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Best Poems Written by Wilson Lemani

Below are the all-time best Wilson Lemani poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Heritage

They take me through grasslands
Of the sunny flat lands of home
Dotted by baobabs 
Young ones running up and down
Elders , to and from farm
Changing tunes low and high
As they sing them 
In turns 
To suit their situation
Yao songs

 Sometimes they bring to life memories
That strengthen bonds of blood
Making turning backs on each other forbidden
When you remember lullabies
Sang by them to you
When you were a toddler
A yao toddler.

Happiness is better expressed
The rythms hold  sorrow captive
And to anger exactly the same happen
As hunger politely walks out
To give room 
For people to dance 
To the on spot composed tunes
Yao tunes

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Together

Lets go in parallel
Sideways look is bearable
Lest we slow in series
Or turn into a salt pillar 
From frequent look backs
So lets go in parallel

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How I Feel

As smile slowly fades
Laughter becomes  an oasis
You hear sharp sounds
Drums beat so loud
Sadness braces the dance floor
And Sorrow joyfully holds the mic
The neighbors whisper
We told him not to...
He never listened
Solitude becomes your new neighbor

You want to cry out loud
But they are too busy to hear
They can't see your tears 
For you are standing in the rain
Ooh my mind
You are no longer conducive for sleep
Full of unresolved disputes
No playground for newborn ideas
I miss your peace
You certainly need help
But who is the Samaritan?

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Pillars

It was but a silent hiss
Slowly taking one by one 
Pillars of the village shade
As the sharpness in the women's laughter faded
As deep commanding voices became an oasis
And the full moon brightness shaded
Leaving us the little ones in the dark
.

Oh ye elders of our land
The gap you left has been filled with a puzzle
If we are all to resurrect one day
Then my wish is 
We should be guests of the Most High first and meet later.

Details | Wilson Lemani Poem

Of the Cemetery and of the Graveyard

Gather 'round, young ones, and heed my words,
The truth has been consumed, its head submerged,
To depths far from light.

Recall, just a few market days past,
It was shrouded in shadows, veiled by lies that would forever last.

For most of the living you see, have perfected the art,
Of twisting reality, of bias that distorts the heart.
Disguising traps as breakthroughs, so scary.

Dictating paths for others' children's feet,
And swearing oaths that seal their fate, so discreet.
For theirs is the cemetery,
And ours the graveyard.

Binding futures with words that cannot be undone,
And claiming power over lives that have just begun.

Thinking if they're buried in the cemetery, they'll be better off than us of the graveyard,
Where trees loom thick, and diggers tread barefoot, with hearts that are hardened.

But eternity is long, long for it.
Today's presence speaks of yesterday's absence. 
Do not be deceived and do not be amused.
We shall be equal in bones and then dust.
Whether of the cemetery or of the graveyard.

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When in-laws clash

My blade is sharper, so they claim.
And his hoe is blunt.
Each voice raised is struggling to rise above the noise,
eyeing for supremacy,
living to convince,
competing for dominance,
quarreling to belittle, demean, and degrade.


I found that armchair broken and fixed it.
The chicken you ate when you paid your dowry was mine.
So it goes.


But both are travelers.
Come harvest time, behind those bushes they will disappear.
No inheritance, pension, or gratuity—except what they sent forth.
Had we not wasted our time,
we would have been of paradise.
But we departed with enmity.
We are now roasted in grief.

Details | Wilson Lemani Poem

The Weak Servant

I look in the mirror, I see the defects of my soul,
Shadowed by the flaws of my heart.
Am I blocking the path of light that I see in my shadow's front?
Do rumors define me, or can I break free?
From the burdens of doubt, or is it the weight in me?

In the darkness of the night, loneliness creeps in,
But I still hold on to the light I've known.
Perhaps to embrace my fears,
And wipe away my tears.
For the flame inside is burning bright.
I must stand up tall,
And pass through life's steel walls.

But when I look in the mirror,
All I see are the defects of my soul.

Details | Wilson Lemani Poem

The Book

I read a book with sharp words
Piercing deep into the muscles of the heart
Unraveling life's secrets
Detailing beyond this realm
Narrating the past with caution
Illuminating what's within the breast
Putting doubt to rest
Separating truth from the grasp of falsehood

Then I recited the book
The eyes turned watery
The reasoning humbled
From the harmony that comes from within
A true source of solace 
Balancing the call to fear and hope