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Category Archives: Aesthetic

Womb Prose: Kicking bumps

I love to feel your kicking limbs
There goes my hands, to hold and climb
I will like to know what you think
I love you dearly, let it sink..

I bet your world is full of thrills
Worry not of the future bills,
I do not mind looking unkempt
Just to make sure, you are alright.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Vanquished brutally

The riches of the world, makes me humble
Yet, a new week brings a new fumble;
No way out for the candle in the wind
Finally, my village people wins.

Thought I had substance, till devil prized me
Sheepishly am rigid up to my kneels
Standing like a tree blown fiercely by storms
It seems like, my village people won.

In hot pan but the wax refuse to melt
Obviously most wax gained many regrets
No way out for the candle in the wind
Finally, my village people wins.

The battle is lost in eyes of soldiers
Hence, I often look over my shoulders
Standing like a tree blown fiercely by storms
It seems like, my village people won.

Inside me rage builds ready to explode
Heavy heart, yet loads comes in like a flood
Sticking like a glue, blowing like a storm
It seems like, my village people won.

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

Perfect combination

When the wind whirls, everything unfreezes
Easy like; a, b, c… one, two, three…
Underneath the tranquil sky so blue
The rain showers then two birds flew
From separate spaces finding shelter
Or a spot where droplets don’t bother.

Singing sweet songs that is far from grief
The melanin hid under green leaf
Like it was predestined, fine and raw,
They met by chance, and fell deep in love
It must be the wind; maybe the rain
That matched them up; some people will say.

Certainly, the wind made it fonder
While the raindrops, wiped off all blunders
Birthing a clean slate of obsession
Nurturing new sets of emotion
Great as the black beautiful look
Blessings they got on each other’s hook.

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

The strength of hope

Surrounded by the energies of negativity,
Emerging with a great charge of positivity
Even in a stinky dung or in a deep coma
The smell of hope has a pleasant aroma

At first, you sniff more than you should
Until you surrender your mighty taste buds
Even with logically evidence flying around
A lot of people will make discouraging sounds

But hope will stick with a great satisfaction
Giving the mind an awesome gratification,
Even the far fetched triumph is motivating
Creating that crazy sense of well-being.

Obviously, hope is that not everyone fancy
Many at times it is seen as complacency…
Even when it fixes a million wears and tears
Just because it is empty, they look elsewhere

No matter what may be on the other table
Hope makes man’s wants and needs; satiable
Even when doubts critic contentment
Hope seals all until success cement it.

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

My last cure

Dam by my morals
Scared of historic rials
My last cure is called hope
It kept me from suicide notes

I had sprouted huge detest
Fighting life with my breathe
And anything I could throw
So wedges could, let me roll…

You may ask, why am hurt
And why I can’t let it rot
Truth is, hopes have no bends
Am never bored on its bed.

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

Salvaging waterfalls

I have come to learn a whole lot
bubbling inside my favorite pot.
First, the steep descents of rivers
are breathtaking; yet, a disaster…
Same stream we dive into and swim
can swallow us even while we scream.

All of tides are connected to the moon
Gravity dines, with a bigger spoon.
Like everyone the water is scared too
Curiosity, some times takes us through
While other times, it worsen things
Freedom to a river is a pipe dream.

Floating so fine like shuck oysters
Flowing against tides birth disasters
So whenever the river takes you down
Please hate it not even as you frown
All it is doing is guide and salvage
its speculative battle with waves.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Secrets to reaching grey

My best advice to every man
Is never to ever lose an arm
These days trousers cut across genders
Struggling to fulfill agendas

My best advice to every man
Is never to ever lose an arm
This arm is not the anatomy
Neither the spans and weaponry

My best advice to every man
Is never to ever lose an arm
In strength and support rendered
By love, family and friends

They are the might in an entity
Fused as power of longevity
My best advice to every man
Is never to ever lose an arm.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Never stop dreaming

Experience is not hermaphrodite
Knowledge in youth is wisdom at old
Who fathers wit, if experience
Is the mother of wisdom ?

Every giant has a building block,
Millions of sands under the rocks
Certain adages are just headlines
Not all eggs laid are fertilized,

Skills are safer when developed
Attempts and experiences tie knots
To become indispensable
Without them, wisdom is stillborn.

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

Sentimentalism

No man owns the great soil we stand
But our bloods are shed on this land
Skulls we count brings hatred to mind
North, South, East and West pick hand.

The golden ball is on your court
Wonder why it is difficult ?
The tender feelings never die
Nostalgia continues to fly.

Brains build an evil monument
One bad thing about sentiment
Is that she writes an alibi
Defending her all actions and

Those of her tribes, sisters, brothers,
Dad and mum, sons and her daughters
Whether they are guilty or not
Exculpation she drops alot.

We all have narratives to share
But do we have to destroy selves
When an atom of peace and love
Would give unity strengthen globe.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Synecdoche of Current page

The shadows we run from helps us turn
The inherent aptitude, from page to page.

Writing books with no table of content
Just preface gotten from the naming days,

No human can take back the hands of time;
The characters in here are none frictions.

Grey and shadows are our awaiting shelves
Forever young is a pie in the sky.

In life we live, we Author our own book
Writing our own stories on mortal sheets.

Current page is at times the worst page of our books
Though at times, not the case, for those on top the world.

Every day a page turns for next chapter to come
No Author knows the end of his story.

The shadows we run from lives by the grey
An inherent aptitude in our books.

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

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