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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

Wonderful Vincent

Around me, there is this solace like a twilight
With intensity like the tropical Sunlight

When I am down, I believe a break of dawn
Would spring forth through the paths my faith has drawn

I believe tomorrow is as beautiful as the stars
Whether the unsaved tears never dries from my eyes

Challenges are mischievous like Satan’s storm fart
But it carves me, into a wonderful piece of art.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Secrets of sprinklers

Watch the company you keep
Sweep fairweather if you can
Let go of an excess weight
Appreciate every wingspan.

Like an iron and the magnets,
Carrots and the rabbits
Attract what wouldn’t pretend
Or hide facts, that your face has dirts.

Most times it isn’t the nudity
But fecundity by another,
Fecundity as in creativity
And ability to grow together.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Avoid me

Please stay clear away from me
There are clouds following me
Dark and heavy, whirl and wild.

To the round drawing table
Back I go, when I tumble
Yet I fumble more and more.

Heaven joined, to renounce
Driving me into doghouse
Left to my own devices…

When I fail, I cry and try
But the tears refuse dry
Flushing me back into hell

I no longer take a chance
Since mountain labor gave mouse
As outcome each time I climb

Life has reduced me to tears
People too good, are my fears
So stay clear; away from me.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Hazel’s Diary: Five Months gone

Sweet Hazel
Daddy’s first girl

Precious heart
God’s perfect art

Greased with oil
Made to allure.

Achilles’s heel
You are to me

Give me five!
Well done my child.

As you crawl
To penny drops

Learn more tricks
Each time you blink…

Five months are gone
Since you were born

You still rock
In all your socks…

Still giggling
And still sucking

Keep growing
And keep glowing

Dad loves you more
Forevermore.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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

A shot in the dark

I wish I could get to the end of the space
Lean by its edge; seeing all, right on my face,
Not just the stars and rocks, but to visualize
All the possibilities life can realize…

Maybe I would realize things wide off the mark
And not by blind faith nor whistles in the dark
Aside religions are there aliens up there
Or is it only tailored here on this sphere?

I stay rooted on earth, but I smell a rat
Though imaginary but it is a fact
For answers to be gotten, the end of space
Would have an interpretation of our faith.

But my fate wouldn’t take me to space to smell
The rum, raspberry, gunpowder and steak seared,
Nor unravel the mystery of darkness,
Light’s untold purpose and everything else.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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

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

When I was a kid

When I was a kid, I was a kid
Like every other, I had my mischiefs

I soiled myself building mud hills
I placed my fingers in the till

At some point, I picked meat from the pot
Rubbing evidence on my white shirt

Shameful as it is I did bed wet
I told white lies, nodding my head

From mum, I hid wounds without delay
When I bruise my knee from a rough play

Time for silence were my moments
Disturbance seemed to be my talent

Most times from an innovation
It all ended up in destructions

From nothing I still created fields
I jumped down from trees with other kids

I saw things as a piece of cake
Like climbing mountains and swimming lakes

Most times I hate seeking for help
My energy sprung in its own step

When I was a kid, I was a kid!
Now I am a dad, watching my kid.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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