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Interview with Wilson Waison: The Young Poet

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Having been part of the Writers Camp Whatsapp group I have got the chance to interact with some of the finest creative in the country and across the globe and I was just caught up with the young man’s scripts and poetry that I requested an interview with this young man. Wilson Waison is one young man whose poetry is usually filled with verbal acid. Below is the interview I had with Wilson.

Tinashe: Apparently, I have bumped into your poems and couldn’t hesitate to pitch up an interview with you. Who is this Wilson?
Wilson: Who is me as in? What I do or
Wilson: Okay. I am A poet. Protestant poet, human right activist. An ardent follower of the revolution. An activist on Drug and abuse, A blogger as well as the founder of sister org Ghetto Diaries and Deem.lit.org
Tinashe: That’s great of you, I’m caught up by the Protestant part. Can you dig deeper into it?
Wilson: Do you know the 100 Thousand poets for peace in Zimbabwe?
Tinashe: No, I am not aware of it
Wilson: It’s a platform where poets in Zimbabwe write on the protestant plea *The Zimbabwe we want poetry campaign of which I am a member
Tinashe: That’s great of a Society. How far have you contributed on changing the face of Zimbabwe?
Wilson: In fact my poetry is devoted in reshaping a better Zimbabwe from political view points down to economic and social stratagem. So literary am doing a great deal so far. Most of all I am trying to relate ethics and social balance in my Ubuntu research. I might not have impacted a large audience yet but I hope my voice is molding a better Zimbabwean in the sense that it’s non-partisan
Tinashe: To date what poem can you say to have made the greatest hit or literally that has gone Viral?
Wilson: Ceaseless Brawl of Feb 2016
Tinashe: Some might be asking where they can get the poem. The topic is promising some fireworks
Wilson: On my poem hunter page Wilson poetry slot.
Tinashe: Can you drop the link
Wilson: Ceaseless Brawl – Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison.Ceaseless Brawl by Wilson Tinotenda Waison. .To resume on where you left our home now a forlorn citadel the bloody fields you ceased in your toil a quest to …For more info:
http://v.duta.us/ZgCizQAA
Tinashe: Your voice seems to be beyond your age and I’m wondering how old is this Wilson?
Wilson: KKK a son of the so called independence. Born on the 7th of January 98. 20 years old. Wilson: A grandson of the revolution always a son of evolution. The voice depicts the impetus child of Zimbabwe poised between disillusionment and disappointment
Tinashe: Still young,but Wisdom knows no age.What inspires you to write so much
Wilson: The day to day transgressions and my social life drives the potions out. How we are living our low life thus also deriving my stage name ‘lowlife diarist’. The elements of our society’s turns be my inspiration. Other than that , notable noble poets and writers such as Mbizo Chirasha, Memory Chirere, Chirikure Chirikure, Dambudzo Marechera, Benjamin Henson, Robert Muponde … The list is endless , these guys always reshapes my diction and judgment.
Tinashe: Great list there, you seem to be writing much of Protesting and vengeance and one might be asking how your society has shaped your poems
Wilson: Not all are protestant piece of art however the notables ones like The Miller and Victims depicts more on societal ills which in turn has a didactic message
Tinashe: You seem to be a victim of these social ills. What worst life experience especially with regards to these ills?
Wilson: I am an observer … a close one thus why the most art pieces are in 3rd person point of view
Tinashe: You got your talent. When did you start writing and how has been your journey?
Wilson: I literary started writing at form three that was 2013 but the art was lame. Then in 2015 that’s when I appeared first time on stage at British Council.
Tinashe: Great. That’s quite long back. How was the first experience on stage?
Wilson: I felt a nerve but moments later I gained control of the stage
Tinashe: Great.Someone might be asking what one needs to be a good poet
[2/18, 21:25] Wilson: A lot of research and literature read. Also discovery of ones strengths in terms of literal devices .Diction and style amongst other things. One need to get his facts right and lastly be him or herself. Don’t imitate
Tinashe: Really insightful. Where do you see yourself in the next 5 years?
Wilson: I will be the next Chenjerai Hove
Tinashe: Why Chenjerai Hove?
Wilson: He is one of my inspiration. Iconic figure who sold much and was a successful poet before his death
Tinashe: Just to wrap up, how best can you summarize yourself?
Tinashe: Powerful there.Any personal quote?
Wilson: “let my indie incites the wits that lies underneath the impetus poetic justice be begotten by nitwits and to the progeny divine granted”
Tinashe: It just blew my mind. That’s too much of verbal acidity lol. How can we get in touch with you?
Wilson: You can call on +263775 540 599
waison263@gmail.com
Facebook: Deem.lit.org page
Tinashe: Thanks. We have come to the end of our interview. Any final words to our readers?
[Wilson: Literature define humanity. Embrace it

