Category Archives: religion

Closed book

Am I the only one in an unspeakable scruple?
Abducting are my faith in praying mountains
Asking questions of many uncertainties.

Signs of end times are manifesting
Same phrase in the ice and stony age
Spinning spontaneously along the twenties.

Patience is now a collapsing mountain
Pro-rata; many gone waiting; please forgive me
Pardon my forsaken sincere curiosity

Avail me answers to these spiritual confusions
Are we left on earth to flourish or perish?
Are we alone in individual trance of existence?

Without Him coming, just our beguiling self-esteem
Waking up to never; when we kick buckets;
Wandering around the charms of a closed book

Yet sleeping in conundrum and enigma of breath
You pretentious humans know what I am saying,
Yahweh please! Open the book for the bigots.

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

Haiku: Who made God

We pray; even preach
Yet, we can not clearly pitch
Who made Supreme beings.

© 2019 Http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Speak directly

Have you ever asked questions
Pertaining your expeditions
Down the paths of religions,
Cultures and traditions ?

Do I believe in a Creator?
Yes I do, but I need a mentor
To prove flames and perceive odours
Oozing through these many doors.

My kneels falls on the floor
Sometimes am lost on its tour
Finding a true faithful shore
But I lie, am filled with His gore,

Taking momentum to ceilings
Expecting extra feelings
After a pool of baptism,
I go speaking in tongues

Acting or not; miracle pours
But I doubt and expect more
More to show, like visible dews
We are many, sadly it is true.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Thorny Christmas trees

Jiggle bells
Days like this
I turn cold
Seeing leaves
Tall; short trees.

Jiggle bells
On each branch
I see crowns
Made of thorns
Round His head.

Jiggle bells
Cross from woods
Woods from trees
Trees of thorns
An irony.

Jiggle bells
I detest
Decorated
Leafy trees
At his birth

Jiggle bells
Do you know
He was hung
On naked tree
Till he ghost.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Caught in the middle

One tunnel, two ends with so many bends
And piercing needles, caught in the middle
Where each of them say; theirs is the right way.

Joy and bridle, religion they fiddle
With bends of believes and needles of grieves
In tunnel called earth, two ends; life and death.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Dear Child; work and pray

Dews can be the sweats
Dropping from the efforts
Put into a plan
Or it could be God’s plan

When the leaves are all
About to dry, and fall
There comes a tiny fog
Keeping it wet, for long….

Trees that hide in shades
Are those that gets short changed.
Dear child, look outside
For results search and find.

I know you are good
At the things that you do;
But, pray that the dews
Will always fall on you.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Lament of a creator

I created a ball around orbits
Different points varied in heat
Also, by cold; on same region
I placed two folks, opposite sex
Same skin, same hairs and I was served…

But their children, explored the ball
And lost in touch of their parents
And that they thought on origin.
Each that settled on vary spots
Was changed by cold and toned by heat.

They all forgot the one language
Of peace, and love their parents spoke
And they called me different names.
As their roots changed, did their believes
Now my image has many names.

They oppress different linguist
They shove themselves for tradition
They fight themselves hurting sisters
Killing brothers all in my names
And the culture they even lost.

If they understood, that there is
A common link and origin
They would not fight, but who would learn
Or listen to my loud thunder cry
And feel my sorrow when it rains…

Even when I tell then, the blunt truth
On origin of tribes, and the strides
That brought about different skins,
Hairs, languages and religions
They will still call me a fake god.

Whereas I am still the creator
And they, the product of my hands
Who prefer to use my name but
Searching for me they throw me out
When they get close to finding me.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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