Fates of loo
Just like light to a surface
Casting shadows on all places
Scars, wrinkles and the dents
Of loo all have common end…
If reflections could only speak
So many secrets would be leaked
For every day a child is born
Loo is by the corner hanging on,
Patiently waiting for the time
Sparks of light will cease to shine
Patiently waiting for its torn
In the minds that put dreams on…
Some may spring from carelessness
Others germinate all by chance
Slipping through one’s own finger
To complete recipes of disaster
What an opportunist loo must be
Fighting what was meant to be…
Up in the smoke, throwing towels
Welcoming another troubled bowel
Right on stage, loo seem to call
Giants and ants until they fall,
Its memories are in kicked buckets
And dust covered bodies in caskets…
The grave is where loo has its theme
Echoing from voices of lost dreams
And once another child is born
Like shadows, by their dreams, loo hands on.
(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Waiting for sunsets
The cock may crow
at the break of dawn
hopeful we are for,
tomorrow’s sun…
There are times I
think about leaving
and where I will be
lost in my sleep
On the thin ice
we are all waiting
like an employee,
for that we reap…
On our payroll
is the same caption:
saying; “when I call,
don’t be stunned“.
(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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You are next
Legends add bricks to the wall
But the game has the same ball
Seeking virtue, to do more
Than anyone has done before.
Ranging from the short and tall,
To the greatest of them all
They had a time they did fall
On dunes and muds, yes for sure!
Some shot blanks on empty nets
When the goal was put to test
Not until they conquered doubt
Did they begin to stand out
Like roots have had their own spot
To spread and grow till they rot
Records are to be surpassed;
Never be scared, you are next!
(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Jars of scars
A round of applause for my skin
That tells of places that I’ve been
The pinching pains witnessed and seen
As an adult and as a teen
Battles I won and didn’t win
Are fulcra of my flapping wings
I’ve been battered by troubled seas
Lost my feathers and lost my fins
Scratched by tiggers, smoked by kilns
Picking stains that can’t be cleaned
I’ve lost my nails in quaking scenes
Under the bridge is where I’ve been…
I’m a board of bruise and blisters
Gotten from sharks and accipiters
I’ve swam in the deadliest waters
Precluding weights on my shoulders
Shedding sweats and making blunders
I’ve bled on all stones and flowers
Even on same spots and corners
That gave me scars I remember
Round of applause for the monster
Who happens to be a painter,
I see him now as a teacher
And judge him not by his cover…
Lessons I learned from all my scars
Are never the same in my jar
Not even an exploding maar
Or scars firm as harmattan cheddar
Wider than oceans or dark as tars
Can stop me from loving these scars
Outward or within, low or high
On the verge of life’s draining bars
I don’t care if a trocar
Comes plucking off all I garnered;
A life lived without scars and chars
Is like being a stringless guitar.
© 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Beclouded rose
Starring in the roles of ecstasies
Are bewitching flowers from precious trees
That exists in the sacred rhapsodies
Of fickle hearts catching pitter-patter,
From the styles and stigmas that deters
Immortals from grace as they pander.
This very pedal has an inner beauty
That conforms not with confidentiality
Instead her fragrance, in high velocity
Make the honeycombs to never run dry
As it willingly dispenses cravings into beehives
Transmitting signals stamen long to have.
This flower is configured to shine and rule
Her pride rests on her own receptacle
She’s beauty personified, yes it’s true
Like Aphrodite’s in reincarnation
Stretching back from time of creation
Till now, none can compete with her perfection
Aside the artifact in the treasure chest
Inside the ecstasy, she appears stainless,
Big and soft, classy and simple, yet complex
As her shadow, I’ve seen her naked by the mirror
Intently conceiving herself a pure allure
Whereas outside the illusion she has many scars and errors.
© 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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The lady man
Who is such a darling
She isn’t that stainless
But she is the sweetest of goddess
She makes the sun shine
And gives sweet taste to a wine,
She is to affection a magnet
Impeccably perfect.
She dignifies her skin
With such kindness within
Staying golden and true
Indeed, her kind is few…
She speaks so smoothly
Creating that heavenly
Environs of pleasure
No mortal can measure…
She has her own scars
But it doesn’t deter
Her magnanimity
To help communities…
Although her skin is dark
Her heart of gold never lacks
Love rainbow and tender care blend
Showering down to never end.
(C) 2021 http://Vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Hazel’s Diary: I would always be there
Now little Hazel don’t you cry
Dad’s gonna be there all the time
He is your baby sitter, take high five…
Guffawing and chuckling, mess with the flour
Feel free, it is your time and that is for sure
Like a janitor, Dad’s gonna clean up the floor.
You’ve got a super hero in your Dad
That is a reason you no know harm
And forever will be his beautiful charm
But whenever you cross a road,
Busy or not, with or without a load
Always remember your crossing guard.
Now little Hazel, don’t you cry
Daddy’s always gonna be by your side
In the softest part of his heart is where you reside
Worry not about alarms and grounds that may shake
Daddy’s a firefighter he will keep you safe
From any form of eerie flames and shame…
Daddy’s girl worry about not a thing,
He is gonna buy you a diamond ring
And drive you round town, hearing you sing
With the names of your favorite toys and pets
If your pet ever fall sick, gnash no teeth
In dad you’re got the greatest of vets.
Although he is gonna give you all the tools;
That wouldn’t stop him from fighting your battles
He is proudly your watchman and force man too
Don’t you worry when your toys break or tear;
He is also your mechanic, he would repair
In his hats, are rabbits he pulls out to share
Enlightening you on all you need to know,
As your talent coach, your talents shall grow
And as your teacher, your grades shall know no low…
Just think about anything delicious; you got a chef,
A waiter and a baker, in dad and on his shelf
He has the recipes, the very best for your health…
Now little Hazel, hemorrhage may come
Daddy’s gonna be your superb doctor
Healing you, don’t be scared to explore
Life is a river, and if when you swim
In the shallowest or ones filled to brim
Remember, a life guard you have in him.
Now little Hazel don’t you cry
Daddy may not be there all the time
After you’ve recited those nursery rhymes
But as your mail carrier, let it be clear
That you are forever his baby girl
And only good news your ears shall hear
Though everyday you learn new tricks
Dad is the scientist caught up in the mix
Studying all your new discoveries…
They say; what you sow is what we reap,
Daddy is a farmer, you were once his seed
Now a bountiful harvest is all he sees…
(c) 2021 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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The underestimated workforce
The sun scorches until the lightening strikes
For daily pay, with or without demanding wives
A manual worker’s life hurts more than a knife
Breaking, mixing and lifting things of heavy fetch
Some pierce through the fibers of an hippo’s flesh
Providing an excruciating pain hitting refresh
A million broken bones; ligaments are torn
I may have no firsthand experience for sure
But I have seen them with my naked eyes endure
The peanut’s sweat and insubordination,
And not to forget, their classification…
Powerless; yet, they are pillars of great Nations.
(c) 2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Dying of laughter
I am happy, I am pleased
Yet, I can’t even breathe
Guffaws not chuckles in bit
Seems I could even die of it…
Hormones grant me no bail
While laughing out for real
Choking on the Joker’s pill
And I can’t unseal the deal…
I am happy, and this so close
To dying of an overdose…
Higher my diaphram goes,
When my laughter gets arouse
I am happy, I am pleased
Rolling on the floor to pits
Air, lungs desperately need
Can’t stop laughing; it is so sweet.
e-Paper Poetry of Vinx 