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Trauma

There is a place on a map
Visible but yet unseen.
Coming as a nightmare
Tagged to victims like a scar.

More like a faith in fate
Turning reality to dreams
Vis-a-vis dreams to realities;
More than one may comprehend.

It is so unexplainable
So never mock who you see
Running out of insanity
Into unseen places on a map.

There are moments like that
One may never surpass the point
Of the reoccurant images
From an awful looking past…

At times some may spring from
The deep submergence of pains
Coming from this place on a map
Experience alone can spot.

Some may scream out loud
Some may take a step back
Some may wake from a nap
Some may never come back.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Becca

Becca is a lady blessed
With heavenly beauty
That can possibly pause time.
Her body is an ocean
A million treasures behind.

She has an invisible force
That pulls regions together
In her gracious presence
Obsession bloom like flowers
And grow like tidal waves.

She ease the romance
In an affection of love
Oh what a beauty!
Becca is the lady
All Poets have talked about.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Her Appetising Body

The delightful thing about beauty
Is that its pleasant box is never empty
Digging into it, one is never bored
But lust staring, down the corridor.

I’ve seen more but hers I can tell
Is the direct descendant of an angel;
Rare, charming, delightful and sweet
Fragile, clean from her head to feet.

When she passes, gazes begin to drift
She makes me dwell on a fantasy cliff
Herein my heart has stopped to beat
For her I die, she is a master piece

Do not judge me by my ordeal
Her quality gene is worth the deeds
She is a wonder, no scars and dust
Her body is so scrumptious.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Coats of love

True love is a rare beauty
Pictured in a perfect couple
But, looking beyond the rings
There may be a familiar bird
You’ve always known as a Rose
Hiding behind love, crying, save me!

Under the blue sky birds fly
Freedom is all you may see
Yet those tiny wings are chained
There are many familiar birds
You’ve always known as lovers
Hiding behind love, crying, save me!

The oceans have its depth
Where valuable treasures are found
Yet in it, a lot are lost
Beneath hearts of the familiar birds
You’ve always known as perfect lovers
Bloods are gushing, please save me!

Going through the stories told
Of glittering jewelries sold
Remember, not all sold are gold
There are familiar birds
You’ve always known as lovers
Hiding behind love, crying, save me!

A love nectar may taste sweet
But beyond the flowers scent
The bees that suck, get choked
There are familiar birds
You’ve always known as lovers
Hiding behind love, crying, save me!

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Greek fire

There is this want and demand, like oxygens to nostrils
A Greek fire brings back life, she’s a wonder girl!
Creamy, sweeter than teas, hot, and full of trills
Fresh like morning dews no wonder the angels fell.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Keep doing you

I heard them say;
you are chasing whirl winds
Pursuing dreams
which dry pockets always win;
Earning just back pats,
poverty remains unsolved
Don’t allow that deter you
from what you truly love.

Most times, not every passion
is meant to pay the bills
To develop, back pat remains
the much needed pill;
Yes, there are rich nutrients
in the smallest almond
Thank God for who you are,
an adorable black diamond.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Mr. Terrorist

Another bomb blast and mother’s tears
Son, do you have fear of God to spare?
Who would you lead when all disappears
Will crowns matter without heads to wear?
Old goes the saying, those with ears hear.

Another bomb blast, I need a clue
So you just decided to stain the blues?
Wish I could see from your point of view
Wish I could comprehend just a few
Of your blades and the coldblooded tools.

Another bomb blast; another rankle
Sending messages as lit candles;
Why botcher people like the cattle
Why pull the trigger of a rifle
On civilians for just a title.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

City’s best days

We are real people heated by tantrums
Sweating heavily, like we do to rums…
We have tasted hell, we dwell in storms
Sailing towards stars we wish to become.

Moving at our pace, we got no fancy cars
But we construct roads with our sweats as tars
Aiming for moons by shooting at the stars
At sunset, we all gather at lounge and bars;

Pouring drinks into intoxicating glass
Dancing and forgetting about the grass
Sharing experiences and evaluating plans
Gaining wisdoms and getting high at last

We are everyday people that often frown-
-At our jobs: everyday we are taken down
But, we do not take off the painful crown;
Nights and weekends, are our best in town.

©2019 Http://Vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Pots and mushrooms

Beauty and the beast days
Are unrealistic tales
When the beast is so poor
And have nothing to pour
Now; beauties are reserved
For big bags and big rides.

The bush we have these days
Where mushrooms were those days
All have a trader’s face
Welcoming but they chase
Accepting busy pots
And a big heavy purse.

Demands on their tables
Are unattainable
These days pillows drip tears;
Gone are the sweet old days
When craves were benign, soft
Like marshmallow; and sweet.

Those we crush on in church
Sound it, “drop cash to touch”…
Then, all these fears were there
Stronger than love they bear
But its walls were fallible…
While love, unbreakable.

The mushrooms on dead woods
Are no where to be found
Because they all sort out
For busy cooking pots
Now, love is if you can
Cook the conditional.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Haiku: Embezzlement in government

Happy fleas
in doghouses are happy
While they leap.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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