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Best Poems Written by Billy Mlonda

Below are the all-time best Billy Mlonda poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

Lights in the light

Souls, beautiful souls, hidden
They shine lazily in the spotlight
At dusk fall, their luminosity is of hope
And our gauges of distress drop

Hearts, loving hearts, delicate
Filled with love enough for a few more
When broken by the heedless hands
They stoop, behind walls, gathering their patches

People, a caring people, friends
They came as strangers to impact this life
Their generosity is like soundless bells
One hand gives, the other blindfolded

Lights, lazy rights, glow
The light for a symbol of humble beings
Beings everyone prays for
They glow when you need them, and when you don’t 

Just as carriers, blessings pass through them
Ungratefulness doesn’t hinder them
Delayed by giving, they would have been rich
I pray, for more into their basket of blessing
Earth has daughters, and you are one peculiar 

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2019



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No worries for tomorrow

To the flowers that never get hold of turgidity
Even with the morning dew
Its faded petals once enjoyed a bright youth
It lived, while it had to and forgot of the later rains
Hurry! To the single moms, formerly “slay queens”
They spent their all to the seductive Swag hood, Fools
Get old to get wiser, sorry for the principle,
You are not to blame

To the future we will never participate
I cry for your fate, we never thought you were real
We robbed your generation, and created a chasm between
We were living our destiny so we stand corrected
Quixotically we planned your present,
So long as it filled the pocket of the absurd torch bearers
Its sustainability didn’t matter, not to them
We are sorry that you will still be submissive to neocolonialism
Get old to get wiser, I guess there are exceptions

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2018

Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

Choices

To be, or not to be
To do or not to do
To head ahead, or cease
To blossom, to wear out,
To fight, to loose, to stand, 
To fall, to rise again, to trust
To grow… to love.

It’s all laid before you,
A day more of your existence
Adds more to the clouded shelf of choices
There is more if it’s a year more
Confusion; it comes in with more picks
When the weak and the strong are known
Not only for the right selections,
Even in the wrong ones.

Crap hands for yourself
Write a letter to your heart
Praise it for the Job well done 
For two decades and a day
Hurry! To the queen, it’s never easy
Make your pick, as long as you are happy
As long as the smile doesn’t fade
So long as it doesn’t deform that beautiful 
face

You don’t always get to choose
Some choices are God’s to make
Some things are worth trying
Some fears are not fears, rather signs
Some days are a sign too
Some people deserve a room in your heart
Some words are best understood when done

To more years of happiness
To more years of peaceful sleeps
To more years of friendship even more
To more years of “boys lie”
To more years of beauty

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2018

Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

Differently Different

A paper and a pen 
I need a few to tell stories of my pain 
Not of what has passed 
But of that which is to come 
If this isn’t a curse tell me what it is 
Pink skin yet of my father’s race 
No melanin even on the hair on my face 
I fear the sun, it doesn’t favor my kind 
I fear the dark; it plays games with my mind 
And I fear my own people,  
That I’m a man they don’t mind 
"People-phobic,
I thought they were brothers "
Maybe not anymore because they have places to go, 
Houses to build, cars to buy, 
A life to live, food to dine; 
Because they think I am the gateway to Jacuzzis 
That my bones are a fortune worth taking a life for 
I was only born different as my purpose was, different 

Should I scream? Should I mourn? 
Should I call the pastor to do my eulogy? 
Should I be waiting for another sunset? 
Maybe bid farewell to the melodies from the air? 
How long should I be living in terror? 
For we never know, who and when it will be 
Brothers are slaying brothers 
Whom shall I trust? The police? 
Who is to blame? The neediness? 

Should I cover my skin from the sun? 
And hide my skin from your sons? 
If I had dark skin, I would breach 
To save my skin, and ease mama’s worries 
But this pale cocoon will take me to the grave  
Save me, I am a son and a brother too 
I am a mother, and a patriot too 
I have dreams, and a future ahead 
I am just different, and not the “Capital”

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2019

Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

In Hibernation

Put me to sleep
A very deep sleep
Without these dreams that are full of promises
Promises that are never fulfilled
The dreams that give hope for the future
And pose a risk to the unpleasant present
Those that make you feel like dreaming on
Wishing for a future that only lives in your imagination
But tomorrow remains the same.
“Every day begins a new chapter”
Guess the saying goes in contradiction
And am the only one left who believes in that

I will be patient enough
Not a word will gush out of this mouth
That is shut with heavy lips
I won’t respond to your secret conversations
About the neighbor with the neighbor
I will keep out from the false teachings
For these pinnae will be sealed
I will hide myself, from the mockery of the favored
And judgment for my skepticism 
Keep me hibernated, and keep my eyes
From walking temptations in miniskirts
And I will plea to God for his mercy
I won’t mind awaiting His Kingdom in a comma


After all this is done,
When the prince is come
When the governments rest upon his shoulder
Then you wake me up.
Awake me when all this craziness is over
When Markovnikov reverses his rule
That is no more taking from the poor
Call for my name when brothers no longer slay brothers
When they come to their senses
And realise bones don’t bring wealth
And wealth won’t buy a grin 
Verify with MBC that mother Nyasa’s face is elevated
And I shall answer you, I promise I will.

