HOW TO MOUTH BROKEN PSALMS IN AN EARTHQUAKE by Wisdom Adediji

by KREATIVE DIADEM | Jul 10, 2022 | POEMS

HOW TO MOUTH BROKEN PSALMS IN AN EARTHQUAKE

by Wisdom Adediji

1

It’s okay to let go. to spread your palms over the clitoris of your shadow

& mouth your fears like the incarnation of a broken spirit.

2

You danced your lips to your heartbeat hitting your ribcage,

as the sand collects imprints from your vigorous foot.

you’re scared. scared of why the earth have to open its mouth while sleeping,

scared of the tremors escaping its snore,

through the epicentre. the sock waves. fires bashing out of its yawn.

The earth seems like a bouncing castle pricked at its brim.

Before you’re eyes, everything becomes Sodom

everywhere becomes Gomorrah,

you stand still. shocked. like a bag of dry bones,

as water balls skate down your cheeks,

you weep, weep, weep….

but it’s nothing. Jesus also wept….

3

You remember your teacher. geography teacher.

what he told you about earthquakes,

he said one day, the earth will yawn

& gulp bodies, & crave souls, & spit fire as sputum,

& he too will become a labyrinth,

& many others will be like unexcavated artifacts,

forgotten inside the earth’s belly

4

& you too will tend to survive,

you’ll stop running around. fearing.

You’ll flee away from walls. from poles. from trees. from holes. bridges. tunnels.

& hold your ground. Cat yourself under the wooden cabinet,

or the strong ancient table in your room.

now, all you have to do is breathe. press the red button on your phone,

& chew psalm 23. once again, breathe breathe breathe & breathe…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Wisdom Adediji is a genre-bending writer from the city of Ibadan, Nigeria. His works have appeared or forthcoming on Oneblackboylikethatreview, Arcuute, World voices magazine, Arts lounge and elsewhere. He is currently studying geography at the University of Ibadan and writes from there. Meet him on Instagram @wisdomadediji7.

THE CLEANSING by Taiwo Odesanya

by KREATIVE DIADEM | Jun 22, 2022 | POEMS

man touching back of the head with hands

THE CLEANSING

by Taiwo Odesanya

Say, frustration is the seed mothering these

Bullets the earth is puffing,

Say, it is the gun flooding this heat,

These droughts, these storms,

These insects, these wildfires,

These diseases,

Say, humans have pushed the earth to the wall,

Forcing her to taste her blood,

Say, humans have harvested earth’s tears like fruits,

And punctured it with inhuman activities,

Say, the earth warned and warned,

But humans’

Inhumanity clothed their ears like a river over a land,

Now that frustration is pushing these bullets from earth’s hands,

Many of them are trying to recede into shadows?

Now that the earth is

Hatching climate change and her consequences as eggs,

Some are hiding behind shields?

Some are passing the burdens to others?

Tell me this cross will rollover,

Tell me,

Tell me the earth will cleanse this frustration and grow grace.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Taiwo Oluseye Odesanya is a Nigerian Poet, Non-fiction writer, Blogger, and History enthusiast. He is a Computer Information Systems graduate from Middlesex University London with a deep passion for writing. Taiwo calls writing his first love and hopes to write something “groundbreaking” about remarkable events from the past because of his undying love for history.

FOR THE FIRST LOSS OF INNOCENCE by Adedamola Olabimpe

by KREATIVE DIADEM | Jun 15, 2022 | POEMS

FOR THE FIRST LOSS OF INNOCENCE

by Adedamola Olabimpe

your first kiss was a crime scene.

stolen from you in the darkness of your

mother’s kitchen.

it slid down your throat & started

the spark that turned you into the wildfire of a human.

your first kiss stolen from you

in the darkness of your mother’s kitchen.

a loss.

a funeral with only your 14-year-old self

& a mute god in attendance.

you wore nothing.

your first kiss slid down your throat,

hot & ready to consume.

