top of page
abubakar.jpeg

Abubakar Auwal

Abubakar Auwal, Tpc VIII, NiSWA 001, is a bilingual teen poet, playwright, essayist, movie actor, graphics designer, storyteller and also a spoken word artist born in Minna, Niger State, Nigeria. Abubakar’s works have been published or are forthcoming in Teen Lit Journal, Synchronized Chaos magazine , Hello Poetry, LILAC Journal, Poetry.com, Words Rhymes & Rhythm, Art news.com.ng, Al-fijir MSSN magazine, New Voices Magazine, California Poppy Times, IJAEM journal, Flower Song Press, Boundless 2023 (the anthology of the Rio Grande Valley International Poetry Festival) and elsewhere.

Abubakar is the Editor-in-Chief at New Voices Magazine, junior editor at Poetry.com and proudly a member of Hill-Top Creative Art foundation. 

He was the winner of Splendor of Dawn poetry and short story competition (February-April edition, 2023) and finalist for the NSYTH Poetry and spoken word recitation.

The Metaphor Of How Speaking Night Approaches Paradise

whispers revved our tongues in speaking night;

because men died in the balcony of their past, 

because angels buried their wings in the reverence. 

 

my father's name begins with the tail of dark tales, 

unforgotten memories fold themselves in the heart of time, 

& the moon propping the smiles of the sun—laughtered. 

we dream & nightmares staggered before boys & girls 

chitchat about how roaring guns define mother, 

when today wore the face of yesterday & forgot the pregnancy of tomorrow. 

 

sometimes, my father once told me a story;

about how he planted his tongue 

in the midday—with night dooring his face. 

 

& thus; the sky giggle for another laughter, 

for each joke began with metaphor of his name. 

I am sorry—I meant metaphor of ridiculous souls. 

& for today, I scribble my fingers around the heart of fireflies, 

with night giggling from the heart of darkness, 

as the stars sketch my face/ paint a flower/ on the tip of my nose, 

& we bathed the wind with winded snow

& god poured his saliva on my reticence

hairing to water another god on my fingers.

bottom of page