e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

Category Archives: Prose

Spinsterhood

Heard you’re scared
Of being single
And so desperate
Hence want to mingle.

Menopause is coming
Any man, you pray..
Sister, a fretting care,
Turns hairs to grey.

Angel or Demon
To you, ring assures
Desperate times calls
Desperate measures

I wish you see,
The bigger picture…
Wedding in haste
Is repent at leisure.

Take your time sister
Till ring and rose find you;
There are soulmates
For everyone; dear sister.

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

Back to crèche

I wish, I practice magic
When situations are tragic
I would never let death win
Those who sink, will have a fin.

I take giant strides for success
Just when I am about to pop and rest
Postman lands pink slips on my hands
Am to success, a one night stand.

I wish, I practice magic
I will destroy all tragics…
Cold outside, but I am sweating
When asked; “how are you this morning”

Should I reply the obvious
“Fine”, when am a faulty box,
And even with my aging flesh
Life keeps taking me back to Crèche.

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

Womb Prose: Kicking bumps

I love to feel your kicking limbs
There goes my hands, to hold and climb
I will like to know what you think
I love you dearly, let it sink..

I bet your world is full of thrills
Worry not of the future bills,
I do not mind looking unkempt
Just to make sure, you are alright.

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

Does being good pay?

A bad penny always turns up..
I once believed, bad trees do not
Yield good apples, but I was wrong
When I saw men disturbing peace
Breaking black pipes, blowing up streets
Fetching from the National cake.

I saw “Malams”, apprehending men
Slitting sacrificial lambs,
Terrorizing the governments.
I saw folks, blending in dark bushes
Joining the gangs causing havoc;
The type that makes the Devil proud.

Funnily, those we call miscreants
Are to governments, faithful ants
To keep them hush, they grease their palms
Flying them out as amnesty
Coming back, they even contest
Dictating for governance.

But here we are as good people
Eating the scraps and leftovers
Of the miscreants who live large.
Good conscience may be good pillow
Certainly not in our headless
Societies, with so much unrest.

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

Vanquished brutally

The riches of the world, makes me humble
Yet, a new week brings a new fumble;
No way out for the candle in the wind
Finally, my village people wins.

Thought I had substance, till devil prized me
Sheepishly am rigid up to my kneels
Standing like a tree blown fiercely by storms
It seems like, my village people won.

In hot pan but the wax refuse to melt
Obviously most wax gained many regrets
No way out for the candle in the wind
Finally, my village people wins.

The battle is lost in eyes of soldiers
Hence, I often look over my shoulders
Standing like a tree blown fiercely by storms
It seems like, my village people won.

Inside me rage builds ready to explode
Heavy heart, yet loads comes in like a flood
Sticking like a glue, blowing like a storm
It seems like, my village people won.

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

The strength of hope

Surrounded by the energies of negativity,
Emerging with a great charge of positivity
Even in a stinky dung or in a deep coma
The smell of hope has a pleasant aroma

At first, you sniff more than you should
Until you surrender your mighty taste buds
Even with logically evidence flying around
A lot of people will make discouraging sounds

But hope will stick with a great satisfaction
Giving the mind an awesome gratification,
Even the far fetched triumph is motivating
Creating that crazy sense of well-being.

Obviously, hope is that not everyone fancy
Many at times it is seen as complacency…
Even when it fixes a million wears and tears
Just because it is empty, they look elsewhere

No matter what may be on the other table
Hope makes man’s wants and needs; satiable
Even when doubts critic contentment
Hope seals all until success cement it.

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

Base on principles

Hands on deck,
You call me smart; each time, I
Complete a task…
Am not God;
But, I see things possible,
And doable…

Feed your brain
No man comes to earth filled up
Believe me;
Wisdom is
In heads with brains, so give yours
The best shot….

Nothing more
But with patterns and base on
Principles,
You can do
Just anything you wish to do;
Yes you can.

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

My last cure

Dam by my morals
Scared of historic rials
My last cure is called hope
It kept me from suicide notes

I had sprouted huge detest
Fighting life with my breathe
And anything I could throw
So wedges could, let me roll…

You may ask, why am hurt
And why I can’t let it rot
Truth is, hopes have no bends
Am never bored on its bed.

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

Breath of good news

Today I read the newspapers
I felt wounded and so bittered;
No good news like yesterdays
And days before yesterdays.

Go call me all the journalist
Bloggers and media analyst
Tell them all, I have breaking news
Cool and fresh, like the morning dews.

Beautiful headlines but lengthy
Hence, they need uncountable sheets;
More than bad viral and the floods
But why do we so love discord?

Today I read the newspapers
I felt wounded and so bittered
No good news like yesterdays
And days before yesterdays

For God sake billions can still breath
Plenty lives are swept off their feet
Plenty victories are achieved
Plenty more than reported mischiefs

Plenty lovely words are exchanged
Plenty goodness across all stages
Plenty sparkles from good friendship
Worth read, waking up from a sleep.

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

The bravery of a rain

As vapor condensed in the atmosphere
So is the sphere of a man not treated fair!
Well, I have never seen a man bold as the rain
Although I hear, there are ways to hold the rain

Not in terms of clinch, grip, catch and fetch
But spirituality in ways that thoughts can’t mesh
Others says, it is the fume from salts and burnt leaf
Coupled with incantations to mystify beliefs

And that sometimes, it comes with thunder
Either from Nature or a fighting Rainmaker
All Rainmakers know, you can’t shove a natural force
And keep expecting it not to build on the parse.

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