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Monthly Archives: January 2018

Good things

In an ice cold heart
You came up with flames
“A-good-thing” you are
As said in your name…

The very moment
I set eyes, on you
The moonlight was full
And the sky was blue…

Right on my sparkplugs
I felt an object
Which was a desire
A wild burning fire…

Consuming me up
With spices of ketchup
You are the magic
Call for the medics

Funny that you hate
The goodbyes at night…
I sigh, you pranked me
With the tears from hills

Wonder why you are
So lazy to read
Yet your brain is filled
With a lot of things

Your smile lits the moon
Your voice lights up mood
God’s Glory be praised
She uploaded your face…

Love letter you wrote
Inconclusive but
Aside muse and cheer
I love you so dear.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Reasons to kiss

Have you jammed nose
In contact to lips
Not really for spits
Neither for the blitz

But by the magnets
That pulled you to it
By beautiful charm

With a warmth feelings
…Have you ever….
Had reasons to kiss?

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sulfur of hell

I always say
You are divine;
I craved in line
Waiting for you…

I dwelled in dark
Until your light
Brought sparks to plugs
Brimstone and fire.

Inside my dreams
For long we kissed
Under the moon,
Until you lit…

Now the sweetness
Of your light speaks
Surely it fuels
Sulfur of hell.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

On the internet

Things that we fear and things we wear
Like leaves on a tree, news is free
Open to the rain yet fearful of ruins

We catch a fever and cry like never before
Posting every secluded entries
Yet we say we have private lives.

Like Pandora’s box like this net
The Onus-Probandi of business deals
Is so ill on the internet.

We take to the cloud sounds so loud
As the moon lits we search for light
This is the life of millennial

Social decorum died in this forum
Now with figurines someone I have seen
And never met; lives on the internet.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Green love

With you darling
My love is green….
Free fall spring;
Sweet songs sing,
Fresh wine, strong wings…

My love is green
Please respect it
Not of deceit
Nor by chance
You are a charm…

My love is green
In all of age
Seasons change
It stays same
In its rebirth

Sitting in fields
Bearing forth fruits
Sweet feelings
Burning flames
Of eternity…

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Tanka: Dying with honor

Take me above skies
Before all my feathers drop…
On sands I shall lie;
After swapping flaps for flop
Than to die without honor.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Knocking on the door (Iku eka’ozo)

The time
When parents
Is gone…

The time
To knock door
By self
For love
Is come

Ku’ eka. (knock hands)
Ozo… (door)
If you
So truly
Love her!

Of Agbor
Will say:
So we
Are here

We came
For a charm
A Rose
Whose scents
We drink..

En’yi (we)
Racho onyen (came finding someone)
Si’kode (that will)
Bu’ye (give)
Enyi nni. (us food)

These sweet words
The wide
Long door
Is opened

Sweet maidens
Starts to
Take turns

In wrappers
From heads
To toes
Come out

We look
We pick
The one
We chose.

©2018 vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Old dream

The globe gets
Smaller as
Time thus flies…

The mountains
That were high
Shrinks in eyes

The River
Still remains
Deep as ever

Avant garde
Are worsen
Day by day…

Lovers of
The old meals
The old clothes

The old songs
We embrace

As we age,
On life’s stage…
Our eyes close

Our dream shows,
Sweet memoir,
Of our past

With honor
One color,
Black and white

Starts to drop.

But fulfilled
Low or hills
The old dream

All the faces
We have seen
Starts to pop.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Drop a Rose

Drop a rose,
Onto my hands,
Let me behold
Pleasant scents.

If its fragrant
Is truly nice
Then you gain
My noble trust,

If it turns
Into two balls
Of red Apple,
Inside my eyes,

Then you gain
My attention,
A real love,

©2018 vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sonnet: Hiding from parents

One of the things
I hate about love
Is the slow shove
And the fast no…
While it’s clear
That parents know
You kiss behind.

Stop drawing lines
Love is an air
Your parents know,
Shallow or deep
Out from a grip,
Affection bores
Inside the heart.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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