Category Archives: Prose

Like tall palm trees

The journey began as a joke
Till giant strides together yoked,
And there we stood, exchanging vows
Inner me smiled, exclaiming; wow !!!

Like a palm tree gallantly firm
Amidst the dust, and in the storm
Growing so tall, far from a fall
Never scared of heavy down pour

Instead making rich palm wine sap
And thick red oil that never slaps
May we never be affected
By seasons, no matter how red.

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

Tone: Serene love

All birds love to listen
To their selves singing
Sweetly as they fly,
That the Satan cries.

The gospel truth, is that
Have heard many songs
But none as intense as
The sweet serene songs she sings.

Jealous is of the birds
For my baby girl
Shows the best love display
True and no delay.

She handles with kid gloves
My soft heart and soul
Times may come cruel and rough
But, her love is always enough.

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

Prayer to my Guardian Angel

Nothing is hidden
Under the Sun

I know you see all
My crimes and my flaws,

Am only human
Like one, I err.

I might have uttered
Tonnes of wrong words

Am on a chopper
In dimming skies

Turn not your lights off,
The world is dark.

My Guardian Angel
Please guard and guide

Leave me not alone
All on my own

There are Devil’s snares
Am so unsafe.

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

Go through the pain

If you need love
Just let it rain.

If you need breathe
You have to go

Out through the pain
Till it is gained.

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

Parent’s Scholasticism

My mothers prudence
Saved me from
Repeating failures.
Her rules and justice
Gave me grace
And self-discipline.

My dads fortitude
Made me to
Conquer my demons
His great temperance
Counselled me
To abstaining excuses.

During the times of
Bruise and stitch
I recall my parents
And all they thought me
Then I feel
No pain, but healing.

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

My parents glow

Unravelled treasures
The best of pleasures
In all the major
Riches to measure
Yet my parents hold
In God’s writing, bold
Alphabets of load
Yet searching for gold!
All their sectors glow
My parents are great
Far greater than yours.

Not lucky but blessed
Better than the rest
Excess load on chest
Till altruism paid
Goodness never fade
Fat eggs their hens laid.
Others search for gold
And their stories told
Of unequal folds
Oh my parents glow
Fat brighter than yours.

Along the pivots
A load on the left
Makes the right regret
But my parents hold
Not refined but crude
Diamond, silver, gold
Seen as a harvest
From their labor fruit
God blessed my Parents
My parents are great
Far greater than yours.

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

Meticulous God

All I do
When tides are huge
Is to pray
For better days…

And each time
I fail to breath
I still perceive
God’s pleasant stew.

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

Reviving

My shadow is taking over my body
My pillow now lies just above me
The window slams on its own yet; no air
Goes in or out, guess am losing my mind;
Nothing had ever been heavy on me…
My bin is filled with things I used to love.

But I really need to empty the trash
The ice, the diamonds, the golds and silver
Brought lies, axes and arrows piercing me
So if my shadow is better than I
And if my soft pillows use me for rest
No grief it says but just a better me.

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

Mensch

If you were born
With a silver spoon

And never sweated
For golds and burgers

Remember those born
Under the poon

Nothing is wasted
Be a helper.

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

Terrified by the bushbaby’s cry

I could hear the cries
Whose baby is it?
I bet you, the tears
Dropping can fill pits.
In an awkward state
Could it be witches
I reached for my faith…
Praying it all cease
My heart became ice
Froze by many please.

I could hear the cries
Could it be a child
I just could not see..
In darkest of nights
Under the lime tree
Superstitions say
It kills who it sees
In I had to stay
I chose not to be
The brave knight, tonight.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
%d bloggers like this: