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Rare African Ray

Africa has seen
Horrifying moments
Destroy her fragile hearts
We still do…

And we still believe
That a dawn will bring forth
A ray to extinguish
This darkness.

Africans have been
Hoping for the longest
Dared, but it is the least
We can do…

And we still believe
That a ray can direct
All our paths and lead us
To greatness.

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

Isabella

Isabella
Isabella
Isabella
Whose sperm and egg
Formed your straight legs
And goodie bag.
Cracking the nuts
Your beauty hunts
Inside of it
Blacks do not crack
You never lack
Beautiful marks.

Isabella
Isabella
Isabella
You are pretty
That your beauty
Breaths life to death…
You are so rare
A pretty gel
Lips of Angels
And your dentals
Are so intact
Perfect in racks.

Isabella
Isabella
Isabella
You have this charm
Infectious smile
That takes to miles
Infatuations.
And the passion
In your fashion
Makes many man
Come to Milan
Lust as your fan.

Isabella
Isabella
Isabella
What will beauty
Look like without
You in its vault.
Perfect and fit
You are complete
With half moon lips,
The snow white teeth,
Infectious smile,
And pretty eyes.

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

Nigeria: Frowns of chicks

In the farm, there are many preys
But we count the number of crates

Bountiful harvest; all we pray
Running fast from all the lichen,

And the butchers in the kitchen
The hatchlings of the fat chicken…

Prays to survive daily movements
Tailored by kettles, pans and pots

The authority is corrupt
Dispensing tears, hardship and fear

To be fair, if you make it here
I bet, you can make it anywhere.

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

Sonnet: My first battle won

Against rattles
And obstacles
In glass bottles
The first battle
Outrightly won
When I was born
Is being black

Others may lack
Wrinkles do not
Penetrate nuts
In blackish lands
Time might hit hard
But fact is that
Blacks don’t crack.

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

Haiku: All but Wakanda

So sad, slave trade nicked
Africa into Marvel’s
Pit of Wakanda.

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

Haiku: Coarse harmattan voice

Flames and ices collide
Waning into harmattan
Voices catch the cold.

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Weirdness of the African gods

References must be cited,
My lecturers emphasized.
Be of good behavior
My parents urged I endeavor

Today’s trends in Nigeria
Breeze sickness like malaria
As these politicians are embezzling
The pretty ladies go prostituting,

Fake pastors be casting out demons
As these men spin wheel of quick monies
The country is no doubt
A shadow of its unborn self…

The fortunes that favors the bold here
Are our indigenous identity we fear
As others make it inferior by faking
To be another thing yet utilizing

Our heritage but as the hidden secret
Beyond these laments, my questions are
Will you rather be a virgin that made hell
Or a professional prostitute that made heaven?

If you were the African gods,
Will you rather people come into your shrine for miracles
Or give out charms to an anointed prophet
Who goes performing your miracle in another gods name?

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

My country and land

Are you looking for my homeland
And the magnanimous
Wonders you heard she has?

In a sad brief, tribalism
Has garnished and encroached
Into my native land

Every time I stand on a cliff
I see shadows and shades
From a foreigner’s hand

Though my land remains my country
My country has refused
To harbour my homeland.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sonnet: Critical case of Politics

The dust of harmattan began spinning
While leaves from “Iroko trees” were rotating

An overdue pregnant woman knelt down singing
“God make her pregnant” people were praying;

Yet the little foetus in her kept kicking
And the pains beside were excruciating

Some saw she was pregnant but kept on doubting
The credibility of what she was bearing

Young blood needed, tired of redefining
Leadership that has no true meaning

Everyone around her were but perusing
With the mind of the very same old thing

Casting out votes reciting and rejecting
The young she birthed and unborn from ruling.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Agbor: Eletu and a deer

In this land are the sands
Father’s hand, robbed as a kid.

Veins connect, Orogodo chest
As straight as the crow flies,

Youngest ever, sat on a thrown
Far before plebs had a phone

Before tides he was pride of homes,
Till his hides, turned white foams…

Black tongues and spirits bleach
Return home, his plebs preach

Orogodo River now a Vail
As the palace looses its file,

Right in the midst of it all
Several Hawks gathers tall

With babbles here and there
But the bush Eletu and a deer

Both crying out, hey my dear
Someday it shall be well…

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
– Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Inspired by Bar. J. Ifesemen

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