insides turning to ash. unfamiliar desires

travelling through your senses & finding home

in the space between your thighs.

your first kiss was not your first kiss

but your second.

this kiss was a sin & this man forgot what a

child was.

fanning out flames with his head buried

in between your chest.

you remember his smell & how it corrupted

everything.

tainted nights. coloured thoughts.

look at you, child. the antithesis of purity.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Olabimpe is a lover of white bread who almost always has their earphones in. They have works published in Ngiga Review, Sub-Saharan Magazine, Anti-Heroin Chic, Visual Verse and others. You can find them on Instagram @borednigeriangirl and on Twitter @lilbrowneyedfae.

EUPHEMISM by Samuel Adeyemi

by KREATIVE DIADEM | Dec 20, 2021 | CONTESTS, POEMS

faceless muscular ethnic man grabbing wrist of girlfriend during dispute

EUPHEMISM

by Samuel Adeyemi

Second Runner-up of the 2021 Kreative Diadem Annual Creative Writing Contest (Poetry Category)

Murder by a scalpel is pronounced death,

not surgery. There is no intricacy

when the blade drowns in a body, whirling

inside like a wet threading of gut.

Whatever the instrument, do not hesitate

to call your suffering by its name.

It won’t soften it, but it will unshroud the

mystique. I have stared at my misery

for so long, it seems less oblique. How this

works—the fangs still terrify, but they

look just like teeth. The tissue, death-sharp

yet quite familiar in its whiteness.

Our prophets have always been about pre-

tending. They think calling a wound

a flower will taper its ache, sugar the poison

that mars the blood. But the first step

to wholeness has always been recognition.

It is a lie that the lie will be

the genesis of healing. The greatest miracle

lies within the same truth we are taught

to abandon. When you stare at the mirror, do

not invert the image. There, your open

chest. Gaze. Is that a nail where your heart

used to be? Wipe off the honey & tell

the wound as it is. Metal organ. Blood rust.

Why must we wait until our suffering

ends before we name it? What happens when

we are the ones outlived? I have chosen

to resit the ritual of time, to call every bruise

by its colour. For what is a scar,

if not a wound waiting to become? Come

unto me. I will show you where I hurt

on the river’s body. Look. I am touching

all over the water.

ELOCUTIO by Olaitan Junaid

by KREATIVE DIADEM | Dec 20, 2021 | CONTESTS, POEMS

woman looking at sea while sitting on beach

ELOCUTIO

by Olaitan Junaid

First Runner-up of the 2021 Kreative Diadem Annual Creative Writing Contest (Poetry Category)

