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Existing in a movie
Staying a bit longer, to me is no more
Since sands turned to bloods on the floor
Somebody, anybody come save me
Save me from the collapsing hill
Sadly, every single dream I had is dead
Several years gone, yet suspense refused to end
Save me from a timeframe so unreal
Scan me to find tears filled to the brim
She is dying yet they see muse and thrills
Seamless are the pieces around her fallen tree
Silly politicians enjoy the role they play
Squandering the sands of her broken clay
Stupidly, they all seem to know no shame
Somebody ought to feel concerned of her dying name
She is Nigeria, drowning across all ages
Surprisingly, she doubts if she can be saved
Since snakes swallowed elephant in her script
Seriously, I wait to hear the director outside the script,
Screaming “cut!!!” in my lifetime otherwise,
Something in me will regret wasteful cries
Soiling the soil and suffering as a fictional character…..
Swimming in false hope she will get better.
(C) 2021 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Nigeria: The prohibited Area
Niger and Benue rivers are flowing
But the tidal waves within are not helping
Reasons uncountable boats are cap-sided
While searching for liberty or daily bread.
Ever since two parallel lines are meeting
Democracy lost it actual meaning
In a once-upon-a-time great kingdom
Where the mighty Eagle once had freedom.
From a distance she stares at the cage
Of which she is locked within to engage
In arguments of distracting topics
While politicians desecrate the pride of the tropics.
In Politics, nothing seems to be working
Aside illegalities and thuggeries
Priding on wings in prohibited areas
They chopped off, acquiring more honoraria
They are the dirt, same-time the broom
Looting and misleading the land to doom
Seemingly, they are keen to uprooted roots
Extinguishing sparks and killing truth…
Definitely, there ought to be a way
Out of this cage, either at night or day
It has never been placing a foot in front
Rather, we who are manned to shoot ourselves on sight.
(C) 2021 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Nigeria at its low
Don’t tell me we are leaders of tomorrow
Whereas we have been compelled to burrow
And wallow in the deep of our shameful sorrow
I am just furious at unrepentant blunders
And the drying river of hope makes me ponder
If tears can be de-escalated to natural order
The unchanging mindset of the masses is a killer
Especially the youths wedging bullets and pulling triggers
For the same old pricks re-elected as leaders
My loathe is against footprints in sands of time
Welded with tribal trolls, and looting dimes
From the mortgaged future of you and I.
I am against shrinkage, positive growth is my stands
But decay and recession has eaten up my land
Yet we fail to comprehend what is at hand
I feel the anthem has skeptical stanzas
If the lyricists of 1978 calls, I may not answer
Get it, I am no rebel, I just need things to get better.
(C) 2021 http://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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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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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?
©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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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.