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2018



Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

Differently Different

A paper and a pen
I need a few to tell stories of my pain
Not of what has passed 
But of that which is to come
If this isn’t a curse tell me what it is
Pink skin yet of my father’s race
No melanin even on the hair on my face
I fear the sun, it doesn’t favor my kind
I fear the dark; it plays games with my mind
And I fear my own people, 
That I’m a man they don’t mind
"People-phobic'', I thought they were brothers
Maybe not anymore because they have places to go,
Houses to build, cars to buy, 
a life to live, food to dine;
Because they think I am the gateway to Jacuzzis
That my bones are a fortune worth taking a life for
I was only born different as my purpose was, different

Should I scream? Should I mourn?
Should I call the pastor to do my eulogy?
Should I be waiting for another sunset?
Maybe bid farewell to the melodies from the air?
How long should I be living in terror?
For we never know, who and when it will be
Brothers are slaying brothers
Whom shall I trust? The police?
Who is to blame? The neediness?

Should I cover my skin from the sun?
And hide my skin from your sons?
If I had dark skin, I would breach
To save my skin, and ease mama’s worries
But this pale cocoon will take me to the grave 
Save me, I am a son and a brother too
I am a mother, and a patriot too
I have dreams, and future ahead
I am just different, and not the “Capital”

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2019

Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

My People

My people, good people bad people
Try them, have a taste, 
How do you like the sweet aloe Vera?

My people are black, dark
Not that it bothers me but
It might explain the odd comportment

My people have black hearts, rotting
From stabs of lovers, or so conjured
Woe unto the young, they drink from this culture

My people have choices, confusing
Do they want you? Maybe, Yes, No
Yet like a dog owner, drag you along

My people are deaf, blind deaf
“He is your brother not mpamba”
Come tomorrow, his bones ripped off of fresh

My people have a habit, bad manners
They hate their black genes
And taint them in breaches

My people have issues, unending
Every single move that you make
Is treated with moot authenticity

My people have complaints, annoying
They want to be great yet sit before televisions
And blame God their father; “why not us?”

My people are weird, absurd
They make laws imposed on others
While they break without hesitation

My people are strange, I love them
These sons and daughters of black kings
It’s not death that I wish on them, they are my people.

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2019

Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

Chasing hopes

And who am I?
Am just another man with another name
With dreams bigger than his height
Hopping for the best
Trying harder to keep the faith
But fire rains on him
The man who prays for refuge
Come tomorrow, lions still have craws

Earth, doomed
Humanity, cursed
Sin, forbidden
Peace, compromised
Order, reversed
Wealth, defiant
Should I do the right thing?
The world doesn’t favor the good

I will still wake up armed
Tighten my gear, set for the dream
Meagerly, a foot ahead of the other
I will be chasing hopes though in turmoil
I will kiss the face of the sun
If that’s what it takes
Whilst under your feet,
In the drifting scums,
I will honor the man with the master plan?

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2018

Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

Diary of a street Dog

They call with a whistle
“A friend” I smile
Only to deform at sight of the   "duka"

They whistle instead of my name
Or they think I don’t have one
So I look back but it wasn’t me they wanted

They whistle, seeking my attention
My stomach rumbles for the bone in their hand
Last time I swung my tail for it 
I got a duka in the face

I won’t fall for it, I know the trick
Won’t he stoop for the duka again?
I have to eat, I will take the risk
If I get hit, I will heal again.

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2019

Details | Billy Mlonda Poem

Don't Cry

Don’t cry
Not because it doesn’t hurt
I know it violently does

Don’t cry
Not that your heart is of steel
Just don’t bow to defeat

Do not shed a tear;
Not because you are a man
But you’ve got to be strong

Don’t cry
I know life plays favourites 
But life isn’t for the weak

Don’t cry
Not that you lack tears 
But don’t let them see you drown

Stop crying
When you tremble in fear
That’s when the lion in you roars

Don’t cry
When your faith is shaken
In the messages of pain from the past

Don’t cry
Or maybe you should
Only if you do behind doors.

Copyright © Billy Mlonda | Year Posted 2019

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