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Dark but light

Clustering in unity
Representing my community
Proud of my identity…
I am the black tamarind plum
I am not just small
But mighty, ask my adversary

Although at times
The wind do come
But like seeds and shells
I am hard as well
Hard to succumb
To any form of difficulties.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Off the beaten track

Who broke into the stores on the street
If it is not a black man he is bleached
And who pulled the trigger in the club
It must be a black man’s gun or a toy,
Hence he is chained and wasted in bangles
Wandering from breaking news and wounds
Bleeding to the vice of lights that mingle
With complexions attracting word called evil.

Oh yes…! On the outer I am so black
But my soul goes off the beaten track
Throwing love towards the fires of flaw
Waiting patiently to regain the floor,
Not because I am so scared of war
But because the rainbow has all…
Hence I show the world pleasant flavor
And not a storm of an awful odour.

© 2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Fela Kuti – African Chief

By now, you should know Fela
His records are as long as a pole
Like a King; he was not buried in holes
But ascended to become a god…

Please, bow to greet an immortal man
He has walked on acids and fires
Well barefooted; and had bathed
With the magmas of volcanoes…

He had torn tears and bled blood
Hence on his dark African head
You will see a red colour cap
With two long Eagle feathers…

From the age of his heritage
Came his staffs and chains
Made from the toughest trunk
Of the largest Elephants

He was fearless like the lions
Not because his pants and capes
Were made from the skins
Of the beast in thick forest

But while he walked and talked
The planetary bodies trembles
His dance awakened the sleeping ghost
By the boldness of historical voice

He never for ones chased the flies
When he swung his white horse tail
But he made the ancestors rejoice
On the ship of which he sailed.

2018 vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Knocking on the door (Iku eka’ozo)

The time
When parents
Is gone…

The time
To knock door
By self
For love
Is come

Ku’ eka. (knock hands)
Ozo… (door)
If you
So truly
Love her!

Of Agbor
Will say:
So we
Are here

We came
For a charm
A Rose
Whose scents
We drink..

En’yi (we)
Racho onyen (came finding someone)
Si’kode (that will)
Bu’ye (give)
Enyi nni. (us food)

These sweet words
The wide
Long door
Is opened

Sweet maidens
Starts to
Take turns

In wrappers
From heads
To toes
Come out

We look
We pick
The one
We chose.

©2018 vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Dirty man

White on the inside
If you doubt, please cut
So doubts can cease

Should my blood stains hide
Not; who I am not
Understand please

I wasn’t as tan
As this, but the hot
Burning sun I kiss

Day and night on pan
For bliss so ends meet
Covers dark and pale

And bleached me so tight
Giving me these looks
You call; dirty man.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Primitive days

I am reincarnated in modern days
But I remember the old folks say
If you have just a swollen troat
Tie a crab on the damn goiter
Then we smeared vultures brain
And sometimes rub human feces
At times seek for the healing touch
Of a breathless little black child…

I do miss drinking from calabash
But I can perfectly remember
I often saw the village boys
Who suffered from leprosy
Drinking concussions made
From the rotting snakes
While those having syphilis
Where made to eat vulture meats.

I remember the elderlies
Would make a ring made of
Human feces over their eyes
Just to cure a blurry vision
Pregnant mothers were told
The rays from eclipsing moon
Could cause the babies to
Be born, deformed or retarded.

Those days were pretty fun
In the yard, white chalks we had
The roofs were made from trees
There was this atmosphere
In our village settlement
As the cock crows, we all woke
Daddy walked in the farms
While mummy prepared breakfast.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu


The generations
Of the dark black men

Are now white and brown
Years after they gone…

Ours are now their farm
And it all began

When Pikin turned kids
And fowls called chicken…

Green lands of the black
In ample then lack

As core accent twist
To accommodate

Hi, hello… clap for

We are now enslaved
To its suits and ties,

With synthetic foods
And brilliant brains….

Lost in white shadows
Behind ruby lips

Perm and the blonde hairs
As the bleached heirs

Jamming the hands for,

That tore our wrappers
And white native chalks.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

African dancer

In a dark night with stars
No mosquito come sucking
A sun glittering hide…

There are cold drinks in bar
A little of your sipping
The heaven you shall find.

Come and dance with me ma
You are a black entity
Whine and shake those behind

There is no another
It is you and I dancing
To the beats of our background.

©2017 Vincpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

African Angel

In my dreams, is a draught
Of your ventilating image…
That make dumbs talk and scream.

I duff hats, I go frost
With a slow sign of the cross
You are my golden Queen…

A black African Angel
Finer than the goddess
And more tempting than sin.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
Image source: ©HARINZEY ART

The green trip

Born a black man on a dark soil
Made of green and white folks
With two horses at shield side…
Blessed with gifts of prophesies
And all my dreams come to pass.

Many of us, sat at the bus stop
Patiently at the finger of God,
Deep inside my dream last night.
We were not tribal heading for
The land of great opportunities.

Out of the blues, came a train
At the hour of five o clock…
And thousands choked themselves
Into the tightly filled long train
Which later moved in a snail pace.

I continued my wait for a bus
Though expensive, in recession
But trip to Lagos, was worth it
Hours later then came another train
Leaving Delta towards opportunities…

I came on board with a hundred
As against the bus of thousands
Along distance from south south
Not only cheap but safe and fast
To the land of milk and honey.

This train was the unusual type
It traveled twice as fast as light
In the dream I saw an African rail
And I woke up so optimistic
That my country, will soon be great.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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