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Nigeria: Twenty-third Century Blackman

His culture he held high
Until globalisation
Which is the narrow line
Between sanity and
Insanity widened.

There goes the Century man
Clean in words, stained in conscience,
Conducting church crusades
With thick red blood and guts
Disgorging from his hands.

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

Sonnets: Nothing but a whorl

Beauty obstructing traffic
Cozy cute city Chic’s
Cat walking, half naked,

Pick on fashion is your trick
To make pockets begin to leak…
All wrongs may not end tragic
Be sure you get that you seek.

Spend a gold, get a meat
I still can’t get over it
…What joy is there in a flirt.

Gambling with tomorrow
Spreading legs for some Kobo
And still you do not know
You are nothing but a whorl.

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

Masochistic World

Back on the bed
Job on the hand..!
Get it all peel
For an offer;
If you can pull
I give you a thumb.

These sadists trend
Ungodly trade
Picking up nail
And long hammer
To grab a bull,
By its own horn.

Failure cum pain
Breeds bad results
And evil deed;
All for good end
She bows and bend…

I hope it shall
Condense and rain;
Why take graduates…
Through hell for bread?
Please be reminded;
You shall be judged.

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

Three way junction

I woke up into an age called today
To see life recolored in dark grey
With ministers, prophets and reverends
Hiding skeletons in their cupboards.

Walking along the short road of life
I see hands with blood stained knifes
Dripping and calling for a fetish backup;
By the faces of the cream cleaned up.

So if the rich tell you their secret
You may wish to remain in the street
Where you sleep with both eyes close
Not frightened by shadows in clothes.

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

The Devil in me

Hard as a beetle
Offensive weevil
With a courteous voice
Wild yet mild in sounds

I met the devil
From deep inside me
In friendly manner,
We poured our hearts out

We calmly conversed
And heard each other out
The questions we asked
Feed woods to the axe…

Nothing came holier
As our ice calmed ox
Or even finer,
As our fire rode horse

We were but a face
Running the same race
With different names
Coming out from us.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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