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Last night’s flame
So high and loud were the screams
At the point of confusion
Many would wish the tension
Was another scary dream.
None cared about documents
The snails became good runners
The chubbies flew like feathers
Choosing breath over wealth.
Dead were the words, wait or freeze
No one cared about naked breasts
Nor for the other ragged dress;
Some forgot their tender kids.
It was dark, though not past ten
At large, no shoes and no socks
So did those with age of rocks
The sick borrowed extra legs.
Gate was slammed with great intense
Multitudes flee from Estate
Leaving the block to its fate
No remorse, and no conscience.
A potential disaster
More than the Devil can chew
Over the roof the fire grew
Even the kids were sprinters
Who wouldn’t run when co-tenant
Whose roof feared to be burning
Were seen halter-scattering
To anywhere but not their tent.
From the point eyes made a frame
No hero nor firefighters
No sands, nor extinguishers
Could put off such thick dark flame.
The overwhelming stampede
Was more like defeat concede
And you wouldn’t comprehend
The things running in our heads.
It wasn’t our blocks on fire,
To send fire in particles
From our harbors and vessels
Aided by winds, fuel and tires.
Approaching the burning flame
Were only a few of us
Whose bravery I didn’t trust
We discovered in our shame….
That accross the estate’s fence
A tall tree, and not the roof
Was on fire, putting it off,
We laughed; but it was intense.
(c) 2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Thanks to all philanthropists
A special thank you to all philanthropists
From east to west and north to south;
Up the sky; freely the littlest of birds fly
In such sweet serenity before the eyes
We envied their liberty and less worries
Until we became the characters in such stories.
At different stages, challenges comes in different forms
What we make of it matters, as either sadness or fun,
You see these tears, it falls from every eyes
But honestly, if the rich also cry
For the poor, what is there to live for?
A question we asked several times before.
Then our ghetto dirty lives were a truck load of pain
And death a tranquilizer, our wretched breath gain
Even in urban, death is a debt breath pays afterwards
Hence, the street we chose to suffering in this world
On a platter of gold, by you we were served and saved
We owe you our lives and everything we have.
Growing up, we thought of you as some kind of god,
And a creator, redesigning the whole wide world
Eradicating hunger, pains, sorrows, poverty
Sufferings and all forms of deformities.
If only this crazy world had more of you
Sufferings would have been a term we had no clue…
It was right at the junction of lost hope,
Where we had chosen an elevated floor and a rope
And just after tearily reciting our last prayer
Out of the blues came your pull by our shoulders,
From the rose flowers, you pulled out the thorns
Giving us a million more reasons to carry on.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Hazel’s Diary: Don’t be scared of the dark
You are our muse, the splendid joy we bear
Caught up in our lives, the love is crystal clear
Before now, to you darkness was never frightening
Neither did you wake up crying over nothing.
Where did you learn to be this scared
I have a message for you… Dear Hazel,
“…If shadows spread tall and wide over at night
It doesn’t mean that it will forever remain like that
Darkest hour is always before the dawn
A spring eternal is how your hope should be drawn
Walk up to us from your room to the parlour
We are your knights in shinning armors
The adage, “Light at the end of the tunnel” is true
And it all begins deep down from you
Laugh and the world would laugh with you
Cry not my dear, all that we got is you.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Hazel’s diary: Hazel you are blessed!
The things you exhibit at this tender age
Would make the world read you page by page
Beauty with brain, a perfect combination
Coupled with your drive and determination
Growing up awesomely is a must
But know that adulthood has its storms
And the blood running through you will see you through;
For we are great achievers, winning is all we do…
Some goals may appear as a blurry mirage
But believing is the secret for success to emerge
And all about rightly developing yourself
Learning from the past and future shelves
In this fast growing world with craves and tastes
Worry not, just be yourself by default you are the best.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Blurt out
Let the pages fly and spread their wings
Let my spilled inks make millions to think
It is plain and simple, hope it sinks
“All man has his fault”, the song I sing…
Some make angels to cry a river
Wrecking the cake not worth the candle,
I have made words fly off the handle
Like bullets from a trigger finger.
I have made unspeakable remarks
Awful, but to some I am proud of
Like daring heads and shoulders above
To stop picking paper over cracks…
On a wrong foot I might have stood firm
I am sorry it was all my fault
In life, there are few things I regret
But not the words blurted out in poems.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Resolving love conflict
Simple or made into an Elf
What is music to a born deaf?
Same question goes without tongues
Pot or Chef, who spoilt the stock?
What are perfumes without nostrils
Even when fragrance grow on trees
The soft wool would be seen as steel
If all senses had no way to feel.
Like bakers bake flours into cakes
Water seeds, love is give and take
With all of you, you should both love
Not one-sided, with push and shove
Pay concern to passion and needs
Dancing together to your hymns
Storms and rainbows demystified
Harmonise hearts, love is blind.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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The masses are also the problem
It is no news that the pigs are fat
As a result of the embezzlements
Taking politics as a personal farm
Eating from the labors of the ants…
I haven’t crossed the shores for sure
But I will place a bet, that wouldn’t fret
Or retract, having seen Eagles crawl
Passing piggery genes unto eaglets.
Accustomed to suffering and smiling
Whereas they hold the key to end the pains
Instead, they chose, fixing and buying
Assets for pigs to whom bills and taxes are paid.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Let’s not go back to 2020
There was blood between two greens,
After the peace and unity disagreed
The young bloods came out singing
With purpose as they were marching.
The birds hummed promises to fix the error
Yet they changed the name “error” to “terror”
Was it that, the protest had no direction?
Or was it just another, pull them down syndrome?
Answers came from centres that began to tear
Forming thick black fumes in the air
As properties and structures were set ablaze
Insane it was, seeing anyone truly amazed.
Many young bloods came out stretching their claws
In a once peaceful protest turned to war…
Lost was the hope that was left
After the trained turtles sprayed bullets.
Indeed tempos arose, in all directions
The birds announced there would be sanctions
But the rage of terror never ceased
Into the streets, more turtles were lunched
To calm things down, and maybe to shoot again…
In all, the greens and white were in pains
Seeing their characters loss global integrity
As the pawns were out absolutely in disunity
Those who had, and had nothing to lose brought knives
And most behaved like they had nine lives
Beheaded, but survived the many lies
From the birds, who sang, “no pawn ever died”
Politicians are all the same over the world
But for humanity we ought to build great walls
With peace and progress, yet we take a wrong path
Whereas just two Kings in chessboard is a still mate.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Dire straits
In the jungle I am told never to rush,
I am told to always take things slow,
Before my eyes, I miss so much,
Yet, I am compelled to let them go
That if they were truly mine,
Back to me, they will always find…
I have never been really fine
Not taking courage in both hands
Outcome has been wide off the mark
Being civil and gentle truly fits
But I have nothing, when unpacked
Aside grasses growing under my feet.
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Nigeria: Northeast Terrorists
You have a lot to answer
For rampage of another
Forcing kids to wear the kits
Of rapes, kidnaps and the slits.
Coldblooded!! because you can…
No one man, has a lifespan
To forever breath on earth,
Conscience ought to be the girth
Holding firm the human race
But you’ve chosen to misplace
Priority for your gain
Like you are some hurricane
Destroying anything you touch,
Those that survive use a crutch….
What do you gain taking turns
When watched kettle never boils?
