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Best Poems Written by Yinlaifa Edolo

Below are the all-time best Yinlaifa Edolo poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

A murder has been committed today. Well multiple really. Many women have been killed
and what’s sadder is that their killer will never be punished. He will never even be accused or
suspected. He will walk free. He will live.

Many women have been killed today; a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin,
a neighbor, a friend,an enemy, an acquaintance, a woman. A murder has been committed
and there’s no provision for justice.

A woman has been killed today. The whisperers say it was from natural causes. They say it was
her heart, that she had a disease. How could it be? Her heart was filled with such good things. She
had dreams and hopes. But I know the killer. I see him clearly and I know that he knows it. But he
will walk free. He will live.

A wife has been killed today. The doctors say it was a heart attack. Another ridiculous
assumption. That just doesn’t add up. Her heart would never attack her, how could it? If ever it
would attack, it would be him. It would be her killer. But he will walk free, he will live.

A mother has been killed. Her kids don’t understand it. They can’t understand it. They’ve
been told it was from natural causes; her heart had a disease so it attacked her, it failed her. But that
doesn’t make sense. Her heart was never hostile, it always gave love. She was mum. But they should
have been looking more intently. Then they would have seen her killer. But he will walk free, he will live.

I have been killed today. I do understand it. My heart wasn’t diseased, but it failed. It
couldn’t go on anymore. What was diseased was everything else. It was the innocence he stole from
my babies night after night and my weakness to stop him. It was the depravity in our home. It was
the numerous women and sometimes men that defiled our marriage bed over and over. It was the
heart break; this was not what I signed up for when I said I do. I have been killed today, but he will
walk free. He will live.

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Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

Harmony

A coming together. Notes, Keys, Chords.
Whatever instrument. Flutes, Bells, Violins.
A raising of voices. Alto, soprano, Bass.
Even silence.
A coming together. Words, Pictures, Sounds.
A blend. Tastes, Feel, Smells.
A calming touch to a festered soul, a word of praise to a yearning child. A warm hug to a grieving mother. A pay slip to a working father. A mother’s breast to a hungry child.
A balance. Excellent, Bad, Average.
A class system. Rich, Poor, Mediocre.
Emotions. Happy, Sad, Indifferent.
A balance. Good, Evil, Morally unsure.
The tides. Push, Pull, Calm.
Biology. A woman’s curve to a man’s solid frame.
Chemistry. Her estrogen to his testosterone.
You are my harmony. The smile to my scowl. The sanity to my madness. The yin to my yang. My music



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Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

Imperfect

Beauty had no soul.
 All she had were beautiful brown eyes and a pointy nose.
 Beauty had no soul.
 She was everything that my eyes loved and nothing my heart longed for.
 Beauty had no soul.
 She was many shades of physical perfection and that was all that caught my attention.
 Beauty had no soul.
 Full lips and swinging hips, but her heart was empty like a bottomless pit.
 Beauty had no soul.
 A river of long black hair did her head crown, oh my heart where was it that we were drowned?
 Beauty had no soul.
 Voice like the harmony of a thousand flutes, but her words held no depth.
 Beauty had no soul.
 Skin unblemished with a youthful glow, body adorned with trinkets of gold.
 To the eyes a goddess, oh but beauty had no soul.

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Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

The Voice of Silence

There’s nothing as sweet as the sound of silence.
Nothing is as deep as the valley of mute.
There’s nothing as fragrant as the aura of the wise one,
Whose tongue is silent as danger looms.
There’s nowhere as serene as this place that’s soundless
Or kisses so sweet as the ones from the voiceless.
A shadow of the noise, a glimpse out of madness.
A cool shaded place where my heart has found rest.
There’s nothing as soothing and calm as the voice of silence.
This thing that nurses my sanity to health,
 And keeps my heart from being restless
No matter how crazy it is that life gets.
My heart soars in the bliss of the silence.
My soul marvels at this nothing’s tune.
This thing that takes away my madness,
And keeps me walking around feeing cool.


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Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

Black Eyed Beauty

my beauty is the talk of the town, the envy of all the

town’s women. it must be so because every time i walk

down the streets, i see the women steal glances at me

and begin to whisper amongst themselves in the way

that lets you know you are the subject of the discussion.

The men look, look away, look again, and look away again

with guilt etched on their faces. They know that they should

not look so closely at another man’s wife, but they are powerless

to stop themselves.

