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Sonnet for a goddess

I used to think, beauty had a key
Unlocked by wealth and artificial quay

I never knew goddess exist, I assumed
Most beautiful girls in town were doomed.

I saw them as prostitutes that got laid
Until my presumptions finally failed.

I didn’t just meet beauty but a good lady
Tall like the hills and body hot like chilli

Her thick hips were round like an arc
In her acts, I saw a godly covenant ark

Hence I fell at her feet to worship her
Not just for her unforgettable wonders

Neither for her ravishing and freezing gaze
But; because she gave me a brand new phase.

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

She is sitting pretty

Not every girl
Is hot as hell

Sitting pretty
No one contest

She is so blessed
Best of the rest

Like the rainbows,
Her beauty shows

It never fades
It beats all grades.

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

The beauty debates

We take some pictures
A group photograph
We hit upload tabs
Going after likes
We swipe for comments
Complimenting us;
Each person focus
On self compliments.

Awareness drops low
Self illusion rises
“Others are ugly”
Debate continues
Personal mirrors
Acknowledges self
As finest of all
Hotter than the Sun.

Whereas all images
Hanging in timeframe
From holistic view
All have pretty looks
Yet we are all bias
Looking only self
But all; zooming out
The beauty in all.

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

Tales Of A Wife: Her Plaint Body

At the front of her
She has got that thing
That makes you feel
You are in a state of defrost
Permafrost or a frozen hell.
Then if she passes by
I swear
You will hail sunshine.

Like a willing perdition,
Тake me through hell
So long she’s there,
It is a painless pain
Pick and mix
Spectacular compliment: Sure it is!
Her body is a case
That gets a plaintiff busy.

Plethora fine,
She’s a blissful nightmares
Her body is
A keen evil philanthropist
Petrified is ugly where beautiful she is
So cute like the dickens,
Aphrodite picks up a pen
What’s the ingredient of her fine?

With tangs of flowers,
The doves fly around her:
Oh! what a beauty;
That withers the root of setback
Without a mirror,
No eye sees itself
But her case is out of the shelf.

Her Jewelry Box

  • Part 1

For a pragmatic approach to measuring such greats
It has a seven all stars rating
The giver of hope, main cause of lovelorn
She always smile with her teeth as white as snow
Could it be her jewelries, blisses, and sinuous acts
A stolen glance at her parcel is a starry-eyed
Peace obtained: like bow against violin strings
Twinkles and blinks like the stars in the sky
I wonder if she is a fallen angel…
An affection so conformed and tempting:
She is as tempting as the box she beholds
The autumnal colored jewelry box reflect her blonde hairs
Pretty is she and the definition of what she wears.


  • Part 2

So divine the multicolored anklets,
Bracelets and bangles reflects the look of the angels
It is a Justifiable Pride. Remember J

Stacked in the boxes’ wooly holes;
Fingers wish to be detained in the rings 
It is enormously powerful. Remember E

Assorted collections of the wristwatches
With hindsight, the manufacturers wish they hadn’t sold it out.
It is a wellspring of attraction. Remember A


The glamour of the string African beads,
Pearl necklaces, golden and silver charm bracelets;
Saliva drops from  a wide-open mouth:  ’tis an extrovert. Remember E

The beauty of the lockets,
Medallion and pendant, blesses her neck.
What a leviathan of abundant beauty. Remember L

The hoop and clip-on earrings  
Have a figure of the catamaran.
It is Reliable. Remember R.


The decoration of the brooch gives her a flaunting beauty;
Yep!, I got a Y
And she is her Jewelry box the definition of who she is.






The True Poesy

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