Solo, by Kwame Alexander

I once stumble upon a book, a poetry book. Frankly speaking it’s not that I don’t read Romance or Chick lit stories, I actually enjoy reading those, but for novels I just go straight to Sci-fi Fantasy Adventurous Fiction Mystery side, I like those nervewracking-excited-ohnotgoingtocontinuebutstillreadingit feeling. And for poetry, to be honest it’s not my thing. I don’t really read nor make them.

Back to one, The book. I told you that I don’t really read poetry book. And this book is a Romance yet Poetry book. The thing is I have this thought of buying it. I know, that’s way too far from my type of genre I’m not going to buy a book just for it to ends up in my bookshelf and not reading it for years. No, I don’t want that. But this time I decided to trust and follow my guts. Yes, what a cliché phrase to say, but I did. I buy it.

Settling down, I open up the book not knowing what expectation I should have towards it, I start reading it.

Page 10
The magic
we compose
is endless,
immortal

We could play
together
for centuries.
If I’m lucky.

And I love
the music
our bodies
make
when we’re dancing

Oh great. A romance, poetry and a music book. But somehow I feel familiar. How I dance to your music. No, I’m not there dancing with you. But I feel like I’m the luckiest out there playing while dancing to the composed endless magic of yours

Page 34
I wonder if anyone has
ever delivered
a graduation speech with
a six-string guitar

I know someone who ever delivered not a graduation speech but a birthday song with a six-string guitar. You’ll be asking what’s special about listening to someone singing a birthday song? Yeah I mean, what’s special listening someone singing a self-made birthday song appreciating our self for being born. Or should I say we-made? Yes, we made it together.

Page 39
10:36 pm
how we are the chords
that make music
the language of love

I should say that this my favorite page of the book. This page is just, you. The way you pick the guitar strings, The way you press the piano keys, And the way you hit the drums. It felt like the chords you’ve made transferred into a language of love.

Page 64
His laughter
now morphed into
a song
with an infectious rhythm
of blues
that’s becomes the soundtrack to a movie
with a chase scene
starring yours truly

Never in a million thought I would be whipped of someone else’s laughter. I could just stare at your face endearingly while hearing to your laughter. It’s now feels like a rhythm that I enjoy hearing it steadily.

Page 84
Maybe tomorrow
we can cruise
to Malibu
have a picnic
by the sea.
I’ll even bring strings
and sing you
that graduation song.

Where we’re going to here that song again? Will it be at our usual spot? Or it’ll be the different one. Will you bring your usual six-strings guitar? Or it’ll be the the different one. Nonetheless, it’s okay if we’re not meeting at our usual spot or if you don’t bring your usual six-strings guitar. As long as it’s you.

It reminded me of a famous saying. They said “And suddenly, all the love songs were about you.” It actually does. But the difference here is it is book, every time I flip it, it reminds me of you.

And yes, suddenly all of the phrases in pages were about you.

fin.
22.11.2021

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