Vincent Onyeche Poems

The hurricane blew me
I stood and endured
When I couldn’t withstand anymore
I allowed, permitted, and submitted
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I just wish I could dial
A number before I die
To resay words that weren’t white-lie
No lie we really were suit and tie.
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How come we’re still alive?
After no count poison-pen
Union of no anniversary but dungeon
When did it start when would it end?
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Dear Esther,
You are the finest of ebony no lie
God broke the mould after he created you so fine
Innocent gaze;
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The hooting call from the owls at war
Penetrates through the concrete wall.
Idiotic, useless and hopeless windbag
At each other, forenames they throw back.
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Imagine a faultless world
All Titans no odds
Ugly is a lost word
No rural but urban well-born
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If monday comes next
Sunday o what a day
Saturday is over,
So good to say
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Born in the southern part of Nigeria
My name isn’t imprinted like Awolowo to Naira
Neither is my handwriting in the dollar
But I sing ‘great Delta’
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Oh! Look at her
I tell a lie
On a lie we lie
How do I explain?
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A grave image,
She feels this is according to Hoyle
That I’m her house and home 
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