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Sharing depression

Dead are the days
Of the secret diaries
Like the hoots to owls
Twitter is to the bird
None of these make sense..

But we all keep sharing
To the rabbit holes
We call the internet
The beautiful side
Of our mortal life

Hiding the webbed legs
Of a floating duck
All always seems well
Blowing big kisses
On pictures and videos

Creating bundle of hoaxes
Tagging and hiding
Our broken teeth;
And deep inside us
We are a heap of pain…

Yet we share information
Just to feed the brains
Of others watching
Making them feel
Our lives are better…

Then in turn, they repeat
The trend of gesture
Taking sweet pictures
Of sunlight, hiding heat
And passing depression.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Rats on the ceilings

There is this noise that keeps me awake
Ranting from the east; amplifying in west
Just as the quakes from an earthquake;

During the day it is calm, and still as a lake
But at night, it flows more than I can take
Making unending twittering sound of birds

Excruciating from a particular corner
And at same time striking loud like thunder
Mimicking drums, and all there are to drummers;

Pulling my eyes unto their movement
Nothing I see, so nothing I ever find
Wondering how they got there to hide.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

How can we be one

Blood pool in the east
Explosions down south
Hausa kill Igbo’s
Herdsmen kill farmers.

There are columns
That turns me off
Each time I am
Filling a form

I so dislike
The religions options
It makes me wonder
Whose God is right…

I so dislike
Columns of origin
And emphasis on
Local government…

Though we have
To identify
Our identity
And our zones

But that is what
The politicians use
To rip us apart
How can we be one?

When we have planted
A mustard seed
For the differences
In religion and tribe.

If you have the power
To correct our wrongs
Please listen to this lament
And cry for a united world.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

My country and land

Are you looking for my homeland
And the magnanimous
Wonders you heard she has?

In a sad brief, tribalism
Has garnished and encroached
Into my native land

Every time I stand on a cliff
I see shadows and shades
From a foreigner’s hand

Though my land remains my country
My country has refused
To harbour my homeland.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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