depending on // how // it is handled // a poem //

could be // a knife // like a toddler // with boobs //

i handle my grief // so gingerly // it knows not //

to spill // in my wildest dreams // everyone // runs //

away from me // says // i hold onto grief // so close //

i sometimes forget // to hold // myself // often //

i wake // to the bleating of // bukhatir’s last breath // &

even though // this poem // isn’t about // my mother //

everything // here // pretends // to be alive // alhamdulillah //

it’s juma’ah // & i want to tell a story // without //

the grave // i want to tell a story // where // the void //

between us // maintains // just as void // never as //

the strange woman or // the boy // my father’s with //

a new // wife // & i, a brother // to love // & why //

does my mother keep // ghosting back // to me // whole

as secrets // anyone around // to love her back // & why //

won’t she // just // live happily // ever after //

it’s the semester’s end // alhamdulillah // next weekend //

i’ll be sleeping // all through // the one after //

i’ll be lost // someplace // with no one // to // find me //

forgive me // mother // i keep // pretending // nothing dies //

here // forgive me // mother // i keep pretending // there isn’t //

any silence // in this poem // even when // the closest //

i’ve come // to joy // is // finger // thru it // to be honest //

i want to believe // grief isn’t bilingual // but o, i keep screaming

& screaming // subhanallah // when a termite bites // & now //

my tongue // is lost // to grief’s brutal dialect // & when //

i mean to sing // i shed // once // or twice in response // to prayer //

i screamed // asẹ́ // when i only meant // to amen // àṣẹ // & again

// everything i love // sieves // through me // the ones //

less porous // & wouldn’t let go // keeps falling&falling // like //

luck // o, lord, speak to me // of grace immeasurable // & i’ll tell

of my friend // who’s barely twenty-four // & hypertensive // & dying

// & soon // she’ll begin // to fork // through drugs // to stay alive //

& soon // she’ll be too busy // arranging what’s left // of her body // into //

a collage // of memories // that we may hold // on to // & soon //

she’ll be too tired // to stir fries // to say // hey // old friend //

how many dreams // have you survived // today // & soon //

i’ll mistake her for my mother // a tired beauty // only that // come

tomorrow // she’ll be home // sleeping // her lover // still hers //

watching // she won’t be dying // too soon.

IT IS HOPE THAT KEEPS THE FLAME OF DREAMS DANCING by Balogun Abdulmueed

by KREATIVE DIADEM | Dec 20, 2021 | CONTESTS, POEMS

low angle view of spiral staircase against black background

IT IS HOPE THAT KEEPS THE FLAME OF DREAMS DANCING

by Abdulmueed Balogun

Winner of the 2021 Kreative Diadem Annual Creative Writing Contest (Poetry Category)

It is hope that keeps the flame of dreams dancing, even when the wind of forlorn

throws at it a thousand blow. I have taken my heart to the silvery river, to remove

all traces of greed, what turns futile a century’s strife, to wash away the sticky dusts

of dissatisfaction, what steels people’s mind to the teachings and admonitions of patience,

what makes them envision the blessings of God as crumbs, as nothing worthy of glorification.

I see them now, smiling as they wine and dine, as they shroud their nakedness with stolen golds,

though survival is the first rule of nature, and when home fails to be a heaven, it’s only natural

but not justifiable to breathe by all means. Mother urges, with the clarity of a calm river, son,

don’t hurry the procession of life, take every pace at your pace, that’s divine; don’t be beguiled

by the fleeting pleasure of the world flashing to your eyes, into hacking the tree of hope in your

mind in the name of survival. Father exhorts, with the voice of a resolute thunder rattling in the

heart of the sky, when clouds wear darkness as cloak before the rise of dusk, beloved, the world

is brief like a second, spend yours as a harbinger of smile to pallid cheeks, and to your

neighbors— a bamly river be, soothe their pains, if you can, when they grief and if you can’t,

mope their tears with words of compassion. Dear God, I have come to you as a country ravaged

by war, as a bird with broken wings, the road of life is coated in riddles and thorns, and only

those under the parasol of your grace can tread unscathed. Gaze upon me— a poet,

a pilgrim and dust, with your merciful eyes, I do not want to brew my bliss like birds my

age who have murdered their conscience with knives of greed, from the core of what you

ordained profane, I do not crave to oil my harmattan-bitten lips like my peers with my neighbors’

oil, while they go to bed with growling stomachs, with bleeding hearts. God, I erect the pillars

of my dreams in your hands, insure my affairs in your heavenly vault, let your name be praised.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Abdulmueed Balogun is a Nigerian poet & an undergrad at the University of Ibadan. He is a 2021 HUES Foundation Scholar and a Poetry Editor at The Global Youth Review. He was longlisted for the 2021 Ebarcce Prize, Finalist: 2021 Wingless Dreamer Book of Black Poetry Contest, won Honorable mention: 2021 Whispering Crescent Poetry Prize, Shortlisted: BBPC Feb/March 2021 and an alumnus: 2021 SpringNg Writing fellowship. His works are forthcom(in)g: Avalon Literary Review, The Night Heron Barks Review, Salamander Ink, Bowery Gothic, Subnivean Magazine, Jmww Journal, The Remant Archive and anthologized in: Fevers of Mind (Poets of 2020) and 2021 Cathalbui Poetry Competition Selected Entries. He tweets from: AbdmueedA.