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  • In its colored Ink, chalk, and voice box, it echoes
    The names that runs after fathers and sons
    Stinging the muscular and vulgar tongue
    Noticed at the rear of identification
  • Drumming hard, it forces my willing mind into palpitating
    Unconsciously my neck swivel and bend
    It forbids my legs at a standstill, but move
    I dance to the true Africa samba
  • Picking the best of all colorful wrappers, cowries, shrines and its endowment
    Whistling and braying sure we know not but heyday
    The vixen roast, the ram smells good, the wine is natural
    The plebeians’ lives in love waggishly forgetting sorrows
  • written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    The Girl I first Love

    The Girl I first Love


    When she’s blonde haired,

    Beauty is green-eyed

    As I touch her chocolate skin

    Slim and slender

    Her all natural body


    Her hair is Africa-dark



    America-style; braided

    Australia-peaceful paradise


    Strutting across my sight like vision

    She is the air I breathe

    The ghost to miss

    She is the perfect choice

    She is give and take


    I enjoy her natural tits,

    High-energy moves

    She is my most intimate affection!

    An absolute killer beauty

    One of the very best

    Nature is the first girl I love.



    By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

    © 2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com

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