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Beauty in clothes
Riding down the street
In the mysterious
Small city of life;
I met a lady;
And strangely, all my
Worries disappeared
She is so awesome
Only comparison
Is her reflection
She is a wonder
Her curves and edges
Are all conspicuous
There is this intense
Craving that troubles
All gaze that spots her
Attracting to eyes
Are her oranges
Fruity and juicy.
So well configured
She got big behind
Whenever she bends,
She cast shades on sun
Strange how her body
Could heal an illness…
Obsession for her
Never seem to end;
She is a treasure
Of great value; damn!
She’s hot as hell.
And even with her
Endowment she still
Dresses decently,
Yet many ladies
Out there in the street
Not as hot as her
Flaunt their nakedness.
©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Darling Mom
I love my mom, she is kind and caring
She never sells ices to the Eskimos
Instead she provides, our meaningful needs
We aren’t the richest but we never starved.
Running from medications and hot water
Every time we had an injury, innocently
We hide it from her, but eventually
She always have a way of finding out…
She isn’t just a provider or an observer
Neither is she just another doctor
But she is a protector and a teacher,
The pillar of the home, she is a lioness!
Each time we err, she corrects our wrongs
And sings sweet songs applauding our right
Though most times she wears the scary look
It made bad neighbours not to mess with us…
Behind her straight unsmiling face, you will see
She is the sweetest and most caring mom
When nervous like a cat on hot tin roof
My mom would make you conquer those fears
And when frightened by anything or anyone
Run to her, and hide just behind her back
She is a superwoman, when she is home,
We are rabbits in the headlights that do not think.
Even as her sons marry their queens, and
Her daughters are leaving to another home,
Tongues would forever crave her delicious meals….
Oh! What would we have become; without our darling mom.
©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Coming of smash
I do not like grapes but in a bad shape,
When I ran out of luck, and had a shock
That the nuts are rare to the blind squirrels
The Elephant fell; I experienced hell.
I do not like grapes but in a bad shape,
When I got no help, and no honor left,
Then I knew; that when you smile, the world smiles
A lot but, when you cry, alone will cry.
I do not like grapes but in a bad shape
I adjusted my taste, and amended my faith
To enable me yield and let the pain lead
And breed me seeds that will cover the fields.
I do not like grapes but in a bad shape,
It was condition that made crayfish bend
Hence, I only breath with hope and believes
Bearing it all, till the smash hits the shores.
©2019 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Rude Awakening
The beautiful sky, the cool breeze
The twinkling stars, and sunlight
Refreshing water, delicious meals
The meme of science and discovery,
The great artifacts and all wonders
Unique organisms, the hills and trees
The intrigue of sleep, refresh awake
The weightlessness of play,love and laughter
An amazing family, sweet friendships
The fog, mist, snow, rain we see and feel
The odors and sweet fragrance we smell
The sounds and pleasures we hear and feel
Always gives me a rude awakening
I just have to accept the fact that,
A day shall come, when we will all be gone.
©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Fairweather friends
Happy like a dog with two tails
Jumping around bond bosom trail
For a friend I always bend the rule,
A million friends and a million brew
Not even one, when the storm grew
Could help or aid my breakthrough.
I’ve been bruised and shackled in pools
By drowning friends, I tried to pull
After all that, I stayed as a fool
I thought the door swings in two ways
During the thick, thin and wrinkles
A lot of my friends forgot my name.
Be careful of the friends you make
Some are mosquitoes by the lake
Hanging around to always take.
Many are nothing but a green snake
You can learn from my mistake
All stretched hands, are not for handshakes.
© 2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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The mental chains
It is difficult being a man!!!!
Time and seasons, I do respect
Avoiding the spills and the stress
Using tricks failure thought success.
I put blames on another clan
Accusing them for all my flaws
Even when obviously my claws
Were the ones at fault breaking laws.
Though my body and mind are one
We have never been on same page
No matter how we try on stage
We always forget our real image.
I no longer believe I can
Evade the spills and move further
Because my chains are far stronger
Than their weakest links and binders.
©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Dead before honor
I have got a mix of cold and fire,
So in need of a million naira,
To help fulfil innermost desires
Sadly I keep getting failed promises
My calls they all deliberately miss
Should I die now, there will be a bliss
Many would cry for me childishly
When am laid, they would smile sheepishly
Feasting and spending so lavishly.
©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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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
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Riding for Nature
Image courtesy: Becca (https://sunnybrookfarm92631041.wordpress.com)
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
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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.
