only to get fever
Smiles of a newborn, I could shiver
Anticipation worsen the cold in winter
Weather was harsh, no fast coming summer
Mere hearing her name tongues twister
Haler: I forever dwell in favorable fever
Her caress an essential sweaty tummler
Job well-done sweepback in my locker
Soft skin like vela “what a twofer”
Sweet-talk and touch I feel a toddler
When I saw her during the summer
In beauty-upholster
I realized the reasons God rested on the seventh day.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
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Tales Of A Wife: Grooming her hair
Enveloping her within the legs,
Mailing passion via a brush
Brushing her long…
Bushy hair
From the flaked hair-tip
Touching the crowded crown
Desire is forever
Beauty lost its hairbreadth.
Enveloping her within the legs
Mailing passion via a string
In and out
Like fork to noodle
Sequentially
Picking
Rolling
And packing
Enveloping her within the legs
Mailing intimacy,
Charity
To brush-over agony
Pop-up
And brush-up honey
Her mirror is oversaturated with beauty
She hates mirrors, she is homely
Parity of a brush-stroke
Passion a bubo rises
As the brush goes down
Smile always come out
Passion a limpid
Sensationally aroused
Censored !
Ah…. you young kid.
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Duchess 2: Last Letter to Esther
Dear Esther,
You are the finest of ebony no lie
God broke the mould after he created you so fine
Innocent gaze;
Let me be the one in your eyes
Let me be the tears in your cries
While I’m alive and when I die.
Dear Esther,
Cross no lips, I’ll carry your cross
We don’t need to be in Persia
Just put on a smile with you we can both be King & Queen
God broke the mould; you’re so fine
Seeing you Duchess; a Dukes’ pain’s pleasure
Sanative yet, you give my blood pressure
Dear Esther, you’re so fine
Say yes and be mine and I’ll be fine.
The only muddies I’ll deep both arms
Reading my heart is no tilling a farm
It’s cool and calm
No volcano harm
You as an image block my brain like a dam
Dear Esther, my dye -in-the-wool affection
I know I’m not the only one but
You can’t find this true obsession
A last train to passion, no smite
Clown in a circus I’ll be
To always and forever
Make you smile.
Dear Esther,
Esther don’t be a myth
Yours sincerely;
Dear Esther.
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O there she stands
O there she stands
O; there she stands
Opposite me; I mean very close
For moments I dreamt
Don’t dare: she is fine.
As beautiful as beauty
Accidentally her name means pretty
Well shaped in figure, call her figure eight
Or that hatred I hate
On her vista
My manhood grows
Signs of breathtaking lust
Will my likelihood ever be expressed?
O there she stands
Unconsciously smiling to so pleased
Repositioning and destroying my medulla
O… there she stands.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
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The Girl I first Love
When she’s blonde haired,
Beauty is green-eyed
As I touch her chocolate skin
Slim and slender
Her all natural body
Her hair is Africa-dark
European-long
Asia-soft
America-style; braided
Australia-peaceful paradise
Strutting across my sight like vision
She is the air I breathe
The ghost to miss
She is the perfect choice
She is give and take
I enjoy her natural tits,
High-energy moves
She is my most intimate affection!
An absolute killer beauty
One of the very best
Nature is the first girl I love.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
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Tales Of A Wife: Anonymous
Her lashes are sooty coal
Her smiles are exactly shaped,
I wish I were a mold.
To stare mutely at her down the road
Watch her laugh out those teeth as white as snow
The trumpeting trumpet, she’s that I love to blow
Maybe she don’t: but I think she knows.
Her backside curved valuable like gold
If she is money my all should be sold
‘Beauty Queen’ I call her chola,
Her architect had a plan neatly nocuous
For making her so deftly gorgeous
Such a beam: she could be my nurture
Even when she says not a word to me by the road,
Her presence is so-so,
She is such a beam never to let go,
Every now and now she walks by the road
High heals talking: I stand like a mold
Eyes wondering like a lost toad
Maybe in her I could find a home
But how can, when she steals an inner-bold?
Dangerously sharp as a woody thorn
For her, my skin is willing to bleed
I hope it yeilds result like a batchfed.
She is a tempting sin I love to hold
Her name she says not to me by the road
My liver and nerves fail,
Science may say its virus but I’m simply scared.
I make no sound nor pretty word
Pretty hurts
Honestly I yield
Wish I could talk
All my coins I drop in a wishing-well,
Yet, most flaunting got me so cold
As she passes by the road.
e-Paper Poetry of Vinx 