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Don’t close those eyes

Soon you will be off an infant cloth
And may encounter storms, dust and rust

Some achievements may seem a mirage
Unachievable until success emerge

Some days stale may be crystal clear
And the heart would harbor a million fear

Dear, just like the cows are sometimes farrow
Tomorrow comes with its own sorrows

And joy, though showing forth its negative signs
Cry whenever the sun refuse to shine

But never you loss hope in things you do
The adage, “Light at the end of the tunnel” is true

Darkest hour is always before the dawn
It springs eternal and hits a home run

The suspense it showers deep into life
Doesn’t mean you should forever shut those eyes.

©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Blurt out

Let the pages fly and spread their wings
Let my spilled inks make millions to think
It is plain and simple, hope it sinks
“All man has his fault”, the song I sing…

Some make angels to cry a river
Wrecking the cake not worth the candle,
I have made words fly off the handle
Like bullets from a trigger finger.

I have made unspeakable remarks
Awful, but to some I am proud of
Like daring heads and shoulders above
To stop picking paper over cracks…

On a wrong foot I might have stood firm
I am sorry it was all my fault
In life, there are few things I regret
But not the words blurted out in poems.

©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The masses are also the problem

It is no news that the pigs are fat
As a result of the embezzlements
Taking politics as a personal farm
Eating from the labors of the ants…

I haven’t crossed the shores for sure
But I will place a bet, that wouldn’t fret
Or retract, having seen Eagles crawl
Passing piggery genes unto eaglets.

Accustomed to suffering and smiling
Whereas they hold the key to end the pains
Instead, they chose, fixing and buying
Assets for pigs to whom bills and taxes are paid.

©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Let’s not go back to 2020

There was blood between two greens,
After the peace and unity disagreed
The young bloods came out singing
With purpose as they were marching.

The birds hummed promises to fix the error
Yet they changed the name “error” to “terror”
Was it that, the protest had no direction?
Or was it just another, pull them down syndrome?

Answers came from centres that began to tear
Forming thick black fumes in the air
As properties and structures were set ablaze
Insane it was, seeing anyone truly amazed.

Many young bloods came out stretching their claws
In a once peaceful protest turned to war…
Lost was the hope that was left
After the trained turtles sprayed bullets.

Indeed tempos arose, in all directions
The birds announced there would be sanctions
But the rage of terror never ceased
Into the streets, more turtles were lunched

To calm things down, and maybe to shoot again…
In all, the greens and white were in pains
Seeing their characters loss global integrity
As the pawns were out absolutely in disunity

Those who had, and had nothing to lose brought knives
And most behaved like they had nine lives
Beheaded, but survived the many lies
From the birds, who sang, “no pawn ever died”

Politicians are all the same over the world
But for humanity we ought to build great walls
With peace and progress, yet we take a wrong path
Whereas just two Kings in chessboard is a still mate.

©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Dire straits

In the jungle I am told never to rush,
I am told to always take things slow,

Before my eyes, I miss so much,
Yet, I am compelled to let them go

That if they were truly mine,
Back to me, they will always find…

I have never been really fine
Not taking courage in both hands

Outcome has been wide off the mark
Being civil and gentle truly fits

But I have nothing, when unpacked
Aside grasses growing under my feet.

©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Building blocks of creativity

Without thoughts the mind wouldn’t function.
Cast your mind on positives thoughts
For the mind exists as a static form
And it takes your thought which is dynamic
To get creativity going.

©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Are we actually independent?

We are celebrating sixty,
Yet there are no basic amenities,
Nigeria!! In her house is where I grew up,
Everyday she worsens, I am fed up.

Actually, not that I am fed up
Loving my Nation but individuals
And their never sustaining mentality
Killing the fishes till streams are empty…

Things fall apart, and when the center holds
They personally force the head and tails
To think and act in total disunity;
So her future would turn ashes on the tray.

I am fed up on individuals and how they feel
Nonchalant, not paying utility bills
Whether things are epileptic
Or functional as they seek..

I am fed up on every individual
Who live their lifespan as bandits,
Cheats, acting like an ugly vulture
Disturbing the peace of the Nation.

I am fed up on the recycling leaders
Who take turns enriching their selves
At the expense of the masses
Who are not skipping corruption classes.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Wonderful Vincent

Around me, there is this solace like a twilight
With intensity like the tropical Sunlight

When I am down, I believe a break of dawn
Would spring forth through the paths my faith has drawn

I believe tomorrow is as beautiful as the stars
Whether the unsaved tears never dries from my eyes

Challenges are mischievous like Satan’s storm fart
But it carves me, into a wonderful piece of art.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Spoonful

Just like the cream,
In coffee and teas,
Rises to the top,
In the glass cup…

It is conspicuous
I got a rather die
Hovering around
And over my head.

Do not get it twisted
Behind the dark clouds
The sky is always blue
When they come through…

Like a mother hen
And a mountain gorilla
Underneath the sky
Rivers never runs dry,

Whether bedazzled or not,
It is never by chance
They prepared the ground,
Grounds on which I stand.

At times I wonder,
Why I am so blessed…
I will never bend a lip
For if I were to worship

Any mortal being,
My amazing parents
Would be whom I
Would always lift high…

Don’t get it twisted
I believe in God
And I am grateful
For a heaped spoonful.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Inner content

I am a man whose thoughts and foods
Are; “good walls makes good neighbors”
So I can’t break it to you
Fools like me respect boundaries.

With my foolishness comes a soul
Akin to no beau monde blitz…
Without sight there is no offer
If only the face behoves me

I don’t like an empty tea
Beauty is only a skin deep
And when it speaks it should show all
All the hats including cattles.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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