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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
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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
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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
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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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Synecdoche of Current page
The shadows we run from helps us turn
The inherent aptitude, from page to page.
Writing books with no table of content
Just preface gotten from the naming days,
No human can take back the hands of time;
The characters in here are none frictions.
Grey and shadows are our awaiting shelves
Forever young is a pie in the sky.
In life we live, we Author our own book
Writing our own stories on mortal sheets.
Current page is at times the worst page of our books
Though at times, not the case, for those on top the world.
Every day a page turns for next chapter to come
No Author knows the end of his story.
The shadows we run from lives by the grey
An inherent aptitude in our books.
©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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The straw that broke a camel’s back
Fallen to floor, there came ladders
Not from paid dues, I used to owe
But from distant shores of strange land
Never flown to, or even know.
No penny, no purse and uglier
Than chimpanzees, well, with good doze
At same time raw like tomatoes;
My strength she pulls by straw she rolls.
The beautiful claws of wonders
Behind her, shows her camel-toes
Yet in her flaws she is better
Than the angels I used to know.
©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Sonnet: Holy terror of Nature
I fell in love with nature’s rove
Till she dug hole shredding my soul.
My arteries drain like batteries
Then cable cuts, flesh starts to rot
Her rivers flow and her wind blows
With such a charm until it harms,
So not my fault, I don’t want
Another round of sight and sound.
In fear I pound so fast and loud
By Nature’s jar both near and far,
My worst nightmare, is how she flares
Like I owe her, lots of naira.
Displaying rage from stage to stage
Till the sky drops, she never stops.
©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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False battlefields
Life is a complex cable
Connecting possibilities
Goals we chase but blows we get
Taking turns receiving drop jaws
For what do I know, than to say
If you fail, try and try again.
Life is a complex cable
Connecting possibilities
No matter how you try and try
If preparation meets not
With an opportunity
Failure will be inevitable.
Life is a complex cable
Connecting possibilities
Gurus we are, and so we wish
Trying to gain an Einstein’s hairs
Fair enough, nothing ever counts,
In six feet where skulls shall rot.
Life is a complex cable
Connecting possibilities
No man can escape the result
If you attempt cheating death
Warm will turn cold while you realize
Finding success is died in cast.
©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Dead Dream’s Dream
Dreams change the world at large
Hence it chose you to dream and create
Writing new ranges in pages
Of morning dew drops to elate.
More than Seas, tall as hills
Bright as sunlight was future you
Now I see cup of teas
Cracking starlight falling as cubes.
My hopes blew; I told you
To walk away from cold embrace.
I showed you not all new
Dawns bring today in all man’s race.
But the you that you are
Looked for roses elsewhere and flied
Black and blue, blunt and cruel,
He killed you there on dreaming bed.
©2019 http://vinzpoetry.wordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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A brush with death
The air begins to leak
Inevitably,
During a brush with death
We are unable
But beckon for breath
Running from rest we seek.
