Category Archives: Aesthetic

Filling station

At the filling station,
White and black smoke
Attempts to make us choke

Rims kept spinning around
Heading to where hush sound
The birds sang, horns buzz

Insane walked free, sane squeeze
Queuing, suddenly saying bye
Seconds pass, others passed by

Young and old breath trooped in
For all sort of tanks refill
All colors present blended as one

Underneath the dark light
Where canopies made a shade
No man or woman had a blade

‘Buy my own, buy from me please
Many screamed, for hustle to ease
Some were smiling, others worried

But kept drinking and eating
Off the pocket for the items
They purchased, for desires

No apartheid, no damn favor
The doubled woman and working men
Sweat in pain for reward of labor

No one brought out divine crosses
Or craving ivory yet salvation
Lived in peace, with no bruises

Far beyond visible tribal marks
Two things we all had in common
Was to live and earn, as an atom.

Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Angry ghost

Don’t say I am an abominable man
If I die by the swords of an evil man
Dust I return, as an evil ghost reborn

I shall be deaf and blind to buried hatchets
While I torment his lineage with kicking buckets
Until his quickest mileage becomes a casket

I shall love the coward’s crown saved
Cast me not out, I am not a brave
Who believes in the act of forgiveness.

Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu


This life is a
Smiling dustman

Collecting dust
On a lifespan

It is hard to
Worry these days

All on a gaze
Shall one day fade

Therefore, tell me
What pains to see

When my soft skin
No longer feels

In such a time
Of tomorrow

When I have paid
The debts I owe

This life is a
Smiling dustman

Collecting dust
On a lifespan

Melting a must
To all that frost

Made from the dust,
Returns to dust.

©2018 Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Dying enthusiasm

Zero multiplies all on my histogram
I wish to know; am I still human?

Yes I breath, and still feel my arm
But tubers are me and no longer yam

I have a house that is not my home
I lay on irons which are but my foam

Stiffness is gathering in my genome
And all forms of excitement has become

…..A trailer load of caring spasms
Pleasure no longer comes with orgasms

Not necessarily frown but swings and springs
From a decline and dying enthusiasm

So if you are one that feel concern
Not necessarily for falling faces in exam

Or for not having to wear a crown
I am indeed very sorry for who I am.

Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Nigeria: Cycle of politicians

Hello pigs and Bunche
We all need to launch
And ascend places much
Better than broken clutches.

Our Nation crashes
At the blink of the lashes
And bad diets from trash
Popping from campaign brush.

The more we look; less we see
Soon as you win, you flush
And retract, by being hush
Falsely feeding our brains,

Desire to push for lunch
Still turns us to staunch
Politicians and fresh
Burnt meat in the bush.

Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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