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vamoose

From an elusive concept
Of an abusive romance
I prefer clean pairs of shoes
Shown, than the blood from a fool.

How they both had butterflies
In their stomachs, I know not
But from afar I saw lights
And its sparkles shined so bright.

Coming from hearts, with just flight
And hormones that felt alright…
Now the sparks comes from the files
Sharpening blades of their knives

While those hormones excited
Are great sadists by neglects,
“I hate you” they now recite
Picking bruises, all day and night

Ring that binds can be untied
So walk out, for sake of life
There are an unending lists
Of late plebs, who stayed in it

People smile and giggle too
In same love that involves two
Kindly show clean pairs of shoes
You deserve happiness too.

(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Beclouded rose

Starring in the roles of ecstasies
Are bewitching flowers from precious trees
That exists in the sacred rhapsodies
Of fickle hearts catching pitter-patter,
From the styles and stigmas that deters
Immortals from grace as they pander.

This very pedal has an inner beauty
That conforms not with confidentiality
Instead her fragrance, in high velocity
Make the honeycombs to never run dry
As it willingly dispenses cravings into beehives
Transmitting signals stamen long to have.

This flower is configured to shine and rule
Her pride rests on her own receptacle
She’s beauty personified, yes it’s true
Like Aphrodite’s in reincarnation
Stretching back from time of creation
Till now, none can compete with her perfection

Aside the artifact in the treasure chest
Inside the ecstasy, she appears stainless,
Big and soft, classy and simple, yet complex
As her shadow, I’ve seen her naked by the mirror
Intently conceiving herself a pure allure
Whereas outside the illusion she has many scars and errors.


© 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Indescribable

Outcomes of our fall,
Has an open door
Coming from a war
We may tag as life,
Fighting for our lives
Gaining dust for ranks.

Scythe or by broom
People still presume
We roam in their rooms
When we turn to ghosts
Whose breath cease to fit
While the maggots eat.

People think we see,
Walk and always feel
All they tag as real…
Could it be an end
Or a sort of bend
To a whole new blend?

Death breeds afterlife
We were once alive
To say otherwise
Now we are the myths
That are real or not
Until shadows exit…

On this battlefield
Life is short indeed
Silence is the shield
Separating lines
Yes, none can describe
What death may look like.

©2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Scythe of fate

Another day, another breath
Of not waking up in the depths
Sometimes I scream inside my tent
Waking up from the blanks of rest

Another day, another breath
Of not waking up in the depths
From the voids that cause me to shed
It all seems like I lose my head;

Another day, another breath
Of not waking up in the depths
Wondering what it would be like
In total void away from life…

Another day, another breath
Of not waking up in the depths
Within my faith there is despair
Lying next to my greatest fear

Another day, another breath
Of not waking up in the depths
Transparent yet still not clear
One day I would be missing here…

Another day, another breath
Of not waking up in the depths
Trees may fall, the leaves may dry
I heard that, the soul never dies

Another day, another breath
Of not waking up in the depths
Wondering if soul is a myth
Created to ease the scythe of fate.

(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Tears in all I have seen


I have seen flags
Raised in borders
I have seen tapes
Encroaching lines…

The words I heard
Carried by winds
Came in varied
In tones and tongues…

I have heard truths
Subdued by lies
Carried my both
Adults and youths

I have seen blood
From veins and genes
I have seen guns
I have seen dust…

I have seen flesh
The thick and soft
I have seen swords
Slice them like breads…

I have seen heat
I have seen snows
I have seen rains
Flush away souls

I have seen birds
Creating nest
I have seen jets
Shredding their eggs

I have seen shells
Emptied on lands
I have seen bombs
Drop from the sky

I have seen girls
I have seen boys
Become friends
Sometimes strangers

I have seen parts
Of bodies reaped
I have seen legs
Opened and raped…

I have seen things
Awful and weird
I have seen moon
Subdued by light

I have seen books
Termed as Holy
Read by same folks
Killing for God

I have seen riots
I have seen flames
I have seen tears
Drip from pillows

I have seen men
Enjoying war…
It never ends
It just replays

From tradition
And geo regions
To religions
And possessions

Strangely, it is
The common thing
That bonds men that
Tears them apart

And it worsens…
By every dawn
And sunsets of
Generations…

I wish I could
From the comfort
Of my bedroom
Fix the whole world

Turn things a new
But I am part
Of the problem
Destroying earth.
(C) 2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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

Goodbye 2020

Like the dogs do howl
Mourning, gazing at the sky
I weep, waiting for a new year
Hoping it ends the fear…
It is not that I am scared
But I am really scared
I just want this year
To come to an end.

Lungs are gasping,
Caskets were selling,
Antisocial, a new norm
So humanity don’t disappear
I am not scared
I am not scared
I just want this year
To come to an end.

The untraceable chuckles
From muted giggles
Made goose bumps to find
Its way all over my skin
I am not scared
I am not scared
I just want this year
To come to an end.

This year has left a mark
Aside being in the dark
Lockdown and deprived.
…Who can boast of not
Being “really” terrified?
Would next year be worst?
I just want this year
To come to an end.

Tears burst through
Like a million worms
Crawling out so fast
Like lightening
From every pores
I am not scared
I just want this year
To come to an end.

Amidst the confusion
Came the massacre
Of underdogs protesting,
Demanding justice
From the fat lying pigs
Who unleashed the dragons
When all they wanted; was,
Injustice to come to an end.

In it, new kids were born
Yet the whirling mischief
From the blind bats and pigs
Threatens to spread forth
As a second wave
I am not scared
I just want this year
To come to an end.

Inside my head plays
So many uplifting songs
Each time the pandemic
Comes as a comical music
I am not scared
I am not scared
I just can’t wait for 12am
To scream: “happy new year!!!

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

Baboon’s wishful thinking

Innovators develop creature’s comfort
Yet no mortal can physically go out of itself
Like bare bodies stripping off its clothes
In deed, ghosted eyes would never have closed.

I wish the Creator was kind on my kind
So we can jump off into any flesh we find
We are monkeys, and not spirits being
Don’t blame us for dying over such a thing.

The Creator’s support carries weight
But I guess He had ran through all the stakes
Knowing that I am so beautiful
Just the way I am…. not beautiful.

(C) 2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

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
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