Fire-songs about my brother as a tape of absentia-
Reality made me cruel. Outside my body, is a burgled door – my
Red bright flowers crashes with apricots. My mouth has abridged
The distance of the wind. A sea has practiced it’s drowning. Fire
Has cocked my neighbor’s room. I take a sip of depression everyday
So the mouth could dip into something lighter than emigration. I
Forged my dreams into a paper-boat & wait for an empty arrival
Of water to seafare my art of precipitation. My mouth too,
Long hold crumbles of letters. My brother had stayed quite long
In the waiting room. There’s a cyborg of prayer & a portal through
my mother’s soles. The wind had cut off their ties with human bugs.
My brother with sands – Praying for something lighter than electrocution.
Everyday – History burns with us. Red oil & spicy onions. My country
Is a pan of underlaying sarcasms. We fried memories & salted bones
For fear the deads won’t clog back at depression. I once vomit
Photographs of my brother on a cross country’s celebration. His body –
A unison of red petals. Every time i listen to fire-songs,
my brother becomes a tape. His voice, softer than a wingless wind.
ABOUT THE POET
Aliyu Umar Muhammad is a 19 year old writer, performer and a coach. Shortlisted for the Arting arena chapbook contest 2023, Aliyu is a member of Hill Top Creative Arts Foundation Minna. Some of his works can be reached through; world Voices Magazine, Kalahari review, spillwords, The Carried Away, Arts News or elsewhere.
