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Jars of scars

A round of applause for my skin
That tells of places that I’ve been
The pinching pains witnessed and seen
As an adult and as a teen
Battles I won and didn’t win
Are fulcra of my flapping wings
I’ve been battered by troubled seas
Lost my feathers and lost my fins
Scratched by tiggers, smoked by kilns
Picking stains that can’t be cleaned
I’ve lost my nails in quaking scenes
Under the bridge is where I’ve been…
I’m a board of bruise and blisters
Gotten from sharks and accipiters
I’ve swam in the deadliest waters
Precluding weights on my shoulders
Shedding sweats and making blunders
I’ve bled on all stones and flowers
Even on same spots and corners
That gave me scars I remember
Round of applause for the monster
Who happens to be a painter,
I see him now as a teacher
And judge him not by his cover…
Lessons I learned from all my scars
Are never the same in my jar
Not even an exploding maar
Or scars firm as harmattan cheddar
Wider than oceans or dark as tars
Can stop me from loving these scars
Outward or within, low or high
On the verge of life’s draining bars
I don’t care if a trocar
Comes plucking off all I garnered;
A life lived without scars and chars
Is like being a stringless guitar.
© 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
When to stop chasing money
We all did
Travel light
To the world..
Carrying
Only our
Nakedness…
Though all things
Come to end
Here on earth
There are none
That ever
Can complete
The short race
Chasing cash
To an end.
(c) 2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
A shot in the dark
I wish I could get to the end of the space
Lean by its edge; seeing all, right on my face,
Not just the stars and rocks, but to visualize
All the possibilities life can realize…
Maybe I would realize things wide off the mark
And not by blind faith nor whistles in the dark
Aside religions are there aliens up there
Or is it only tailored here on this sphere?
I stay rooted on earth, but I smell a rat
Though imaginary but it is a fact
For answers to be gotten, the end of space
Would have an interpretation of our faith.
But my fate wouldn’t take me to space to smell
The rum, raspberry, gunpowder and steak seared,
Nor unravel the mystery of darkness,
Light’s untold purpose and everything else.
©2020 https://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
Blown to go
Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear
Some are higher touching the sky
Some just spread out their wings to fly.
Others are fighting to be light
Obviously none is ever right
Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear.
Whether we are, or not off the ground
When it gets to our turns and rounds
Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear.
Like floating feathers in the air
Lovely we always will appear
Till gravity draws us to floor
This life is not balance at all.
©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
A painter called Earth
All memoirs fade, and goes with breath
Allowing more heads to grace the earth
Till time wash the memories off
There are wonders in paint and brush.
©2020 http:// vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
Sonnet: Losing touch
Once upon a time, we were blank
Out of an art, experience sank
We had bath and dance in the rain
We cut cakes and acted insane
There was this feeling that we had
Taking us places from our minds
Body to body, current flew
By desire our hearts we drew
Young and agile, fast we ran
Yeah! we felt all can’t was can
Love was fresh, until we forgot
Love we lost and the pains we felt
Time ran fast, gradually we blank
The act and rain water we drank.
©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
Question by the graveyard
I wonder where babies come from
I wish they could beat their drums
We will not wonder where to go
When withered and covered in holes.
Since none of us forever stays
So will I be wrong if I say
We all were never here on earth
Worrying over how death felt.
©2020 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
Cruel case of mankind
On a special day, breathe we found
Of course yes, we must have cried
We did not know when we were born
Worries were not ours, we were young.
As life may, we followed the tide
And do not know when we will die
Though some may luckily bid bye
The stream of tears never runs dry.