Vincent Onyeche Poems

It's a dirty game... What is it?
From freedom to chains and tattoos
From speak up to shut up by guns
Then speak up democracy is born
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Not all Africans are dark
I know you've heard the dogs bark
And watched tails wag in front of strangers,
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I have drank from the cups of bitter julep
And had nausea and lullaby make me fall asleep
Human bleeds but my hard soul has a soft ship
Hence I don't vend to high tides but blend
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Can anyone accurately tell
Who the most prettiest is?
For me... No such thing as best
The world is round with no sharp ends
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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
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It did amuse you catching a butterfly
Colourfully wonderful
Not willing to let go,
With a partially open hands,
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It glows in the glove and grows like a clove
But hidden like a treasure trove
In forever is his endless love
You find a trove in a mud without a glove.
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You thought me to reach
For the surface of a sea
Watching wonders
Swim within me.
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​On top notch
Sweet memos of honeybee
I recall the clay houses
We moulded on the hill;
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I'm irritated
By religion injustice
Holy extremist,
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