BLOOD IS A METAPHOR IN SUMMER
unravels me, I listen to a child’s
voice as lullaby. a bedridden voice
towering each day since it birth—
Is he a martyr or saviour? the night
is mute to my questions. I forgot the cat
got it tongue—palenstine is blood-soiled, a mother carries her child twice
in birth & death, the world is calm
sorrow wings are flexible, fueled by
sounds of destruction, blood is autumn & rains in summer,
peace is extinct, in a world where supplication is a messiah.
on a sweet november/at a Gaza jubilee/I found love/at a fated charade/unknown to me/a deathtrap waited at the hallway/you let in death/at my destruction/how betrayal/ruined the love/I build for an immortal ascension/to the seven gates of paradise.
LOVE IS NOT BROTHERHOOD
memories hurt,
the pained ones are etched
like a padigram in our soul
before the wind threw us in
the southern wind, our stand
was made of rock & trust
our colour varied, yet red was our
bloodline. the old days was gold
not until it turned a bad blood
between the brotherhood that once made,
the sun thirsty for lemonade, to cheer
our bond that sparkle than it hays.
BIOGRAPHY
Suleiman Mansir Gado is a novelist & poet who hails from Niger State. A graduate of the department of sociology from Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida University, Lapai. Suleiman Mansir Gado is a native of Mokwa Local Government. His hobbies are writing & reading books when he is not playing football.