Category Archives: Prose

Closed book

Am I the only one in an unspeakable scruple?
Abducting are my faith in praying mountains
Asking questions of many uncertainties.

Signs of end times are manifesting
Same phrase in the ice and stony age
Spinning spontaneously along the twenties.

Patience is now a collapsing mountain
Pro-rata; many gone waiting; please forgive me
Pardon my forsaken sincere curiosity

Avail me answers to these spiritual confusions
Are we left on earth to flourish or perish?
Are we alone in individual trance of existence?

Without Him coming, just our beguiling self-esteem
Waking up to never; when we kick buckets;
Wandering around the charms of a closed book

Yet sleeping in conundrum and enigma of breath
You pretentious humans know what I am saying,
Yahweh please! Open the book for the bigots.

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

Ode of earth

Can I crave your indulgence
To take you all, back in time
When the world was large and just
A virgin newly formed from dust…

Ancients we may name her now,
Then, She was freshest of nouns
For everything about her body
Had the taste of milk and honey.

Treasures and laws; irregular orders
Hence, for fleshy greed of genders
She became as loosed as a mush.
Didn’t the Creator stand and watch,

While emperors ripped and tore her pants
Grabbing all her succulent body parts
Ramming and raping her brutally….
Well; She spread and moan in jubilee.

All the ill they did her, She did not charge
They even stole her lands, wide and large
Building up the wealthy family roots
While the pure and just, fell and rot.

The ancient days, that once were
Filed its knives for striping her wears
And when they did, she echoed their tales
Singing; great warriors, who never fell.

Innocent necks these great warriors slit
She called weaklings, cowards, and unfit.
To all their tears that came in as flood
She open her mouth and swallowed the blood.

From colored dye, time removed the chrome
Like menstrual cycles; her off has come
The echoes of her voice now resounds
No more violence please, no more bloods

Seems she has seen all parts of the movies
She now distinguishes friends and enemies
Coming to her full senses about existence
She speaks against excuses and false pretense

For these current days, the terrorist
Have same fanatical mayhem mentality
That emperor of ancient rocks had swung
But She says, I’m time, I always change.

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

Sonnets: Journalist Cross

In magazines and newspapers
Cameras roll, from pins to poles
Information as a notion
Is a tower and for power.

With sensitive smells, fragile bells
The hounds track cities, woods and hoods
Spilling the pens, writing in dens.

Highlighting subjects and objects;
Painting an art, toping the charts
Of the most love, yet hate revolves.

Their tragic fates brings fears and tears
Why reward them with cuffed hands!
In restraint or a quenching breathe
Yes they scam, don’t cause them harm.

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

Native fly: Eze ri ohanye

Aside my clan
Where lions rule,
I have noticed;
Death can’t pull
Kings who multiply.

Immortal they are
Should crown fall,
Turning to gods
Immortals are born,
One at a time.

Have you seen
With naked eyes
A palace without
Royal charisma?
– Kings are Kings.

“Eze ri ohanye”;
When a King
Ascends a throne,
He assumes
Prerogative role.

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

Poem by a skeleton

Whence the leaves fall, done are the deals
Effing and blinding on shredded cruise.
Whence the dreams end, nothing feels real
Erasing memoir, scar and bruise.

Whence the clay breaks, no light, no ill
Everything goes, you will not know
Whence you see you, just lying still
Each and everyday in the hole.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Last year a corpse

Last night unveiled, my last year corpse
Flashing after the preacher’s touch

Twelve months had gone by in my mull
Of empty sockets; bones and skull

Crossing over, devoid of all
Excuses drawing back the balls.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Benz and Pants

Who do we blame, Benz…
Or the innocent ladies
Or flat bed of Government
Ritualist climb on top.

Above par of emotion
She chose a gravy train
Burning holes in pockets
Cash and carry submission

She takes a collection
Bread and butter in bed
Oh tell the god of seduction
Her arts are now a pitfall.

For the streets never sleeps
While fingers tap keyboards
And eyes watch the monitors
In order for boys to strike gold.

Ever since these boys chose
All or nothing weight of golds,
Going dutch for the money
Greasing her palms in bed

Lady’s now move around
In fear and without pants
Rumours say, it cost a fortune
In shrines where it bleeds

And proceeds fetch the Benz
While the owner of the pants
Mysteriously develop issues
All for the sake of the coins.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Speak directly

Have you ever asked questions
Pertaining your expeditions
Down the paths of religions,
Cultures and traditions ?

Do I believe in a Creator?
Yes I do, but I need a mentor
To prove flames and perceive odours
Oozing through these many doors.

My kneels falls on the floor
Sometimes am lost on its tour
Finding a true faithful shore
But I lie, am filled with His gore,

Taking momentum to ceilings
Expecting extra feelings
After a pool of baptism,
I go speaking in tongues

Acting or not; miracle pours
But I doubt and expect more
More to show, like visible dews
We are many, sadly it is true.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

King of beast

Life as a stage, begins empty…
Gradually wisdom then comes with age;
Sage and brave are on different pages.

In challenges, right on the face,
Cowards are known by the traces of fear
Wrecking and then repressing courage.

Like lions, show no fear on your face
Or else you will be in the circus
Mutely roaring loud inside a cage.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The beauty debates

We take some pictures
A group photograph
We hit upload tabs
Going after likes
We swipe for comments
Complimenting us;
Each person focus
On self compliments.

Awareness drops low
Self illusion rises
“Others are ugly”
Debate continues
Personal mirrors
Acknowledges self
As finest of all
Hotter than the Sun.

Whereas all images
Hanging in timeframe
From holistic view
All have pretty looks
Yet we are all bias
Looking only self
But all; zooming out
The beauty in all.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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