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POEMS

The bitterness of bombs

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I wonder why I wonder why?

I grew up in terror

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And I met a terrible error

My life was and is still shattered

And my society scattered

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I wonder why, I wonder why?

The first bomb got me on the top of the hill

But I had to face it with courage and stay still

A couple of bodies laid like flies

And all I could hear were the cries

I wonder why, I wonder why?

I saw young lads taking the last breathe by my side

To survive I had to dive in no river in order to subside

 The ground was tensed and it couldn’t hold me anymore

And my senses, my throat and my heart were all bitter and sore

I wonder why, I wonder why?

I fled the scene leaving the dead alone and I felt the shame

But who was to be held accountable and who was to be blame

I will live to tell my own story as a single narration

But the history has it all and the full documentation

By Ngaluku Lukulu Chocho

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MOTIVATION

The Magic of A Pen

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You feel heavy in your heart; you wonder if it’s worth jotting down. “This is for talented people”, what if it’s a chance for you to discover yours? I believe life is a mystery to be discovered and learnt. Learn to appreciate your mind by allowing that pen to scribble your motivations or feelings. I have learnt to discover writing makes me to be serene with myself, it’s a form of healing.

You can ask yourself, should I use complex language? Should I use a certain structure? All these are not of major importance; we all have a unique way to our literary work. If you cannot appreciate your work as the first customer to it, who will? Never doubt that you can do it, it only needs you to believe in yourself and never be ashamed to ask for help. If I say a lot it would be more of iteration, just believe in the magic of the pen you hold.

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Compiled by
Trevor Virima S.C

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Bitconnect Shuts Down After Accused Of Running A Ponzi Scheme

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Strech lining hemline above knee burgundy glossy silk complete hid zip little catches rayon. Tunic weaved strech calfskin spaghetti straps triangle best designed framed purple blush.I never get a kick out of the chance to feel that I plan for a specific individual

Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia. It is a paradisematic country, in which roasted parts of sentences fly into your mouth.

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A wonderful serenity has taken possession of my entire soul, like these sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my whole heart. Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli, but the Little Blind Text didn’t listen.

On her way she met a copy. The copy warned the Little Blind Text, that where it came from it would have been rewritten a thousand times and everything that was left from its origin would be the word “and” and the Little Blind Text should turn around and return to its own, safe country.

“NO REPRESENTATION IS BEING MADE THAT ANY RESULTS WILL OR ARE LIKELY TO ACHIEVE PRICES SIMILAR TO THOSE SHOWN.”

A wonderful serenity has taken possession of my entire soul, like these sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my whole heart. I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine. I am so happy, my dear friend, so absorbed in the exquisite sense of mere tranquil existence, that I neglect my talents.

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But nothing the copy said could convince her and so it didn’t take long until a few insidious Copy Writers ambushed her, made her drunk with Longe and Parole and dragged her into their agency, where they abused her for their projects again and again. And if she hasn’t been rewritten, then they are still using her.

Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia.

A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table – Samsa was a travelling salesman – and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer.

Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. “How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense”, he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn’t get into that position. However hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was.

“The will to win, the desire to succeed, the urge to reach your full potential these are the keys that will unlock the door to personal excellence.”

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections.

A wonderful serenity has taken possession of my entire soul, like these sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my whole heart. Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli, but the Little Blind Text didn’t listen.

His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table – Samsa was a travelling salesman – and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame.

It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad.

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