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Monthly Archives: August 2011

Love, Never Enough

Love like Money
Takes time
Love like Honey
Taste fine
Love likes the Devil
So stays blind
Love likes Heavens
Soul plane high
Love like Poisons
Makes drowning caskets
Love like Medicine
Makes a dunk shot
Please kill not yourself Romeo
Because you’ll never get enough.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
(c) 2011 http://onyecheonyeka.wordpress

Dads’ revolting old 504 automobile

Green, grey, multicoloured automobile
When it rains, it showers on the supposed roofed seats
Floating on water, the wind shield wiper has gone pre history
Crying out to be flung, tilted revolting old 504 automobile

Hotwire ride, giver of the family morning exercise
Did the engine airborne poor witches overnight
Or has the witches dead beaten its efficiency
Always failing break, Dads’ desert warrior and pit combatant

Tires worn, rearview mirror and headlights travelled to exile,
‘Are you blind, get out!’ voices are blown instead of horns
Only if the roads could speak
At the peak of disappointment spiteful is to the throttle cable.

On motion the gust of wind howls and tears
Gushing out dust and muddy sands,
Exhaust attempts hunting the flying birds
Be not frightened by the shrill sound of Dads’ old 504 automobile.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2009 http://www.vinzpoetry.wordpress.com

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
(c) 2011 http://onyecheonyeka.wordpress

Don’t Call Me Mad : Sorry I Can’t Pray

Sitting by the blue print of life
Tasting the goods of high five
My bible takes a deep dive
Away into the deep sea

Blue blinded Napoleon
I forget lil me came from it
Refusing its meat
Pigry invitation, my heart agree…

Looking at the potter of my clay
Truely it rocks, not just one pay
Its now engrave wish I could pray
Deeply touch, I cry on


There’s no much room
Merriment’s a pyre restroom
Of which the sand’s roomy.

Tolerance and vengeance
Mario is deprived
Of a mushroom jump

The dead pyretic ground’s roomy
Mario that you dog’s
Of you and in you.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

(c) 2011 http://onyecheonyeka.wordpress

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

(c) 2011 http://onyecheonyeka.wordpress

I Know

False figure she drew
On my breathe board
Roses displaced
Not even replaced
With a mere goldenrod.

Shouldn’t have been
The golden rule
That rust in my blood
Even Steve Wonder sees

Future gone behind us
Ring lost it’s hole
Ray Charlse, I played
Telling her ‘hit the road’

Flesh eat flesh
Out there, dear Mary
I rinsed my hand
-As I sing
Heartbreak, I know…

Sight Ahead Of Limits

I see ahead of time
I’m a no wizard
At the bees honey hive

Tryin to fingerplay luck
Like whites did black
Limits is that so no blink

I see ahead of time
Because time is bizzard
And I got to stay alive…

(C) Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com

Don’t Call Me Mad: Sunday

If monday comes next
Sunday o what a day
Saturday is over,
So good to say
Blessings must stay

If heaven is white…
Sunday’s good in gaze
Sad days are over
Sacrificial ram on tray
Better on a Sunny day

If Bible isn’t next
Son never put up a fight,
Sin nor cling a fist.
Sing; “sunday’s blissful
Brighter than bright light”.

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