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A voice from Nigeria

Nothing will make me grab a rope
Just because my world hit the slope
I might have not been to Europe

But I do not have to go suicidal
Just because of someone else’s potential
Although I have not been to Asia

But before Butterfly was Caterpillar
I have to grow and not think of Antarctica
In Africa, for I have not been to Australia

Nothing will make me empty a bar
Simply because I have no luxury car
I might have not been to America

But my ink and papers have traveled
And my poetic voice have been heard
By different races across the world.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The Thirteenth President: Shameful 2020

It was the year two thousand and seven
But back then in time, we saw thirteen years
As a far throw, and couldn’t comprehend his plans

But, as days went by, the Roaster crowed
And today, year Twenty twenty came our way
With no duffle bags and no gathered hay…

Meeting us while we are shadows of ourselves
Dwelling in intense hunger and confusions
Multiplying both poverty and corruption

With an high rate of unemployment,
Moribund heritage and high cyber crime
Oozing strongly from us all the time.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The Thirteenth President: Vision twenty twenty

I witnessed a man of many creeds and zero greed
Who wanted all squirrels to have a nut
A thoroughbred politician but good things last not.

Though, before he sailed away he spoke of
His dream; titled vision twenty twenty
A year when Nigeria shall have plenty.

Reclaiming all her sweet heritages
Turning Niger Delta into heavenly city
And for northeast, mitigate insecurity.

He had a dream to provide uninterrupted supply
Of power and energy, increase employment
And enhance infrastructural development.

These were all on a three point agenda,
Seeming like a hook on repetition
That would take us to redemptions

Just like yesterday, I remember him say;
Economy, economy and economy…
In short, vision twenty, twenty.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The Thirteenth President: Ya’radua

Before Barrack Obama of America
We had ours, an indefatigable man
That never stole from our rich barn.

Late President Ya’radua of Nigeria
The thirteenth President precisely
From Kastina, all he did were wisely.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Years of Buharism

Oh Nigeria, my Nigeria
Do we have to be rooted here
Is it bad to have faith in you
When denial is long over due.

We prayed for growth to be better
But tides of grief spread all over
Washing our faiths, replacing hopes
With bullets and some suicide ropes

We prayed for capable leaders
The ones who would be our Messiahs
But we got pins in our buttocks
Hurting much more than we can talk

Dead butterflies in our stomach
Breeds sufferings we used to lack
Our eye sockets are wet and soaked
With force of tears that erupt rocks.

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

Shredding Shield

I grew up reciting the motto of Nigeria
Unity and faith; peace and progress…
Now unity is threatened by our faiths and believes
While peace and progress have both gone to voicemail.

There was this pleasure I derived from drawing
Our Coat of Arm, encoding natural resources
By shading shield black to symbolize our rich soil
Which ought to be our blessings but now, our greatest curse.

There was this satisfaction I got inhaling fragrances
From the abundant flowers that symbolized our beauty
Damn, we are gorgeous! but those days are gone
Ever since the shield broke and flowers began to wither.

There was this confidence I had while growing up
I felt super secured in the pockets of two wings.
Please did you see the Eagle that stood for our strength?
Not these shredded weak feathers falling off from the top.

There was this pleasure I derived from staring
At our great Coat of Arm, I craved to ride on
The left and right horses that symbolized our
Pride and dignity but now, the craving is in the grave.

I grew up admiring the mark on the shield
Which symbolized two great flowing Rivers
That met at a centre, that once upon a time held
The great and mighty; Nigeria, until things fell apart.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Fifty-nine shades of green

I know of a Nation celebrating fifty-nine
An aftermath of tears, especially mine
Daily, multitudes run away, even foetus will
Rebuke the Nation as if it were the Devil’s kill.

Obviously, this is Nigeria, anything can happen
Every independence day, makes me saddened
Evil that men did in the past is always reborn
Why wouldn’t flowers wither when the Sun is gone

Hate or love it, I’m a Nigerian to the fullness
It is not that I love the pains and the darkness
Neither is it that I can not run away but I got to know
That Nigeria is a marshmallow on many roles

Getting into the characters played by the politicians,
You and I who live lawlessly, taking a chance
Sunset and sunrise, tomorrow will be better so I feel..
No matter how thick our blankets impeding growth may be

We will one day, wake up to see we arrived
Into a city of our dreams and our strives;
Rome wasn’t built in a day, let’s get to it
And abort the years of pain, so Nigeria will be great.

Happy independence day! Nigeria

Http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Does being good pay?

A bad penny always turns up..
I once believed, bad trees do not
Yield good apples, but I was wrong
When I saw men disturbing peace
Breaking black pipes, blowing up streets
Fetching from the National cake.

I saw “Malams”, apprehending men
Slitting sacrificial lambs,
Terrorizing the governments.
I saw folks, blending in dark bushes
Joining the gangs causing havoc;
The type that makes the Devil proud.

Funnily, those we call miscreants
Are to governments, faithful ants
To keep them hush, they grease their palms
Flying them out as amnesty
Coming back, they even contest
Dictating for governance.

But here we are as good people
Eating the scraps and leftovers
Of the miscreants who live large.
Good conscience may be good pillow
Certainly not in our headless
Societies, with so much unrest.

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

City of hardship

I grabbed a bull’s horn
It is no more fun
Please should God return
Let Him remember me
Devil don’t feel
Pains life got on me
Dried tank in my car
Same brush, the same tar
Living in Africa.

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

Perfect combination

When the wind whirls, everything unfreezes
Easy like; a, b, c… one, two, three…
Underneath the tranquil sky so blue
The rain showers then two birds flew
From separate spaces finding shelter
Or a spot where droplets don’t bother.

Singing sweet songs that is far from grief
The melanin hid under green leaf
Like it was predestined, fine and raw,
They met by chance, and fell deep in love
It must be the wind; maybe the rain
That matched them up; some people will say.

Certainly, the wind made it fonder
While the raindrops, wiped off all blunders
Birthing a clean slate of obsession
Nurturing new sets of emotion
Great as the black beautiful look
Blessings they got on each other’s hook.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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