Category Archives: Cycle Of Inspiration

Wind of change

Round and round
The earth goes;
The wind blows
The electorates…

Whose thumbnails
The ink stains;
The wind blows
Dusty periods.

Do not preach
Changing wings;
Enough of these
Chains and lakes…

Feel the whirl
Dry hot winds;
Our skin cries
Dehyrated we feel.

Do not preach
Future please;
A day after
Clogging our eyes.


Shell please get out of my head
You’ve done lots against my lead
You’ve made an adult act like a kid
You’ve made a tree small like a seed
You’ve coroded and rusted a nonmetallic deed
You’ve brought shames and a lots of greed
Shell please get out of my head.

Shell please get out of my head
You’ve made my boldness seem so dead
You’ve given me less I need to be paid
You’ve turned my speeds to actions delayed
You’ve quenched my fire and made it iced
You’ve left me defenceless without a heed
Shell please get out of my head.

Shell please get out of my head
You’ve clogged my sight and made me blind
You’ve turned my tongue into slumber bed
You’ve made my bold porous with your shield
You’ve frozen my desires, legs and mind
You’ve made me achieve less of my need
Shell please get out of my head.


Trapped in the darkest part of a lonely island
Where I’m a fairy kid, but right on my bed

I can’t turn rims to florets nor even a frame
Seems as if I’ve got a brim of talents as a flame

Burning sensation and routine that defames
I try and try but I’m trapped inside my dreams..

Like a key in an unwire or faulty ignition
I am lost inside inspiration and motivation.

But eachtime I try to turn torns to rose
I get infused periodically by another dose

Half a drop and another dose of another no
With – sorry, try again, you never know

Now even inspirations dampens my mood
Rejections and turn down now seems a food

So I’m disappointed in the shallows of the deep
Knocking myself out with a drink, plain black to sleep.

We are

We give the jingles to a bell
We turn silence into a yell.

We are the elements of a cell
We are emulsion, we are the gell.

We are the substances that we sell
We are the shallow and deep water well.

We are for heaven, we are for hell
We are the stories that we tell.

We are skeptical, arrogantly we ignore,
That we are all same steel, iron and ore.

We are the lies and the truth we blink
We are the stories that always leak.

We are the ink of our past, peak and link
Connecting in tandem from pipes to sink

We are our frowns, smiles and wink
We are our struggles, sorrows and meek

We are the stories told, slow and quick
On a script, we are breathe and things we think.

Author : Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

In need of Peace

Yes the double green is multilingual
I foresee a dialect infused in all tribes

And that dialect is a universal peace
Flowing through the uptight tongues

Like breeze so the fabrics can breath
With ease, for the world to be at peace.

Up the North, is a pool of bloodshed
South south has a series of thug war,

I wish the white doves will rove free
So the dirty black oil and air can be pure

Such that everyday brings forth peace
And self belief, unity and good deeds.

Love and safety would be an household name
Kindness shall be phenomena and free for all

East to west, both the poor and rich
Shall have tall strong standing trees

Growing firmly from the root in peace
Making black lives on earth an ease.

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