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MalakF Jul 28
O, come a little closer - hear what I have to say,
I know that one piece of writing can be interpreted in so many different ways.
O, but do pay attention to my word-play,
To the picture I’m trying to portray.

O, I hope by the end of this you will understand the image I am trying to convey,
But do not get me wrong, the end of this is something I am attempting to delay.
O, it is saddening to know that sooner or later my rhymes will fade away
So I will replay, replay, replay.

O, how I pray that what we have will not decay.
Like all the flowers & bouquets that I watched wither/die a bit more every day.
O, but how pretty were they?
Sad to know that each & every single one was thrown out like the contents of an ashtray.

O, how you must have noticed the repetition of O’s - I think they are here to stay,
Unlike my pathetic, childish rhymes that I am struggling to hold at bay.
O, do not get me wrong - the rules to rhyme are so easy to obey,
They are so easy to slay.

O, like tray, cafe, puree,
For god sake, even JFK.
O, please tell me - do you see the problem on display?
Do you see what I am trying to say, what is coming my way?

O, it feels like a betrayal
No, no, no that’s not a rhyme.
I need to rhyme, I need us to be okay.

Ray, clay, Bombay.
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay.
Tray, fray, mae.

O, please stay
I need us to be okay.
O, I know repetition of words is not a rhyme,
Nothing more than copy & paste.

Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.

O, please I don't want us to stray
I hate how we went from white to grey.
O, please I don’t us to end this way,
I know I am barely rhyming but I will try my best, okay?

Look - ballet, allay, hooray,
Hay, weigh, olay.
Look - ballet, allay, hooray,
Hay, weigh, olay.

O, please stay
I need us to be okay.
O, I know repetition of words is not a rhyme,
Nothing more than copy & paste.

I’ll come up with more,
Dismay, replay, is-lay.
Tray, cafe, valet,
Delray, Alleyway, Chevrolet.

It is not that I don’t know how to rhyme,
I just need something to rhyme for.
Rhyming is synchronisation, it is compatibility
I just need to know we are.

Please, stay, stay, stay,
Don't go away, don't go away, don't go away.
Please, stay, stay, stay,
Don't go away, don't go away, don't go away.

Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.

I know I am barely rhyming, but I will do my best okay?
Please stay,
Don’t go away.
I always associated rhyme with compatibility, and although sometimes certain words that rhyme does not mean the same thing - such as "tree" and "flee", but in a bizarre way, they connect through rhythm. Rhythm can be such a beautiful thing, like in songs - where it can be jumpy, makes you want to dance and generally has a nice flow to it. Music is only one example of the input of rhythm. In general, a rhythm means consistency, a pattern in some way. To me rhythm (although it is not always the case) connotes good & happiness, like the act of skipping in a field of flowers.

Whereas with repetition, I always interpreted it as a point to emphasis, a dire need to be paid attention to, to be highlighted, acknowledged, underlined and to be focused on. In a way, it screams desperation to me. I don't believe it flows smoothly. Instead, I see it as pressing the car brakes quite abruptly & harshly, that your water bottle, phone and even yourself are yanked out of your seat - with the seatbelt suddenly burning your chest, or a child throwing a tantrum (crying, stomping their feet, throwing themselves on the floor & screaming).

