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The era of mist

At times I wish I could brag
About a white greenish flag;
Symbolizing endowment
Meant to be inherited…

Soil, air and underground
Blessed with the best ever found
Trenches infantry was born
And to die for its honor,

All the edges are bloodstained
Heroes past will be ashamed
By each dawn, we sink deeper
Catching cruise with the fever…

Patriotism must stay green
Ultimately, I agree
But the love, the strength and faith
I ought to serve with is late.

Looking at the lofty bags
And millions of dirty rags…
Promises float high like mists
We can see but never reach

The suffering in the land
Has totally gone out of hand
Yet we sell our votes and soul
To the bloody dirty pol…

Birthright they claim while they rep
Deaf they play and never help
Corruption trends without fear
Gulping now and future share

At times I wish I could brag
About a white greenish flag;
But I have lost faith and hope
In both the old and the whelp.

© 2022 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachuwkwu

Chained colour


A pejorative colour cost a breath
If you dare, for the love, put on a beret!
Whether new or old, bright or faded
The gloom and doom looms in the shade.

Since the leaf turn mafias, and the roses sail,
Ashes float by the hammer and nail
Even the shadows carry an axe
Other shades of the rainbow has a mark.

Today it is racism, tomorrow religion
And a group's love for segregation
The world has never been the same
Ever since humanity became insane.

Like Ukraine has a bitter stain on it
By the political legion that loves a hit,
Watching the sky covered in gloom
And the sands bleed for a crime it has no clue.

If the night comes out with full rack
Fighting any thing that is opaque
Any form of the shade outside its hive
How would we all feel being alive?

(C) 2022 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu


Fates of loo



Just like light to a surface
Casting shadows on all places
Scars, wrinkles and the dents
Of loo all have common end…

If reflections could only speak
So many secrets would be leaked
For every day a child is born
Loo is by the corner hanging on,

Patiently waiting for the time
Sparks of light will cease to shine
Patiently waiting for its torn
In the minds that put dreams on…

Some may spring from carelessness
Others germinate all by chance
Slipping through one’s own finger
To complete recipes of disaster

What an opportunist loo must be
Fighting what was meant to be…
Up in the smoke, throwing towels
Welcoming another troubled bowel

Right on stage, loo seem to call
Giants and ants until they fall,
Its memories are in kicked buckets
And dust covered bodies in caskets…

The grave is where loo has its theme
Echoing from voices of lost dreams
And once another child is born
Like shadows, by their dreams, loo hands on.


(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Waiting for sunsets

The cock may crow
at the break of dawn
hopeful we are for,
tomorrow’s sun…

There are times I
think about leaving
and where I will be
lost in my sleep

On the thin ice
we are all waiting
like an employee,
for that we reap…

On our payroll
is the same caption:
saying; “when I call,
don’t be stunned“.

(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Flower and honey


There is a song pleasant to ears
Sprouting from hearts and never ends
In it says of warriors, so strong
Yet the weakest in such a song.

There is a sound that the bees make
Sucking nectars, their wings shake
Making sweet honeys from flowers
Yes, it is built into towers!

There is a voice that sometimes shakes
Pouring questions right to the face
Different tribes but same language
Growing fonder from page to page

There is a touch that makes a poet
Connect to soul on single thought
Whether in air, on land or sea
Love it is, where I rather be.

© 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Hazel’s Diary: Growing bond

I have always felt, the ocean is deep
The skies are up and nothing can flip

I felt nothing can halt my wrath from wafting
Until little Hazel, came out stretching

Rare genes translated into a beautiful princess
Quenching volcanic eruption in the process

Smiling like the sun, penetrating with ease
Oh yes, I love her with every fiber of my being

And ever since she came into my world,
I became a child and a clown with a bond.

(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Red orange Delilah

Heaven may see through my corrupt thoughts
And the point where my conscience got burnt...

Until it sees a beauty with grace and elegance
Making a statement; fall or take a chance...

Heaven may erase my name from the book of life
But I await the judgement after my demise

For there is a perspective of sin I have seen
That justifies impermissible carnal sin.

Heaven knows that even immortals
Can't take their stainless eyes off her

Her body configuration do not hide
The amazing workshop where God's craft abide

Heaven knows that her skin is as soft as a wool
Red orange Delilah meant for Samson's Waterloo...

I know in heaven my thoughts are condemned
But with her, I would rather stay as damned.
(C) 2021 Http://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Hazel’s diary: World’s greatest daughter


Staring at an infancy
I could smell her fantasies
And wonders of her dreams,
Walking through the autumn leaves.


With innocence at its peak
Belly laughing, at a trick
When she chuckles, I chuckle
When I guffaw, she guffaws.

She fetches the handkerchief
To dry tears on others cheek
She is a tower of strength
God bless her future friends…

There seems to be so much joy
Watching her pet her own toys
Pampering them like they breath
Dancing to songs and the beats

She reminds me time does flies
Reciting nursery rhymes
Watering flowers in jars
Bringing back the nostalgia.

Her mindset is an atlas
Running around with sparklers
Best part is when she calls me;
“Da.. da.. dad” exhorting me.


She is my first noble prize
More than it meets the eyes….
Of a billion, she chose me
And I like how great it feels.

Like the breeze from the ocean
Cooling soul with such passion
I’m proud to be the father
Of the world’s greatest daughter.

© 2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Lament from tribal marks

Before the mouth produces a sound
Before the tongue would even be heard
I provided details of such nativity…
To tradition; I was its nitty gritty,

Finding my way down torn mortal flesh
Significantly more than scars can fetch
I had varying lines on the leather trace
Birthed from the blades of tribes and race.

I dignified pride, I was the mark of heritage
A healer older than the rock of age
I saved millions of lives from a bloodbath
Although I was also a victim of my own fate

I provided a tribal identification
Until my hosts felt I was an ugly vulture
A cock and bull hovering a cultural based
Disfiguring a supposed beautiful face…

As the night makes way for a new day
My existence gradually fades away
From bodies I gave the warmest embrace
Distinguishing them from another tribe and race.

(C) 2021 http://Vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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