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I need a testimony

The heavy laden is great inside
Troves of treasures chose other sides
I have searched far and wide
But victory is locked and made to hide.

A wonder last but for nine days
This time around pain made the hays
I have prayed against worried mind
Should I say, Heaven is deaf and blind.

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

Shredding pistils

On a mirage, I go gazing
It seems am evanescing
Into shadows of myself
Playing sad songs of faulty clef

I heard you mock my empty belly
Not all flowers bloom that early
Night and day, both can not be on
At same time, hence they take turns

Keep your polishes to yourself
I have accepted I am the shelf
Which termites have so devoured
An also-ran, am not favored

But in all gains, there is a pain
And when I fail now and again
Let’s just say, my success delays
Fruits shall come out from my decay.

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


I don’t measure success
By darts exceeding flits
Or flawless victories
Nor the gold that you wear
But; the hands that you pull.

I don’t measure success
By the cost of your cars
Or the size of the house
Nor the scent that you wear
But; impetus you have.

I don’t measure success
By the cents that you spend
Or volume that you fetch
Nor the amount of your sweat
But; the life that you touch.

I’m Pregnant

I ride on the road
I float on the sea
I wasn’t even told
I sail with such a load.

Times are quite challenging
I don’t get it, yet I fly too,
But I keep on swimming:
I may be stupid but a no fool.

Day and night, I flow fast
And I flow slow, so tell my story
Above the waters of life engine
Eying at my compass of self-discovery.

But who would I be?
Definitely not stagnant…
With or without a tool, I am pregnant
Soon I shall give birth to me.

Rotten Seeds Springs

I’m a man of my word
Beaten over the head
Stabbed with a sword

Knocked down,
Vilified and torn

Into audible pieces
Trash and useless fabrics
And for many many years,

I stayed stagnant
Demoralised at a spot.
Life’s hard, became a fact

On this ground I lay
In creed, all the way
Knowing that one faithful day

My cold feet and lifeless nerves
With that very few water drops;
Sprung shall be of the rotten seeds…

Then from flowers to fruits,
I shall rise above their roofs
Till then; I am, the rotten seeds.

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