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I knew the world was so cruel
I spent more than nine months
In the potty womb of my mother
Innocent me, in exculsion for any other.
I was born on a sunday, true
I’m religious, but it’s not my fighting words
I believe solely in God and no other
My life is but series of events in His order.
I was born in October, with no clue
Twelve forty five to be precise
I see life as a battle for a soldier
Fighting his very own life with eachother.
I didn’t choose black or blue
I’m not my hairs, leather, rubber and size
Life is bright, but I was born a thinker
Like my father, finding ways to make dull brighter.
I’m a Deltan, from a blood, pure and true
Flowing through the streams of Africa price
Acquring degrees, one after an other
A sucker of lies, deciet, hatered and fake lover.
I feel lonely at times, many and few
Will wish me down, but I do always arise
I’ve walked roads, wider and narrower
Honestly, all man is a brother and sister.
I’ve walked through fogs, mist and dew
Pleasure and pain, fire hot and cold ice
I’ve been backstabbed by my own shoulder
For I’m eager as greatness, and I don’t bother.
Exams I failed most in life, are those I knew
Each time the phone rings, it turns the dice
I cheer up always even in dreams and when I’m sober
Because on earth, I’m nothing but a humble traveller.
More accurate than a chronograph,
Well analysed than a spectrograph
I’m a dancing sonogram
Gush! The sound is killing
Mimed by the Angels above,
I’m a song written by the hand of God,
Sang by his singing birds,
Life listens that includes you and you
Mind-blowing like deftly,
The errors in his write-up are defunct
Speakers boom ….
Gush! The lyrics is killing
Modal verbs, must, shall, will
These songs he writes about me
Are point-and-kill not a moleskin
Making mountains out of a molehill
Written by Onyeche Vincent E Onyeka
- Palm wine Play
- It was some time ago no pea-cocking or ego
- Innocent and untouched like virgin forest
- Then grasses covered bottles attuned for palm wine
- Flies also sipped, it was creamy and white as milk
- From daddy’s cup the little kids drank
- Inspiring, their play was full of fun
- Pretending to be drunk; if not already
- Staggering, damping the eyes
- Rolling out the eyeballs,
- Stooping and soliloquizing
- Playing with sands, throwing pillows and falling
- Along the long narrow corridor
- Running for more, to daddy’s refilling cup
- To drink the universe large and play all night long.
By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
written by: Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
- I Shall Strive
I will fly
But this time, high
Higher than the butterflies,
Over the sky
The limiting sky
Even if I crash,
Expect no cry.
I will try
Call me all,
A mere fly…
I’m not shy.
Hi, Mr. Sly
My sigh is silent
Served by the shooting stars
And gone astray
In the scorching sun.
Blink your eyes,
My fears are dead
On its orbit, I shall never drop.
written By: Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
In my own dominion, hold me captive
But let my busy hands touch the fret
And the guitar bridge shall weep in joy
But regain your composure, least you shear tears
Brutally, the drumsticks shall beat the drums
Not your hands, my hands shall rebound on the timpani
Compatriots’ beer in mind it isn’t your skin
I slide the bow against its strings
Compared to violin and Piccolo, the cello is big
But, the bogeyman; harp is on his way home
Careful you don’t dance to my marvelous percussion
When I smash the cymbals and shake the Tambourines
Domino effect, boohoo…boo…o…ho…o… You weep
Valve fixed; blooper minimized, my trumpeting is sweet
Close your ears, hear less of my joyful years
For the trombone and tuba, that I blow is loud
Not to forget, curl up in fear and condemn your eyes
Perpetually I’ll keep kissing my lifted trophies
The True Poesy
written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka