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Politics: The city hall

The rate of fresh blood is overwhelming
With enthusiasms always rising
While the toddlers grow to have wisdom teeth
The city hall in power never fleets.

It is not just the strange bedfellows
Neither the dirt part that always follow
But it is the impunity they have
Siphoning our resources while they serve.

Youthfulness is there to always savour
Although we have numbers in our favor
We just can never fight the city hall
Because they plant discord between us.

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

Behind the throne

Without the lands
The sky is a space
Just empty and void.

Without the subjects
A king is an object
Sitting just there

Without the light
Vision is but null
An unending dark.

In as much as
Power is a crown
Behind the throne

It needs the weak
And the impotent
To stay relevant.

©2018 vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sea in storm

Cheers to my head shaped nation
Lying on the bed of roses…
In Lugard’s unification.
Three tribes wry for the best
That was; slavery annexation,
Your fathers and mothers must have smiled.

Cheer-up, the worst is yet to come
Not for long, snow skins had to go
Hearts sees what brain know not
Green and white Eagles flip flopped a storm
Men are what their mother made them…
But, what was her goal?

Drink on, I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.
Eagles meant celebrating with the storm.
Tribune must have turned, issuing tribulation.
East now tweets “why not serve in stand and wait”
West had issues with same power.
Hold a man down, you have to stay down.

Drink for that he has is better than ours
South south wealth and loses
North masked no joke grenades
Religion and crises,
Boko Haram is to them what perfume is to flowers.
My headshaped nation has a sea in a storm.

(C) 2012
The-True-Poesy

written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

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