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On shallow waters
I cast pillar
A pillar of salt
That says a lot…

Tall walls I built
Against your nails
But by the corner
I dropped a ladder

Each time we fight
I slam the door
But never really
Bolted the door…

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu


Impact is sun-shower, raining and bright
In all there is, it is worth it
It amplifies the sweetness in sugar beet.

There are times, right might be wrong
The best of love, is an unreached tongue
Thick or thin; it could be short or long.

Are you scared of a running emotion
All you need is to impact a good notion
All relationships dwell on good transactions

No, you don’t need to extort all men
Neither should you breed low esteem
Nails don’t screw every wood it aims,

You get pretty much what you give
Yorks comes from eggs, Adam had Eve
Yes, love may come and love may leave

And with oneness comes a warmness
Are you still waiting for heavenly sigh
An impact will take relationship high.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Could this be love

Could this be love, I crave all day,
Could this be love, to know your ways,
You are an egg and Roses on tray
If this is love, I need no pay…
But push harder for more time play.

Could this be love that makes me pray?
For you to look my eyes that sways
Could this be love, no words to say
But fantasies that misbehaves
To a point we lay by a grave.

Could this be love that turns me lame
Eachtime my wax burnout of flame
Seeing your face, hearing your name…
Could this be love, sugar with pain
Brain so crazy, simple and plain.

Title: Could this be love
Author: Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
© 2017, Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Form: 8-8-8-8-8
Lines: 15 lines

For you

Eachtime you move, time stands still
You are so pure and so well distilled;
Impressively, if you were to be drilled
You’ll be a price target that can’t be killed;
For you, the ice shall blaze and the fire will chill.

In love kitchen, like a Chef, I’ll cook you a meal
With love recipe and admiration as grill;
I’ll write you a poem and sing to your thrill,
Show you skills and fetch you a bluegill,
The bills I’ll pay, for your gallery freewill.

Without them, no you and is my life unfulfilled;
Ravishingly, your beauty on heal, is high as a hill;
And if you were a milk, you’ll never be spilled,
You as a poison, I’ll go for a steady refill,
And if your love is an illness,  I’ll pop no pill…
For you are, my existence and holygrill.

Tales Of A Wife: Elope

He is the smartest guy in town
Always cosy in actions and words
Loves everything in heels and skirt
So long the pretty is a love to hunt

An angel so handsome and caring
Hi… he calls out and they all reply
First let’s be friends
Then the love fly out

This guy gives the comfort
Dizzy does when it rains
To his beholder he is
But the question still remains

Liking things young for his age
Clean, sexy, fresh; last dance he saves
He digs, he picks and earns
But when will he pop the question?

Their hots getting cooler
The mister elopes
Women are not men,
Holding at the short end of the stick,

Who time made faithful to religion,
kneels on sands, praying day and night;
The monthly bleeding of unused reds
Don’t wash off the sandy clock of life.

Love, Never Enough

Love like Money
Takes time
Love like Honey
Taste fine
Love likes the Devil
So stays blind
Love likes Heavens
Soul plane high
Love like Poisons
Makes drowning caskets
Love like Medicine
Makes a dunk shot
Please kill not yourself Romeo
Because you’ll never get enough.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
(c) 2011 http://onyecheonyeka.wordpress

Cock: Let My Hen Be

This is base on relationship. Here, there is a use of an imagery; cock. He protects what is his by warning the other roosters to stay of his hen. When reading this, please picture a cock, trying to get his way through a hen. On the contrary, another cock claims ownership of the hen a real cock, strong enough to win in the walk.

New Kid on the block     —-     newcomer to a place

Head in the block     ——     To sale at auction

Turn back the hand of time—–     Rewind time

Cock of the walk     —–     one who dominates others within a group

In dock             —–     Out of action for repair

Soda to hock         —–     Beginning to end

Leave my block         —–     Leave my Terrain


Cock: Let My Hen Be


Ay you young and growing cock

Be no new kid on the block

That doesn’t know the hen for the Cock

Put not your head on the block

I’m still that red comb big-cock


Red signs no turning back the clock

She’s belongs to the cock of the walk

Leave my hen or go in dock

Stop watching her feathers-out like a hawk

I’ll hunt you down from soda to hock


Ay you young and growing cock

Watch the clock, leave my block

I’m still that ruddy bigly cock

Cock-a-doodle-doo that hen is mine

Ay young roosters and little chicks.



By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

© 2011 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com



Flowers Bloom and Fade Away

Yesterday I read a heave sigh

From two beautiful candy friends

One’s voice deep and romantic

The other soft like elastic

With a pair of golden lips

As sweat as red cherries;


Yesterday they had laughter’s

Inviting like temptation

Reminding the aged of the infantile

Remarks that could tears fill the tile;

‘Rome was built not in a day; let’s give it a try’,

They sigh.


Next day I got a headache

From two bitterly barking dogs

Deep, harsh, light and loud

‘Dad … Mum!!!

It will never work; let’s call it off’

They mull.


Today I read yet another sigh

Like tomorrow, yesterday, birthdays,

Christmas and New Year’s Eve

Two beautiful candy friends

Holding candles by the cradle


Hope it’s not another part of a pack

For flowers to bloom and fade away




        By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

        © 2010 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com

I wish I had missed

Tickles other girls respond to

So I touch, stroke and poke

Expecting the splendours of a spasmodic laughter

All I ever get is just a waste of time.

I wish I had missed the first time that we spoke

For there is nothing to remember in an overlook

I wish I had missed the first time that we poked

For there is nothing to remember but an angry look

I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed

For there is nothing to remember but just a hiss

I wish I had missed the first time that we touched

There is nothing to remember in a mere child touch.


? By Onyeche Vincent onyeka

(c) 2010 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com

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