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In the hands of the pigs

Down the streets, I see fierce men in blacks
Throwing punches and spraying bullets back
On both the dead guilty and the innocent
From such grief no man becomes a saint…

Down the streets, I pass everyday
There are a lot my eyes see and lips can’t say
If I were to write, I will run out of pages
It has been on since the rock of ages…

I see torn rags, I see fat pigs, I see hawks
I see ugly vultures perking clean rotten foods
I see little ants queueing for shrunken and fat pigs
Though most times the results are rigged…

At the other end where the grasses are green
I see different faces but the same within
For as they wear the authority band
The little ants and gullible expect a hand

A helping hand, but the route to end injustice,
Alongside corruption and malpractice
Causing sufferings to large extent
And institutionalized Government,

Making every under the roof look so dumb
As well as embezzlements in all forms,
Are the same routes fat pigs themselves pass
On a regularly on their way flying first class.

©2020 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

Secrets of sprinklers

Watch the company you keep
Sweep fairweather if you can
Let go of an excess weight
Appreciate every wingspan.

Like an iron and the magnets,
Carrots and the rabbits
Attract what wouldn’t pretend
Or hide facts, that your face has dirts.

Most times it isn’t the nudity
But fecundity by another,
Fecundity as in creativity
And ability to grow together.

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

A day with a rich man

I sat down with a rich man
On the same kind of rattan
I couldn’t alter a word
But enthusiasm swirled

I watched him from head to toe
Close and deep into his soul
He had pimples no dimples
Yet he smiled cute and simple

I sat down with a rich man
On the same kind of rattan
Embarrassment of riches
Were his problems not witches..

I sniffed for costly perfume
And found nothing I presumed
His mindsets were not money
But centered round harmony

I sat down with a rich man
On the same kind of rattan
He was just like you and I
One day, to earth says, goodbye.

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

Beautiful Zombies

In two shakes of a dog’s tail
The weather changes, so they say
With raindrops that are rubied
Rolling from bunch of zombies

Staggering down in the street
Possessing all that they meet
Conspiracies all sprung up
As a norm we all adopt.

Decent ones in the city
Soon became filthy dirty
Devils and trolls we hired
Became woods in our fire

The blacks and whites not like us
We destroy with sticks and rods
When the infants starts to creep
We shoot them right from our hips

Yet with our scary wild eyes
We still hunt the tranquil ice
And not until we change our views
The zombies are all but good.

(C) 2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Save me from my friends

I hear people say,
I have an old head
On a young shoulder
But the said wisdom
Came from people’s tales…

And in all it said,
Though time might have past,
Save me from my friends…
The more things change
The more they stay same.

(c) 2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Baboon’s wishful thinking

Innovators develop creature’s comfort
Yet no mortal can physically go out of itself
Like bare bodies stripping off its clothes
In deed, ghosted eyes would never have closed.

I wish the Creator was kind on my kind
So we can jump off into any flesh we find
We are monkeys, and not spirits being
Don’t blame us for dying over such a thing.

The Creator’s support carries weight
But I guess He had ran through all the stakes
Knowing that I am so beautiful
Just the way I am…. not beautiful.

(C) 2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
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