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In the hands of the pigs
Down the streets, I see fierce men in blacks
Throwing punches and spraying bullets back
On both the dead guilty and the innocent
From such grief no man becomes a saint…
Down the streets, I pass everyday
There are a lot my eyes see and lips can’t say
If I were to write, I will run out of pages
It has been on since the rock of ages…
I see torn rags, I see fat pigs, I see hawks
I see ugly vultures perking clean rotten foods
I see little ants queueing for shrunken and fat pigs
Though most times the results are rigged…
At the other end where the grasses are green
I see different faces but the same within
For as they wear the authority band
The little ants and gullible expect a hand
A helping hand, but the route to end injustice,
Alongside corruption and malpractice
Causing sufferings to large extent
And institutionalized Government,
Making every under the roof look so dumb
As well as embezzlements in all forms,
Are the same routes fat pigs themselves pass
On a regularly on their way flying first class.
©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Are we actually independent?
We are celebrating sixty,
Yet there are no basic amenities,
Nigeria!! In her house is where I grew up,
Everyday she worsens, I am fed up.
Actually, not that I am fed up
Loving my Nation but individuals
And their never sustaining mentality
Killing the fishes till streams are empty…
Things fall apart, and when the center holds
They personally force the head and tails
To think and act in total disunity;
So her future would turn ashes on the tray.
I am fed up on individuals and how they feel
Nonchalant, not paying utility bills
Whether things are epileptic
Or functional as they seek..
I am fed up on every individual
Who live their lifespan as bandits,
Cheats, acting like an ugly vulture
Disturbing the peace of the Nation.
I am fed up on the recycling leaders
Who take turns enriching their selves
At the expense of the masses
Who are not skipping corruption classes.
©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Beautiful Zombies
In two shakes of a dog’s tail
The weather changes, so they say
With raindrops that are rubied
Rolling from bunch of zombies
Staggering down in the street
Possessing all that they meet
Conspiracies all sprung up
As a norm we all adopt.
Decent ones in the city
Soon became filthy dirty
Devils and trolls we hired
Became woods in our fire
The blacks and whites not like us
We destroy with sticks and rods
When the infants starts to creep
We shoot them right from our hips
Yet with our scary wild eyes
We still hunt the tranquil ice
And not until we change our views
The zombies are all but good.
(C) 2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Politics: The egg on my face
I am a victim of multiple rapes
By youths and spring chickens hoarding grapes
They drill me deep in the streets for long lengths
Way before I got to age of consent
Now I am used to the egg on my face
Hence I never do run when I am chased
They shag my matrix and bruised my knees
Reopening the sores that tried to heal;
I am a victim of multiple rapes
By the dirty piggies that call my name
Don’t go to the zoo in search of them
Don’t go to the bush in search of them
Don’t go looking for flat snouts, small eyes
And large ears, within us they all reside
Appearing often on televisions
Looking at the world, without a vision.
©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Politics: The city hall
The rate of fresh blood is overwhelming
With enthusiasms always rising
While the toddlers grow to have wisdom teeth
The city hall in power never fleets.
It is not just the strange bedfellows
Neither the dirt part that always follow
But it is the impunity they have
Siphoning our resources while they serve.
Youthfulness is there to always savour
Although we have numbers in our favor
We just can never fight the city hall
Because they plant discord between us.
©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Politics: Seeking leadership
In these dark days,
When hell is winning
Cuckoos in the nests
Are so unruly,
We need good leaders
To transform the stage
And leopard’s spots
That never does change.
©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Running from foreigners and our politicians.
In the eyes of the world, we are so weak
Residing in a home where the roof leaks
Quenching taste with droplets from the ceilings
Instead of walking straight down to the stream.
In the eyes of the world, we are stupid
To dwell in the Nations of growth impedes
Whose flowers may never come into bloom
Residing in this very crooked home.
In the eyes of the world, they have it all
To unlock and walk through front and back doors
Making us turn to green around the gills
By mischiefs of experimental pills…
In the eyes of the world, we should break up
But we decided to stay away from storm in teacups
That has subdued us into cats caught tongues
And made us dead in the souls we belong.
©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Politics: Copycatting wrongly
Bad is never good until worst happens
We giraffe the leaders of the free world
Whose envisages were made to happen
By choosing humanity over swords.
We have failed to make our system rock
Yet, when we hear of a new discovery
We emulate it but it never works
It seems bad is where we derive glory.
The strength of our weakness lingers long
Abusing privileges on the table
Defining quintessence as being wrong
Bailing evil and misusing gavels.
©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Politics: Let’s face the fact
The origin of inhumanity
And its verified etymology
Is a distraction and contradiction
To the essence of true democracy….
…Hey!!! Enough of those jaw breaking grammars.
Just like the case, of an ugly monkey
And as a mother always love her kids,
I am so compelled to love my Nation
Yet she keeps splashing raw eggs on my face
Saying; “you can’t do more than died rats”.
Each time she does that, a rebel is born
Bad is never good till the worst happens
Of course, Rome wasn’t built in a day, but
The envisaged came from the same kitchen
That shortchanged silver spoons without a spoon.
Fear the men of oaths than those holding guns
They are the sheep outside, but wolves within
Playing, “the more you look, the less you see”
It seems that politics is never clean
More growth, the deeper the sink in the sea.
Ask no questions of egg and the chicken
When both bold and shy crates are empty
And plates have never been graced by proteins;
Politicians meant to serve the people
And not for their self enriching pockets.
©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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The politicians
There is a deep dark hole
That swallows shrinking souls
This dark hole is manmade
And the arts never fades.
Wish truth could be embroiled
And service be recoiled
So promises could come true
For the sky to stay blue.
But dead are the chariots
And Angels before us.
The champagne births an ace
Even with a smooth face
But long legs always win
And many are turned in
Enjoying pool of blood
Slitting throats with sharp swords
Sharing sweats, drinking tea
Blind indeed is justice.
