Category Archives: Aesthetic

My casket

Let all my stories be told
In an unedited episode

I seek truth in an abode
I have stepped on many toed

When I go, don’t smooth a toad
My senses go, but not my bode.

Lay me calm while I offload
Earthly pies microbes to feed…

Hence death, I paid all I owed
Don’t let my soul be sold

Lay me down in simple fold
It mustn’t be best hole or field

Nor color be bright and bold
Silver, bronze or made of gold

As long as the casket can hold
All to home, my gentle mould

Here have been, and breathe I found
And lost it, along life’s road

If I die please make my bed
With clean sheet for rest not cold.

© 2017
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu



The freshness of Shea butter
Is joyful as a River
A worn and a broken heart
Can only be healed by trust.

Autumn summer winter fall
Bridges of love never falls
The moment heart gains trust
Uncoated irons cease to rust.

© 2017
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sonnet: Old wives tale

Theme: Female & Menstrual cycle

Title: Old wives taleForm: SonnetAuthor: Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The full moon comes in days
Believe the old wives tales
When torsos begins to change
Why books preview opens a page
Chapter by chapter, earn its wage
Red rivers flows to reach its gauge
As the moon expands in range.

Old cramps in no time, fade away
Good use, be made before the spray
Zodiacs starts to gamble and pray
For a nice chance to come their way
But she skips in avoidance of play;
The reds gushing from the birth cave
Are nonexistence death to say.

Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Macbeth’s fall

Macbeth was someone I liked
Aspiring with magic wand
He sat on a stolen throne,
Surrounded by magnetic field
That turned him into a clown
So he renews charms as shield
Gushing tears in clan and crown.

Macbeth was someone I liked
Dukes were safe, until they found
Blood and guts, with tears that rust
In heart of unending greed
Ambitious like sauce so sweet
Replacing seeds with wild weed
Yet clans yell, all hail Macbeth.

Macbeth was someone I liked
Karma couldn’t just be blind
But recreate tragic event
On the royal staff and ward
So the golden forces retract
From black owls center bred
That was when; things fell apart.

Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Harmattan haze

With the scorching sun roast
Wave brings desert dust,
Wind of the chilling air
Harmattan haze is here.

A state of confusion
A time of hot and cold
Attended by dryness
Hitting the skins to snow.

The catarrh and dried leaves
Tuck into the long sleeves
Thick like ticks of a deer
Harmattan haze is here.

Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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