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Praise God

I drank of the cup
In the shelter of my parents
I screw up sometimes
I wimp too sometimes
But I see no reason to forget.

I was led and wired up
I smelt the undefined breathe
Of sins I experienced as health
Though I fight for wealth
I shall not cease to praise God.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Creators Shark

He holds me
And handles me
Like a tea cup.

Trust and obey
The gimmicky
Of loyalty..

From tall towers
I jump onto
His safety hands

He propels my fin,
I am His shark
In the wildest wild.

I have no bladder
Yet buoyancy
In the water.

So don’t tell me
I am deficient
In anything.

For I am
The creators
Swimming Shark.

Miracle and Drug

I took pills
In the clubs
Landed on a bed
Hospital, temples
And Shrines..

The Rabbi sees
Doom and blessings
Taking turns;
But every day
A cell die, one is born.

The medic says
Stomach healing came
From swallow pills
But every four days
Comes a new lining.

Signs and wonders;
But do recovery
Come from prayers
Every twenty eight day
Comes a skin layer.

Now who is right?
Every sixteen
To eighteen month
To a new body
A cell is formed.

The herbalists say
The “Abrakatabra”
Renew the skin,
Yet our body
Is a renewable resource.

Let’s cut the sight,
Right to the chase
Who is right,
Medic, tradition
Or religion?

I’m not saying
There is no God;
Culture and tradition
The body is of God’s
Miracle and drug.

© 2017, ONYECHE VINCENT ONYEKACHUKWU

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The Testimony

Yesterday
I dug a hole
For a clay
To build my home…

My eyes rolled
Till it closed
Then I nod
As I snored

And I fell
Onto the floor
But as I fell
Hell I saw

As my belt
Turned to snake
And I felt
Blank and grey.

From my head
Fell a crown
My tongue bled
Turn to brown

All my parts
Became heavy
Expanding
To its limits

In a bit;
I was a bunch
Of glamour beads
Ripped in pieces.

Beads scatterth
Yet increaseth
Each bounced
Several rounds

Bringing forth
Another bead;
An hybrid bread
And a stronger me.

Image from google
Poem by ©Onyeche Vincent Onyechukwu
©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com

So incomplete

Tell me of what purpose
Is a neck without a head
Or a head without a game
Or chess game without a king
Or a king without a throne
Or a throne without subjects
Or subjects without a face
Or a face without a teeth
Or a teeth without a mouth
Or a mouth without a tongue
Or a tongue without a taste
Or a taste without judgement
Or judgements by the moon-blind

What use is moon without Sun
Or the Sun without the light
Or the light without the heat
Or the heat without the cold
Or the cold without a breeze
Or the breeze without the chill
Or the chill without a road
Or the road without a path
Or the path leading no where
Or a crowded place yet empty
And no world, yet with round fences
Without you things make no sense
With a sense so incomplete.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
© Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Photograph Sourced from artfido on instagram

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