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Black lives: #Shithole
I am indifferent about shit hole
It is what we get for having no goal
Failing to develop our own coal homes
Yet posing in white farms as a scarecrow
We have the ores to make long poles
But we chose to cross borders to parole
A modern slave remotely control
Yet we fuss to acrimonious roll
Fetching water with leaking bowls
Filled with lots of lost tadpoles
Coal bad governance unending scroll
I am indifferent about shit hole.
©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Nigeria: Poor black mind
Hope growth is not an hallucination
How did the Whites become diabetic
Economically well structured and nice
Whereas blacks lags; now we auction
Selves, for slavery; legal or illegal
Under the weather of milk and honey.
The internet has become an office
While our gods accepts sacrifices
Kids nowadays cling diabolical ways
Extorting money from folks abroad..
The painful part is, men truly legit
Are but now the riffraff in town…
My country is drying up not because
She fell on the largest of cradle beds
Nor because her leaves and stalks are old
But because she has solely refused
To keep muds far from pigs while trimming leaves
And growing the grey hairs of wisdom.
No metaphor or synedoche can hide
The bad governance these lands have
Hello! are you proud of our sour soups
Yes I am proud to be called an African
Yes I am proud to be called a Nigerian
But I hope my children don’t end up like me.
©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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Last designation: Leaving Home
Not just taking coffee and tea
But I shall like to get on-board and see
On or above the sea,
The equilibrium power of the spring
And feel the snow flakes
From the mute eye sky, as it leaks.
Journeying from villa to Obodo-oyibo; Smiling at my skin and changing flags
For ears heard so much of the sky.
The whites are good
Don’t get me wrong if I turn MJ
For we are all one in different hood.
Love to see from a closer range
The milky, bluesy and rainbows sky
And so it shall be when leaving home.
From that day onwards,
Lightning and thunderstorm scare me not.
Novices I’d once be. But,
The birds and gravity secrets I’ve known
All borrowed customs and traditions
Call me globalization.
From the soil I sow
My kindred shall be born with a silver spoon
Working smart and not hard
I pray they break not the silver cord from home
Please bid me bye, when I will be leaving home.
e-Paper Poetry of Vinx 