e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

Category Archives: Death

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

A shot in the dark

I wish I could get to the end of the space
Lean by its edge; seeing all, right on my face,
Not just the stars and rocks, but to visualize
All the possibilities life can realize…

Maybe I would realize things wide off the mark
And not by blind faith nor whistles in the dark
Aside religions are there aliens up there
Or is it only tailored here on this sphere?

I stay rooted on earth, but I smell a rat
Though imaginary but it is a fact
For answers to be gotten, the end of space
Would have an interpretation of our faith.

But my fate wouldn’t take me to space to smell
The rum, raspberry, gunpowder and steak seared,
Nor unravel the mystery of darkness,
Light’s untold purpose and everything else.

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

Blown to go

Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear
Some are higher touching the sky
Some just spread out their wings to fly.

Others are fighting to be light
Obviously none is ever right
Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear.

Whether we are, or not off the ground
When it gets to our turns and rounds
Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear.

Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear
Till gravity draws us to floor
This life is not balance at all.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

A painter called Earth

All memoirs fade, and goes with breath
Allowing more heads to grace the earth
Till time wash the memories off
There are wonders in paint and brush.

©2020 http:// vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Question by the graveyard

I wonder where babies come from
I wish they could beat their drums
We will not wonder where to go
When withered and covered in holes.

Since none of us forever stays
So will I be wrong if I say
We all were never here on earth
Worrying over how death felt.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Cruel case of mankind

On a special day, breathe we found
Of course yes, we must have cried
We did not know when we were born
Worries were not ours, we were young.

As life may, we followed the tide
And do not know when we will die
Though some may luckily bid bye
The stream of tears never runs dry.

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

Sonnet: The Frontliners

We all ought to copy a good example
From the selfless services that never prattles
When stuttering riffles, rapidly rattles
Taking shots for humanity in battles
That comes in various forms like balls in skittles
Knocking down breadwinners leaving no bottles
But just sour bitter tears in a teakettle.

Through dottles the Nation swallows her spittle
The devastation can never be bottled
But their offices are replaced while they whittle
Into narrow coffins holding their mettle
Most times their homes become a tent dismantled
But couldn’t they have left behind a castle ?
Sacrifices like theirs are far from a guttle.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Fabrics on the floor

Her dress is not to blame
For burning down bridges
To quench an ugly urge
And her not resisting
Means not it is no rape.

Sex ought to connect souls
With faces looking better
Not grievances, between legs
Cutting across genders
From the grey to cradles.

Torn fabrics on the floor
And a penetration
Whether sober or not
You are a rapist blame
No alcohol and drug.

Be a lover, not a fighter,
Unless she likes it rough
And never you ever
Force your way through,
Without her precious consent.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Justice for Uwavera II

It pains to feel the pain
Or voice unheard complains
Dug out around the roots
And uprooted from the earth
Uwa was just a girl
Twenty two, so unfair
Raped and killed in the church
She didn’t deserve such.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Justice for Uwavera (I)

Seek consent and be sure
Before you pull or draw
All bakers use a flour
Not to mess up the floor

I know you may be lust
And it is all your fault
Uwavera was just
Not an ordinary dust.

©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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