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Womb Prose: Talking to baby

Many kicks, many pains to battle
Mummy complains; “please be gentle”.

You make me beat my chest; “am the man”
You are my future number one plan.

Lemme go on to catch a grenade;
Love I got for you will never fade…

Allow good genes translates sweet berries
A future without you is barren…

Can’t wait to hear you call me daddy
Call mummy too, she is gladden.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Riding for Nature

Wrinkles seek no consent
Before it penetrates

Staying young is a race
No one can win the chase

I asked, where lies my fate
When I go grey and late

All beauties have a phase
But none can keep a pace

So now I ride my horse
Not to put coin in purse

But to give thanks to God
For this beautiful world.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Tough as an old boot

They say; the way home has the longest miles
Saying His grace, I wait for my hour

In your eyes, I am dull, weak and lazy…
Torn ligaments, cold tears gush from my eyes

I can’t remember the last time I smiled
Now a days, mountains keep growing taller

All things are hard before they get easy,
That was when Sunday mornings were easy

Not now when skies have swallowed the tower
Indeed; the way home has the longest miles.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Womb Prose: Axle Sonnet

Mum missed her visitor for a week
Then first trimester came in so quick.

Although with vomiting and fever
Not your fault, so don’t you bother.

Daddy can’t wait to hold your arms
Tiny five fingers and cradle charms.

You are the gift that completes his pack
Your cool heartbeat kept pulling him back.

So intrigued at your mother’s big round pot;
The new sweet look that she did begot

Gaining weight and looking beautiful
Although in pains, till day she births you.

Mummy can’t wait to push the axles
So prepare for contracting muscles.

©2019 http://Vinzpoetry.WordPress.Com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Womb Prose: Man’s gift and joy

Children are gifts
and a joy to man
Growing in the womb
like plants in farm.

Stretching they kick
walls of mother’s sack
Their echoing heartbeats
pulls daddy back.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Onion cause tears

Life is sweet, but grows to become sour
Nothing is synonymous to flowers
Than making it to the topmost tower
There are two ways up there, but avoid fears
One is step by step, the other is fast share
Onion mean well but it could cause some tears.

True character is seen when power,
And money is huge like whales that blower
In cool comfort, the raindrops and showers
Overnight makes all blemishes to clear
But the way to the top has many broken chairs
Onion mean well but it could cause some tears.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Loving our broken world

Some of us are faster
building great walls
Nonetheless we cluster,
making life hard

Some of us are eager
to travel worlds
Xenophobic murders,
they take our head.

Some of us are beggars
in foreign lands
Nothing thus is better
than rural brand.

Some of us are winners,
fame framed on walls
None of which would ever
offer a hand

Some of us live better
in broken worlds
Nothing thus is uglier
than foreign land.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Waking up till we ghost

Larvas may fly as butterflies
All moves they try are old in skies

Partying wile! come out in style
In a short while, we all will die.

On chopping boards we are capons
Life grabbed the horns, and toss a coin

Not all that churn, spread butter on
Like rhinos horns, unequal torn

Finger are not, same bolts and nuts
Nights batter hats, it hurts a lot.

Up comes the sun, we think we won
But we are born to take a turn

There is no cure to our failure
It is for sure, life is impure.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sonnet: Lessons from my parents

My parents have no fancy cars but greater mass
Through them I learnt to lower hands and respect ants.
The grass matters, always render help to others
Having a name is not the same for coins and fame.
Their blood my drink, I built my bricks, from all I sucked
I felt the rod, I cried and nod, away from mud…
In their actions, I picked passion which to function.

You do not burn your home or turn away from dawn
Simply because, you have a course, to break a curse.
To mould a clay, you have today, so they will say;
Never you bail, hammer thus fail, running from nails,
Make no excuse, do not refuse to be of use
Is not by wants but dues and sweats you pay for worth
Do not show strength when humble horns can induce choice.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Old man failure

With great pleasure a dog dug a grave
It snuffed out not treasures but a rage
Coming from dried bones of rock age.

Lamenting on how they had all failed
Cutting across, mirrors, lenses and led
Refracting the light, visions they bend.

No silver spoon but unfavorable genes
Coming deep from tall ancestral trees
Posthumous clear, regrets never cease

Life gave guns as toys, they sort for lucks
From drugs and scam in school of hard knocks
And as the twig bends, they planted on rocks.

Lack of persistence got them no win
No self discipline they were never clean
Not through self efforts, they gained power from bins

In all their positions, intemperance;
Procrastination, were their best friends
Until it lured them to undesirable ends.

Many an old man, has past they wish to rewind
Where they built glass castles on empty cloud
Throwing stones, hitting floors regretfully loud

Remember time ticks fast, it isn’t yours to own
And the living body you wear is but only a loan
For the old man failure stays with him to bone.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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