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Born of rape

I am a cell
That often sail
From abortions
And its portions
You were the maid
Ripped into shreds
Triggered I swarm
Away from shams

But your ovary
Just couldn’t free
A frightened cell
Running from hell
After a month
Doctors report
Confirmed you were
Pregnant; I feared

And since you had
No one to hold
Responsible;
Like most people
Abort and move
I thought you would
But you stood up
Strong like a rock

You carried me
A growing hill
And I wondered
Deep down under
How you managed
With all those rage
To keep me warm
Inside your womb.

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

I hate December

Although I love Christmas
The time is here again
When we all fight
Desperately
To make double gain
By any means
Necessary.

Although I love Christmas
I detest pains she cause
Our poor loved ones
Picture them crying
From our ugly fates
When it creates
The prefix late.

Although I love Christmas
Life ought to be simple
Not as tipples
Carelessly do
Gambling it all, and
Forgetting
There are no spare parts.

Although I love Christmas
I hate December
Because she creates
A mentality;
Hey! don’t be late
When no one
Closes the gate…

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

Bad shape of love

Gather the broken mirrors
Bring shreds to my huts
I can fix just anything
So I thought, till she left
Here I am as a shred
Not they say, but the first hand
To the tears and the rain
Pouring down in great pain.

I failed an easy game
Though I hide all the shame
But I am a sour grape
And my heart is in bad shape…
Thought I could fix anything
Till I was the broken thing
I am torn, and so cold
Yet these glues cannot hold,

Now I know, the face of rage
Some things are damaged
Beyond redemption
Where glues can’t function
Gather my broken clay pots
Yes, it is all my fault
I am running insane
Since she left me this way.

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

Womb Prose: Talking to the unborn

Hello, what would you do for fun,
In few months time, you will be born
Now your heartbeats, sound so sweet
I’ve seen your kicks and summersaults
Can’t wait to hold your tiny hands
On your cradle, innocent glance.

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

Sex with poetry

Poetry is my sweet lover
Whether I am cold as cucumber
Or million degrees hot as hell
All my emotions are that she tells…

No matter the situation
Her passion, springs me to action
Painting pictures of her with words
Ecstasy; naked like a seed…

Amazing how she spreads her legs
Ravishing for all kinds of pegs
Lust in thoughts, I so love the urge
That comes from creative ink and brush…

An amazing sight to steal a glance
Her pretty face has good fragrance
Inhaling and appreciating
Nature, and all on, its great slate

Pen and paper, I always wear,
Because we make love everywhere,
Romancing me, all night and day
She blow my mind, in the right ways

Licking my brains, in sarcasm
To the heights of sweet orgasms
And as we age, we grow fonder
Poetry is my sweet lover.

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

Womankind

Handle women like an egg
True love you will never beg
They can never be dethroned
No matter their broken bones,
The hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

There wouldn’t have been a man
So please, respect the woman
Compliment her with your strength
And do not strike her with it…
The hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Not all time, she hits the nail
Humans are to err and fail
But please never you laugh at her
Instead, play and laugh with her
The hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

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

Coming of smash

I do not like grapes but in a bad shape,
When I ran out of luck, and had a shock
That the nuts are rare to the blind squirrels
The Elephant fell; I experienced hell.

I do not like grapes but in a bad shape,
When I got no help, and no honor left,
Then I knew; that when you smile, the world smiles
A lot but, when you cry, alone will cry.

I do not like grapes but in a bad shape
I adjusted my taste, and amended my faith
To enable me yield and let the pain lead
And breed me seeds that will cover the fields.

I do not like grapes but in a bad shape,
It was condition that made crayfish bend
Hence, I only breath with hope and believes
Bearing it all, till the smash hits the shores.

©2019 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Drowning stars

Muds are falling from above,
Its stains are hardly removed
We dwell in an ugly town,
The globe is turned upside down.

Hardship is our preferred chill
Lessons we never learn from peels
We claim sight yet we are blind
Our highest speed, lags behind.

Beneath floating iron rods,
Stars are drowning in the floods
We have recipes but lack the chef;
And our ideas are created for shelf.

Corruption everywhere,
Employment drop every year
Leaders we have are vultures;
Embezzling, all our treasures.

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

Sonnet for a goddess

I used to think, beauty had a key
Unlocked by wealth and artificial quay

I never knew goddess exist, I assumed
Most beautiful girls in town were doomed.

I saw them as prostitutes that got laid
Until my presumptions finally failed.

I didn’t just meet beauty but a good lady
Tall like the hills and body hot like chilli

Her thick hips were round like an arc
In her acts, I saw a godly covenant ark

Hence I fell at her feet to worship her
Not just for her unforgettable wonders

Neither for her ravishing and freezing gaze
But; because she gave me a brand new phase.

©2019 http://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
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