In this writing of mine (partly completed), I speak about rhyming and how I do not want to stop - where at the same time there is the presence of repetition. And if you see repetition as a "scream of desperation" as I do right now, then as you progress through the page, you will be able to see that my rhymes become an embodiment of exactly that (desperation) - not only through stating clearly my urgency for rhyme but also by my rhymes themselves becoming repeated - thus my repetition of "O" fades away around the end - but that does not mean repetition is not there anymore - all that happened is that it took another form. Repetition becomes the only way for me to rhyme. Does that mean they are still rhymes or are they repetitions? If a word is repeated does that mean it rhymes or is it merely a duplication of the word? Can we distinguish between them? Is repetition more powerful or are rhymes? What do we make out of this?
mg Apr 15
Even urgency
resists the urge
of plea.
Tadiwa Oct 2020
I wait on a little island
Marooned in the sea of traffic
The grey sky broadcasts sweet outcomes
To the farmer in me
But the lack of an umbrella
Makes my mind jittery
I'm vulnerable in my suit, tie and all
If the sky should burst open its floodgates
Where will I find shelter, with my laptop and phone?
Hurry Mr. Driver
Spur on that staff bus!
Glenarah and Robert Mugabe roads intersection in Harare
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2019
Her love is urgent
Coming quick,
Reaching out with both arms extended.
Her love close to my heart,
Our feet no longer stray,
The result of prayers made on both knees.
Her arms give more than take
Finding their way inside mine.
Providing a warmth awaken by the tick of hearts.
Her love urgent,
Time assent.
My nose lost in the scent of her neck,
My arms tight around her.
I don't want to go.
Tomorrow a world away.
I don't want to wait
Her love close
Pressed tight,
Just beneath her chest.
Each throb in the palm of my hand
Reaching out with both arms extended.
I don't want to go.
My hands no longer by my side.
Her love ever more urgent
My love waiting my whole life for her.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2019
She kissed me unexpectedly.
Her lips softly pressed against mine.
My lips fully convinced, my thoughts of her.
My hands wanting to wrap around her back.
The look before her eyes closed & pressed her lips to mine.
I haven't been able to think of anything else.
Her admirer no longer secret,
The look in her eyes, revealing everything I tried to hide.
The look of urgency; The anticipation of a rushing heart.
Her lips a world I only dreamed
& I helpless to the way she tasted.
The best things happening at the most unexpected moments.
Her shoulders relaxed in the moment.
Her lips pressed against mine in comfort.
Unknowingly whispering the moment is ours.
My eyes close & I am a million miles from where I stood.
Her jawline stretched toward mine.
Revealing everything I tried to hide.
My hands wanting to wrap around her back.
The best things happening at the most unexpected moments.
Moments that pass quickly in the blink of an eye
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2019
It takes alot
Loving you in these shoes.
It isn't horrible.
The way they fit.
The way they look.
Loving you in these shoes of mine.
It doesn't take much effort.
To slide my feet in.
Tie them, before a single step is taken.
Knowing all that goes unseen.
The padding & cushioning.
The flex of each step,
The urgency of how I long.
Revealing how much I've thought of you.
The many steps and puddles these shoes have walked.
They aren't waterproof.
They aren't well protected from wear & tear.
Loving you in these shoes of mine.
They are far from dress shoes,
Not even close to casual shoes.
They aren't the type of brand shoe everyone is in line to buy.
Stacy Adams, Adidas, Jordan.
Loving you in these shoes,
No one knows where to find them.
How many times they've come loose.
How many times the cushion has been replaced.
Loving you in these shoes of mine.
Knowing you've checked the tags of the name brand shoes.
The appeal of readily available colors
Light House Dec 2018
Bite down harder...
-- with great ardor --
with the strongest sense ..of urgency.
Kewayne Wadley Nov 2018
She always had a knack
for catching me off guard.
To expect the unexpected.
My heart a doorbell-
Expectation the mat she stood.
Sometimes she'd wait patiently.
Other times she'd constantly press the button.
A sudden nudge of emotion,
The appeal of urgency
Knowing that not many will wait.
Her smile sent special delivery,
Opened on arrival.
She never came when I expected.
Often checking before she rang.
My lips sealed
In suspense of waiting.
Better late than never.
My heart rung last minute.
Pressed again and again.
Again and again.-
Indulged that she came
My lips sealed at the nook of hers.
My heart a doorbell-
Pressed in anticipation.
Met quickly in arrival.
Her finger against my heart a courtesy
The whole time the door unlocked
Waiting for her return
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