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Like tall palm trees

The journey began as a joke
Till giant strides together yoked,
And there we stood, exchanging vows
Inner me smiled, exclaiming; wow !!!

Like a palm tree gallantly firm
Amidst the dust, and in the storm
Growing so tall, far from a fall
Never scared of heavy down pour

Instead making rich palm wine sap
And thick red oil that never slaps
May we never be affected
By seasons, no matter how red.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Sonnet: Vinify 19 (My wedding day toast)

Purple and silver
Everyone glitters
April twentytwo
Today I walk down
The Aisle, is the
Beginning of bliss;
Sweet vinify wine

Happy we wear
Walking on air;
So crystal clear
Two destined hearts;
Fusing as one
So shall it be;
Till eternity.

#vinify 19

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

Autobiography of me

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.

Me, A Song Written By God

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
(C) 2012

Native Fly: Palmwine Play

Palm Wine

Palm Wine

    Palm wine Play
  1. It was some time ago no pea-cocking or ego
  2. Innocent and untouched like virgin forest
  3. Then grasses covered bottles attuned for palm wine
  4. Flies also sipped, it was creamy and white as milk
  5. From daddy’s cup the little kids drank
  6. Inspiring, their play was full of fun
  7. Pretending to be drunk; if not already
  8. Staggering, damping the eyes
  9. Rolling out the eyeballs,
  10. Stooping and soliloquizing
  11. Playing with sands, throwing pillows and falling
  12. Along the long narrow corridor
  13. Running for more, to daddy’s refilling cup
  14. To drink the universe large and play all night long.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

written by: Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2012
(D²rupoesy)℠ thetruepoesy™

I Shall Strive

    I Shall Strive

I will fly
Like butterflies
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
And tricky.

My sigh is silent
Served by the shooting stars
And gone astray
In the scorching sun.

Blink your eyes,
Mr. Starry-eyed
My fears are dead
On its orbit, I shall never drop.


written By: Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

Coming Of The Bogeyman

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

(C) 2010
The True Poesy

written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

Chocholate Skin

Most gorgeous skin
Of my kith and kin
The best in the line
The best of hides

Most gorgeous skin
Finest they’ve seen
The best of brown
The beauty in tan

Poetic gesture
Mail to my kin
Good quality gel
Reflects from the shin

Their thigh and groin
Reveals inheritance
Chocolate skin
Sexy defined hips

My soft spot
My hot hide
Most gorgeous skin
Of my kith and kin

(C) 2009
The True Poesy

written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka

Happy Birthday

There is just a moment in life for memoirs
Memoirs of a perfect timing
Memoirs for Mr. & Mrs
Mum and dad to be precise
Memoirs for the world
Angels and God
Who sent their words
During the day
Night I think…..
Written with chalk and ink
Memoirs of a perfect timing
An offspring in pink
With cakes and candles
Disco like celebration
Soon becomes an anniversary
Anniversary for you and I
Today marks another day
Of a perfect number
Joy and happiness
Birthdays are for you and I.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
(C) 2012

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

Unintentional Existence: The Day I Die

The Day I Die
I Wonder,
I Wonder…
The Applauses And Folded Hands
Tears That Must Have Seeded Onto The Sands
Texture Of Woods Underneath The Lands
The Day I Die
I Wonder.

I Wonder
The Attire The Motionless Body Abode
Tabby Bodies In Stripes
Turning Grey All The Way
Tangs From An Organic Being
The Flesh So Protected Decay
I Wonder,
The Number Of Bacterial Satisfied.

The Day I Die
I Wonder,
If The Angels Would Rejoice Or Cry
Top And Bottom, Which Would I Path
Thankful I Would Be,
Though My Flesh Feels Not
I Wonder…
If I would Recur It Is The Common Factor We All Share.

By Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
(C) 2012

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