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The virgin heartbreaker

She is a lady so beautiful
Endowed with lots and all.
Searching for love so true
At same time, scared to fall
In love with the wise and fools.

The complexity of her laden
Is the membrane between her legs
Never been touched nor dredged;
Although men feel sadden
When she sticks to “no” in bed.

She claims not to be ready
For even an aisle walk with any;
Hence today, to love, she agrees
And tomorrow, like a penny
Empty; she packs and leaves.

Ain’t no commitment but burns
Rotating hearts bitter she turns
Walking away from all doors
Taking her lovers for only chum
Because none has ever held her bum.

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

Broken Keyboard

I heard you screaming
“ I am scared of the withered roses “!

So you hide behind close doors
But how can you have love tour

When you are scared of feelings
And frightened by butterflies….

The narrow window of love
Yes has a gullible lock

But it is open to numerous lucks
You don’t have to trust anyone

But start by trusting someone
If you need a special one.

©2018 vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Outgrown love

The you I knew
Was moonlight fine…

She sang “she’s mine”
With angelic smile

The you I knew
Was next in line

Beyond miracles
Love was her sign

Eternal flame
Sigh was Raven

Flying in sky
With an open eye

And her sweet kiss
Behind the scene

Was beauty real
Taste of heaven.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Love was

They say
Love is
A collision
Of hearts,
But to us
A pollution
By size,
The pores
We leaked.

Sixth sense
Of grapes
Bright light
Beautiful Apes
Fifty shades
Of color fades
Love we made
Was like
Heads and braids.

Love forever
A feeling felt
Until we lost
Its sense to
Sweet sour
Lesson learnt
The eyes picked
Who to love
And the heart
Can rejected it…

Roses and guns
Love was
All we ever felt
It was meant
To be our scent
It was a bullet
It was the heat
Till the warmth
Of two hearts
Began to melt…

Minutes to midnight

Minutes to midnight


Minutes to midnight

I sat alone by the dim light

Hoping love hold me tight

My viewpoint a flying nylon kite

Fragile to the harsh moonlight

I hoped to end the year by Love-side

Network played its part

Angels of love passed out

My pains filled my heart


Minutes to midnight

Love pulled my underwear

Love touched my breast

I touched Loves’ drive-part

I felt nowhere but habitat

I felt Loves presence

Love felt my warmth

I smelt Loves perfume

Love collapsed on me.


Minutes to midnight

I feel felt that night

Loves phone rang out

Network played its part

Absence in sense of duty

After the music stopped

I was Val-less at Valentines Day

I lost Love eyes.

I wept that night


Minutes to midnight

White and black

Love presented it to me

I read the note,

Slow but fast

Cranberries and fact

My skirt curdled

I sat alone by the dim light

Hoping love hold me tight


Minutes to midnight

The full moon halved

The stars vanished

The sun shined

The cock crowed

The roads folded

A rush of blood to the head

A rush of beat to the heart

A rush of red to the eyes


If this is the end of love

I die a minutes to midnight.






  • A moment they see through
  • And at another,
  • It is opaque.
  • Two-timing,


  • Love is depraved
  • Frozen,
  • The hearts drummed hard as though it were a time-bomb.
  • Caught red-handed in action,


  • Immediately the arouse dampened.
  • Tears cover the white shining eyeballs
  • And ready to roll.
  • Crystal clear,


  • It formed a transparent ball flakes
  • That with the fear of loosing someone dear,
  • The eyelashes blinked
  • Making the tears to flush


  • Along the channels beside the nose.
  • Obeying gravity,
  • The droplets landed in the hot black tea,
  • It rocked the cup


  • and gently faded away.
  • Unfaithfulness …
  • The sound of a broken heart,
  • Under the pain of death


  • Fame by the flame;
  • It measure its height with the elms.
  • Shame of the same,
  • It either salaams or lure the elms to be gone with the wind.


  • So much to give, a shame to see two folks argue and cry
  • Making the word ‘you use to’
  • Be frequent.
  • A shame to say it’s over;


  • And babyish to cry a river
  • The love that was thought to be true
  • Got speared and broken.
  • No more laughter sounding like the sliding glasses


  • Nor as though it were from a laughing jackals’,
  • No more weaknesses,
  • No more sacrifices,
  • And no more care


  • Changing …
  • The storyline is tragic
  • Nothing is permanent
  • Loosen love,


  • treacherous affair.
  • Still,
  • The pleasant fragrances of Perfumes
  • Is etched in the mind.

By Onyeche Vincent onyeka

© 2009

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