The Last Metaphor | Abubakar Auwal

after reading- michael isangedighi imossan

by tomorrow, i know. you never know. i’m a metaphor of everything in
between the teeth of what engulfed my ancestors. by tomorrow. a new
angel is born with my beak kissing the feet of my lord. by tomorrow,
i’m a poet laureate in another universe; i pictured my mother to be
goddess. my dad; a bullet hunter. & uncle; a red devil kissing the
laughter on the cheeks of fire. 1-2-3… no. god. i’m a man. a sinned
template. & all that frozen the sky are my palms. no… i mean yes. to
you i sketched my poetry, for the last metaphor that may hyperbole
mother’s pot. by tomorrow— i’m naked & all i seek is a silent night
with an Ustazia learning how it feels to be hearted, (like a surviving
prayer on the cheeks of cheering butterflies), how it feels to fetch
water from the womb fire, & how it feels to burry death in the cup of
memories. by tomorrow. i’m a poet, a naked one planted on your cheeks,
their cheeks, & god’s too. hold on to my breath, the silent whispers
echoing from my beak, my lips and this broken poem, i birth myself
into. by tomorrow. i’m mailing my tongue to god, to you and into the
ribcage of the goddess; i carved my tales whispering into & the grave
i foresighted my soul, waterfalling into. behold the flowering hopes;
i boiled my silence through the oodles of our madness. by tomorrow.
all i want is to magic the heart that craves for the scents of roses
to death. i mean the bird, carrying her world from the roofs of Rome
to my chest. a city of boiling death & a poem & a tale & tongues &
stories, staring deep into the me in me. they have no voice, like the
silent water. // water, silence. all are metaphors to what my eyes,
caught father morphing himself into. i mean an immortal of crisped
venom, vaporing within the jaunted universe, above our nostrils. if
only heaven would cage a flowering eve, another adam will be born in
second. i mean a flower is reborn when only, father holds onto the
lips of god and whisper mother into this broken poem.

Abubakar Auwal is the award-winning author of Portrait of Gods As
Metaphors; 1st runner up Nigeria Prize for Teen Authors (Poetry,
2024). He was the winner of Splendors of Dawn Poetry and Short Story
Competition (February-April, 2023), finalist BPKW Poetry Contest, NYTH
Poetry Contest, & longlist Brigitte Poirson Poetry Prize, shortlist
Arting Arena Poetry Chapbook Contest and others. He’s the
Editor-In-Chief at New Voices Magazine, Founder/President of
Nigerlites Spoken Word Artists as well as the librarian of Hill-Top
Creative Arts Foundation. You can access some of his works through
this link
@abuba_karauwal Instagram — @saddiq89 Twitter.

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