Showers of unfulfilled Desire
Showers of unfulfilled Desire
Showers of unfulfilled desire,
Emperor of ire
My most bitter fury.
Open red anger
Love-stone owner
All
I set my eyes on.
Promising,
Bright and beautiful.
Dreams, keen reality;
Welcome home
Casualty arrived,
My hope has set her eyes on setback.
Up,
Down.
I look lost in expectations,
I count moments of my
Unreliable tossed coin
I await for.
I know trust is dead,
Don’t remind me
My confidence is lost,
Dependence missing,
Faith gone astray,
Reliance lifeless,
Stock now mislaid
Hope is no where to be found.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2009 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Making love for the first time
Making love for the first time
Dreams becoming reality
Attractive appealing and enticing
So slow, sash and peplum untying
Scared, that know-how lacking
Sweet sanative stroke so agonizing
Satyr and virgin
So painful, yet complying
Derailing so… so deep and shallow
Busy hands bodies the pillow
So agonizing and penetrating
Same spirit stroking and sweating
Climax shaking, screaming and bleeding
Unforgotten this love’s so hurting
Chiefly; for the first time…
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
Delilah! Delilah!
Delilah! Delilah!
Bring no shaves to the condo
It is so unsafe for the secrets down my hairs
Delilah! Delilah! Delilah…
Look outside the window
Many philistines wait
Bring me no afterglow
Bed and battle keep our love lockdown
My mistress against my prowess
O, I’m at war…. O Delilah!
Many philistine await
Look outside the window
Don’t make me feel down and out
Don’t make me go down in the mouth
Don’t be another Adams’ eve and apple
Delilah! Delilah! Delilah
Let go my Amazon; Let go my hairs
Just look outside the window
Many philistine await
Await the death
The death of Delilah’s Sam.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
Tales Of A Wife: Her Undies
Her underwear is like Venus-fly-trap
Boys’ even girls are insects
The banquets table never empty.
Her underpants as white as Vega
Attractive special sacred like Veda
Sands of time thus forbids her
Skinny t-shirts, transparent skirt
Aroused a non-wood must surely be
Sands of time says she is death-defying
Her undies as hot as the afternoon sun
Red-chilies; demanding like bitter stout
Many been there like waves and ripples
If only they could speak…
The reverberation of the owls
Are signs of death.
Duchess 1: Esther and I
How come we’re still alive?
After no count poison-pen
Union of no anniversary but dungeon
When did it start when would it end?
How come we stayed alive?
After many bombs dwelling hearts in
Bees hive, self-inflating scares on oneself
Want it broken; sacred to let it bend
How come we faked and jive?
Saying we don’t care
Yet we pay attention honeyed and dulcet
When would we be frank and kill pretends?