My skin, the color of cream stained with a little chocolate,

glows and tempts lookers to feel it’s soft smoothness. My

hair falls to my neck in beautiful plaited rows. My rounded

hips fan out and roll from side to side as i walk, daring

lookers to challenge my femininity.

The thing that stands out about me the most though isn’t

any of my natural qualities. It is made by man. My man, my husband.

He makes sure that I am always made up, my eyes carrying the

color of his mood. Some days black, other days blue, and

every now and again purple.

Two weeks ago, I spilled some of his beloved beer while

serving his evening meal. This sent him into a mood, and he

painted my right eye blue. It was my fault of course.

A week ago, the mood had been black when his employers

had delayed the payment of his salary. He of course expressed

this on my left eye, leaving it a beautiful shade of black. Again

it was my fault, I should have been more understanding when

he demanded that food be brought from our empty kitchen.

I should have asked the neighbors for some.

When I am careful, and considerate, and patient, he lets

me wear brown on my eyes. My natural, glowing chocolate-cream

brown. I’m spotting a blue-black pair of eyes today, but I’m

hopeful that soon I will master the virtues of a good wife and

then maybe, just maybe I’ll be allowed to wear the chocolate-cream

brown, But until then I will continue to walk around the town

drawing the stares of the town folks, a black eyed beauty.


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Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

Soul Dirge

There’s a song playing inside my soul.
A song that is piercing and hollow.
A song that tells a tale of a time when there was pain.

There’s a song seeping out of a deep place.
Twisting and writhing, breaking to the surface.
Mournful voices in the saddest soprano.

There’s a song pouring out in the darkness.
A song tearing forth out of a bitter place.
Lamenting woes, sadness and heartbreak.

There’s a song playing inside my soul.
A haunting song as my soul mourns.
A song of death of heart and love.

Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

Static

Is this how my TV feels every time it shows a screen full of static?
 Out of sorts, unable to comprehend the signals coming in; or maybe
 the lack of it? Does it feel frustrated when a supposedly knowing hand
 yanks out the power cable and fixes it back in, in the hope that a
 reset would turn the static to fluid pictures?
 
Does it get angered when ignorant hands pick up the remote control and
 flip from channel to channel, willing it to show something other than
 static? Does it fume?
 
Does it roll it’s eyes when over eager hands ‘pat’ it not so gently
 to see if it will make the thing on the screen change? Does it cringe
 at their touch? Does it feel pain when the pats are rough or hard?
 
Does it smile when a sensitive user picks up the remote control and
 thinks to tune and search for the right signal? Does it rejoice when
 the black and white dancing dots give way to a shaky picture? To the
 beginning of something clear? Does its heart fall in disappointment when
 the picture is still shaky, dancing from the bottom to the top of the
 screen with multiple lines running through and the user stops tuning and leaves?
 Is it able to trust when finally a user with the patience to follow through comes
 along and tunes until the picture is clear and the audio is right too?
 
I wonder if these are the things my TV feels when all there is is static,
 and if it is then I guess I’m not much different from my TV. 



p.s check out my blog for more stuff from me :) www.jaymarensworld.wordpress.com

Details | Yinlaifa Edolo Poem

The I Don'T Know Dance

What are we?
Who are we to each other?
What is us?
What does the word mean when either of us says it?
What does it mean when neither of us can say it?
What is this?
What is this thing we are not naming?
What is this?
Is it love if we don’t acknowledge it?
How long will we stand and pretend we don’t hear the song our hearts are playing.
How long will we fight this?
How long will we stop this beautiful thing from evolving?
How long will your heart’s ache go untended?
How long will my heart’s call go unanswered?
When will we both grow up?
Why can’t we love like children?
How long will we stay guarded?
When will we stop being so careful?
When will we let go?
When will the answer stop being ‘I don’t know’?
Oh but there’s hope.
One day we will play.
One day we will laugh.
One day we will love.
One day you will be mine.
One day I will be yours.
One day we will be us.
I know this.
One day when your guard is down, I will creep into
Your heart and we will dance the song of forever.

Best Poems Written by Yinlaifa Edolo

Tears

You Are

The Un-Accused Guilty

Harmony

Imperfect

The Voice of Silence

Black Eyed Beauty

Soul Dirge

Static

The I Don'T Know Dance