e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

Home » 2012 » March (Page 2)

Monthly Archives: March 2012

Flight of my imagination

In my present
I’m absent
Building castles in sky
Bringing sky’s
To earth;
I could oppose gravity
And be anywhere
Oh! What creativity…

Up, high and top
I’m the best fiction,
Saga lord and fable noble
Heart loving, I’m a thriller.
Mr. Bionic the ultimate,
I’m never down
Even when I’m downhill, I’m never losing.
I monkey about but focus

I am destiny;
I decide fate
I see no poverty
No resistance, no tide
My ocean flows smoothly
My spaceship fly out well
All in the flight of my imagination.

(C) 2010
The True Poesy

written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka


  • Acumen and feat
    The famous are so uncomfortable on the title seat
    While the riff-rats are in search of it.
  • written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    Tales Of A Wife: First Outing With A Love

    First outing with a love,
    What a color combination that makes the stars glow.
    Glittering, she forced me into smile when I drifted mood.
    Sweet surrender, a moment I treasure that I dream when I am not sleeping
    My impulse as loud as the earth-quaking ground
    Love at the beach appears as that of the hottest summer even when in winter
    Like sea animals, we played in the water that the fishes so admired
    All for love, the salt has turned hydrophilic
    Wet, I watched her swim; she is a fish
    Refraction could understand our desires that it made her appear closer
    As I touched her, I felt the electron discharge; she is filled of current
    Mermaid she appeared as she cat-walked out of the waterside
    Face glittering like the stars, she adores
    As she swung her long dark hairs, she sterilized the air
    No germs, I inhaled love
    I couldn’t withstand her seductive slow cat spinning waist
    She got me lost in ecstasy daydreaming and thinking brainlessly.

    (C) 2008

    written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    Tales Of A Wife: Falsehearted Aficionado

  • Impressive to the system she operates
    Sorrowful to the stunts she executes
    Like a laptop, she sits on the lap
    Thankful to the adorable mayflowers
    Lovely to an engaged table
  • Smirks by his side at demand time
    Believes in harvest and despises the hazy
    Until the end of time, she is never decisive
    Not allover, never all over at difficulty
    Stalking and discarding admirers so she flaunts
  • The erosion originator eroded soil, rest-ripper, and sorrow-donor.
    Falsehearted aficionado, bloodsucking emotion figment of an imagination
    Like the fishes to the water so is the stars to the space
    In the Milky Way, he fix on to another star
    Her vigilant radar is to no-win location
  • At dilemma junction
    The moon got two stars in mind
    On his shoulder she falls, grabbing his hands
    Like the shooting stars, the new dates unbearably scuttle away
    Yet she is not here and she is not near.
  • (C) 2009
    The True Poesy

    written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    Don’t Call Me Mad: Fallen Angels

      To the old heavenly hedge of thorns,
      Curse is that heavenward fateful days.
      Heaving confusion witty hellion’s decisions
      Faffing about to the underworld; on earth, evil boxes sprout
      Fallen angels grabbed the stolen heave-ho.
      Curse is that heavenward fateful days.
  • (C) 2009
    the true poesy
  • written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka


  • In its colored Ink, chalk, and voice box, it echoes
    The names that runs after fathers and sons
    Stinging the muscular and vulgar tongue
    Noticed at the rear of identification
  • Drumming hard, it forces my willing mind into palpitating
    Unconsciously my neck swivel and bend
    It forbids my legs at a standstill, but move
    I dance to the true Africa samba
  • Picking the best of all colorful wrappers, cowries, shrines and its endowment
    Whistling and braying sure we know not but heyday
    The vixen roast, the ram smells good, the wine is natural
    The plebeians’ lives in love waggishly forgetting sorrows
  • written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    Entreaty For Success

  • Lord,
    Clout my words
    Set my hands
    And move my legs,
    Miss me from stoppage sword
    Spot me like an innocent child
    Harden my cord
    Let all difficult rivers be ford
    Stop all bees’ hordes
    As I go honey hound.
  • Milk and honey fond
    My life be straightforward,
    But if I’m to live to die wretched;
    Why shall I be born or get my sword stretched?
    Oh, lord!
    Like in my mother’s womb, give me a cord
    Strengthen me like a rod
    Listen to my entreaty for victory.
  • (C) 2010
    The True Poesy

    written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    Elder Brother!!!

  • Elder brother elder brother
    Must let go the meal for the younger
    Elder brother elder brother
    So difficult being a leader
    Elder brother elder brother
    You scared but pretending
    Elder brother elder brother
    You never admit till you’re loser
    Elder brother elder brother
    Killing himself with pride
    Elder brother elder brother
    Must speak less to gain power
    Elder brother elder brother
    Now bored but acts not bothered
    Elder brother elder brother
    Does not know but has to say
    Elder brother elder brother
    Limited to steps and smile
    Elder brother elder brother
    Must deadly live up to expectation
    God please provide a special place
    For the elder ones to fool their selves
    At least, for once in their lives.
  • (C) 2009


    written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka


  • The uptown and ghetto man
    Mixing and allocating concrete
    White and dusty painted
  • He digs and covers
    A sole founder of many buildings
    But of all have none
  • Plummet sweat falls like birds
    On pins and needles
    He stops and cleans his face
    On his dirty shirt
    All for the paper chase
    All for the good days
    All salty sweat his only taste
  • Digging and covering, sweat drops like rain
    He thinks on how to spend all his pay in the bay
    Lots of drinks,
    Cheap drinks, smoke and friends
    The only female he knows gave him a pole distance
    He stew about her never changing leg boot
    She is his hope, creed and faith
  • Rain drops on him
    Sun showers allays the cold
    Under the snowflakes, he hustles
    No pain is profitless
    His joy is a secret
    His grief and fear too
  • Distant hope, creed and faith
    The only lover he chose
    Deep her hands into his hard profit
    And buried it six feet
    Beneath the ground
    As he cleaned his hands on his dirty shirt
    Rinsing it better on his face
    Fate; another female he knows appeared
  • Fate is always a waste
    The only lover he chose
    Hustling while he waits
    Served him an empty plate.
  • (C) 2010
    The True Poesy

    written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    %d bloggers like this: