EREMITE CONVERSATIONS : I'm not special because of suffering — samuel a. adeyemi
Weeks before winning the Nigerian Students Poetry Prize 2021, Samuel, in a conversation with our Interview Editor, Flourish Joshua discussed what makes up a vibrant support system, burnout, queer representation, grief poetics and more...
Flourish Joshua:
Hello, Samuel. Pleased to have you here. How are you doing, today?
Samuel A. Adeyemi:
Hello, Flourish. I am surviving. I hope you are well.
FJ:
Yes, thank you. Beyond what's in your bio, let's meet you, please.
SA:
I'm a 400 level student of English and Literary studies, Federal University Lokoja. When I'm not in school, I live with my family in Abuja. I enjoy football, card magic, reading manga, and discovering new artistes/bands to listen to. I recently discovered the band, Caskets. I think their new album, Lost Souls, is pretty good. You should check it out, if you're into that kind of stuff—they're not so heavy, I promise.
FJ:
Nice. Thanks for the nudge. When did you start writing /what made you start writing? Was there a push for you?
SA:
It's difficult to say exactly when. But when I became deliberate and conscious about writing was in 2017. I wrote my first poem that year. The push was my quest for art and, most especially, self-expression. I needed a canvas to paint what was inside me, and poetry was fitting.
FJ:
Most of your poems explore the theme of grief. Tell me, is this related to you, personally?
SA:
My confessional poems always relate to me. When I put myself in those kinds of poems, it is not fictional. So, if I write about grief, it is because I experience it. Anyway, it doesn't make me peculiar. I'm not special because of suffering—many experience more than I do. It gets tiring, you know, but I will never lie about my state in a poem. I won't say I'm in a good place if, indeed, I'm not. So if my poetry is self-reflective, which it is, and most of my poems are about the subject of grief, then the puzzle isn't difficult to complete.
FJ:
Interesting. Your poem, “Minnows,” first published in Blue Marble Review and also (my favorite poem) in your chap, talked about domestic violence, and it did in a beautiful(?) way. Is this related to you on a personal note, considering the fact that you just said, “So if I write about grief, it is because I experience it.” and “I won't say I'm in a good place if, indeed, I'm not?”
SA:
Oh you’re inquisitive (breaks into laughter). Yes, it's related to me. It's one poem I regret writing because of how much personal stuff I let out due to my emotions at the time I wrote it. I even had to reach out to the editor, months after it was accepted for publication, to replace a word in the poem. I should have slept the whole damn thing off. But I must correct; the poem is not about domestic violence. That has more gravity. I love my parents a lot, and none of them are like that. Issues happen between couples that do not include violence, you know?
Hello, Samuel. Pleased to have you here. How are you doing, today?
Samuel A. Adeyemi:
Hello, Flourish. I am surviving. I hope you are well.
FJ:
Yes, thank you. Beyond what's in your bio, let's meet you, please.
SA:
I'm a 400 level student of English and Literary studies, Federal University Lokoja. When I'm not in school, I live with my family in Abuja. I enjoy football, card magic, reading manga, and discovering new artistes/bands to listen to. I recently discovered the band, Caskets. I think their new album, Lost Souls, is pretty good. You should check it out, if you're into that kind of stuff—they're not so heavy, I promise.
FJ:
Nice. Thanks for the nudge. When did you start writing /what made you start writing? Was there a push for you?
SA:
It's difficult to say exactly when. But when I became deliberate and conscious about writing was in 2017. I wrote my first poem that year. The push was my quest for art and, most especially, self-expression. I needed a canvas to paint what was inside me, and poetry was fitting.
FJ:
Most of your poems explore the theme of grief. Tell me, is this related to you, personally?
SA:
My confessional poems always relate to me. When I put myself in those kinds of poems, it is not fictional. So, if I write about grief, it is because I experience it. Anyway, it doesn't make me peculiar. I'm not special because of suffering—many experience more than I do. It gets tiring, you know, but I will never lie about my state in a poem. I won't say I'm in a good place if, indeed, I'm not. So if my poetry is self-reflective, which it is, and most of my poems are about the subject of grief, then the puzzle isn't difficult to complete.
FJ:
Interesting. Your poem, “Minnows,” first published in Blue Marble Review and also (my favorite poem) in your chap, talked about domestic violence, and it did in a beautiful(?) way. Is this related to you on a personal note, considering the fact that you just said, “So if I write about grief, it is because I experience it.” and “I won't say I'm in a good place if, indeed, I'm not?”
SA:
Oh you’re inquisitive (breaks into laughter). Yes, it's related to me. It's one poem I regret writing because of how much personal stuff I let out due to my emotions at the time I wrote it. I even had to reach out to the editor, months after it was accepted for publication, to replace a word in the poem. I should have slept the whole damn thing off. But I must correct; the poem is not about domestic violence. That has more gravity. I love my parents a lot, and none of them are like that. Issues happen between couples that do not include violence, you know?
"Most times when I write about joy, it's centered on the lack of it or the yearning for it. Does this mean I don't experience joy? Of course not. It's just a little challenging writing about it..."
FJ:
You wouldn't mind me, Samuel. Since I read the poem, it stayed with me. Particularly, “I am still the first child of / a marriage waltzing on the nape of a precipice” and “Husband, take / your wife & flower a kiss upon her head. Wife, take / your husband & pluck out the sorrow from his lip.” More than I felt the mood of the poem, I guess I always returned to the poem to empathize with the poet—you. And yes, no marriage is perfect. My parents do argue, but it has never gravitated into violence. And thank you for stating that, too. Just so you know, I resonate with majority of your poems. More than the language, I always love to sit in that situation that inspired the poem and grieve with the poet—you, squeeze out the longing, too. I must appreciate you for always putting your mood into your poems and doing it in a way that leaves the reader hypnotized . . .
Since you are moved by your moods, tell me, please, what theme(s) do you find challenging? I do not think there should be any challenge for someone like you, except the mood isn't there, right?
SA:
Oh, it's alright, Flourish. And those were my favourite lines as well. Thank you for the kind words and your empathy. You're intentional about what you enjoy, and that's beautiful. The theme(s) I find challenging? I'd say joy—as in, the theme of actually being joyful, not the absence of joy. Most times when I write about joy, it's centered on the lack of it or the yearning for it. Does this mean I don't experience joy? Of course not. It's just a little challenging writing about it, especially extensively. In my chapbook, there's a poem, "The Pessimist." In it, I say, "Joy fleets. / Sorrow bears the atom / of a stain." It's the transience of (my) joy which makes it difficult for me to write on. But lately, I've been trying to change that, the mentality that joy or happiness can't be nuanced like sorrow. That stance translates to a kind of glorification of depression in art, and I do not want to be a promoter of that. Recently, I wrote a happy, light-hearted poem. And I will do it again.
FJ:
Perhaps, a one-on-one poetry workshop with Kaveh Akbar would make you joyous enough to churn out real joyous poems as I know you really love the man, hahaha. Where do you see Samuel A. Adeyemi in five years?
SA:
(breaks into laughter) I absolutely adore him. In five years, I imagine significant growth in my writing and personal life. I should have another chapbook, maybe a full-length, a full beard, and I should be in a better place mentally and physically.
FJ:
So help you, God. Amen. If you weren't a poet, what do you think you'd have been doing?
SA:
Maybe music. Music is a very important part of my life; I cannot do without it. It has saved me countless times. I sing to some extent, and my rap skills are pretty impressive.
FJ:
Remarkable. Speaking of support systems, do you have any? How did you rise to becoming one of the poignant voices in today's Nigerian contemporary poetry?
SA:
Way to put me on a pedestal, hahaha. I think the people who continually read my works, drop nice comments and messages on my social media, and talk about my art in general are my support system. Without them, I wouldn't be anything—just brilliance rotting away, and that's hardly any brilliance. I wouldn't be where I am today without them. Also, late last year, I met a community of amazing writers, and together we formed The Deadliners. We're practically family, supporting each other and growing together. I am thankful for them.
FJ:
I'm particularly interested in this your family. For our readers, could you be more precise, please? What exactly do you all do to help yourselves? How do you ‘help each other to grow?’ Briefly, please.
SA:
Oh, we do a lot of things. Say, one of us gets a new publication. We would make sure to read the work and promote it. Once in a while, a member may send a draft and anyone can offer comments or suggestions. It's all healthy stuff. We also share links to opportunities and helpful materials, dissect each other's works, have healthy arguments, bants, readings, and converse about writing in general. It's beautiful. Collectives like that can be very powerful.
You wouldn't mind me, Samuel. Since I read the poem, it stayed with me. Particularly, “I am still the first child of / a marriage waltzing on the nape of a precipice” and “Husband, take / your wife & flower a kiss upon her head. Wife, take / your husband & pluck out the sorrow from his lip.” More than I felt the mood of the poem, I guess I always returned to the poem to empathize with the poet—you. And yes, no marriage is perfect. My parents do argue, but it has never gravitated into violence. And thank you for stating that, too. Just so you know, I resonate with majority of your poems. More than the language, I always love to sit in that situation that inspired the poem and grieve with the poet—you, squeeze out the longing, too. I must appreciate you for always putting your mood into your poems and doing it in a way that leaves the reader hypnotized . . .
Since you are moved by your moods, tell me, please, what theme(s) do you find challenging? I do not think there should be any challenge for someone like you, except the mood isn't there, right?
SA:
Oh, it's alright, Flourish. And those were my favourite lines as well. Thank you for the kind words and your empathy. You're intentional about what you enjoy, and that's beautiful. The theme(s) I find challenging? I'd say joy—as in, the theme of actually being joyful, not the absence of joy. Most times when I write about joy, it's centered on the lack of it or the yearning for it. Does this mean I don't experience joy? Of course not. It's just a little challenging writing about it, especially extensively. In my chapbook, there's a poem, "The Pessimist." In it, I say, "Joy fleets. / Sorrow bears the atom / of a stain." It's the transience of (my) joy which makes it difficult for me to write on. But lately, I've been trying to change that, the mentality that joy or happiness can't be nuanced like sorrow. That stance translates to a kind of glorification of depression in art, and I do not want to be a promoter of that. Recently, I wrote a happy, light-hearted poem. And I will do it again.
FJ:
Perhaps, a one-on-one poetry workshop with Kaveh Akbar would make you joyous enough to churn out real joyous poems as I know you really love the man, hahaha. Where do you see Samuel A. Adeyemi in five years?
SA:
(breaks into laughter) I absolutely adore him. In five years, I imagine significant growth in my writing and personal life. I should have another chapbook, maybe a full-length, a full beard, and I should be in a better place mentally and physically.
FJ:
So help you, God. Amen. If you weren't a poet, what do you think you'd have been doing?
SA:
Maybe music. Music is a very important part of my life; I cannot do without it. It has saved me countless times. I sing to some extent, and my rap skills are pretty impressive.
FJ:
Remarkable. Speaking of support systems, do you have any? How did you rise to becoming one of the poignant voices in today's Nigerian contemporary poetry?
SA:
Way to put me on a pedestal, hahaha. I think the people who continually read my works, drop nice comments and messages on my social media, and talk about my art in general are my support system. Without them, I wouldn't be anything—just brilliance rotting away, and that's hardly any brilliance. I wouldn't be where I am today without them. Also, late last year, I met a community of amazing writers, and together we formed The Deadliners. We're practically family, supporting each other and growing together. I am thankful for them.
FJ:
I'm particularly interested in this your family. For our readers, could you be more precise, please? What exactly do you all do to help yourselves? How do you ‘help each other to grow?’ Briefly, please.
SA:
Oh, we do a lot of things. Say, one of us gets a new publication. We would make sure to read the work and promote it. Once in a while, a member may send a draft and anyone can offer comments or suggestions. It's all healthy stuff. We also share links to opportunities and helpful materials, dissect each other's works, have healthy arguments, bants, readings, and converse about writing in general. It's beautiful. Collectives like that can be very powerful.
"For emerging poets, all I can advise is to read. It sounds like boring advice, but that is all I know that has worked for me. I do not know any other shortcut. Read and read, then wait... Be patient and diligent in your patience. Wonder will find you."
FJ:
Wholesome! Before I let you go, if literary magazines were a refuge, where are we most likely to find you? And why, please?
SA:
I doubt I treat literary magazines like a refuge these days. Maybe before, when I was less busy with school work and all. But I think the magazines I still return to often would include Lolwe, POETRY, Rattle, Barren Magazine, The West Review, and The Adroit Journal. This is mostly because some of the works I love are published there. I like the fonts and UI of some of them as well. It's the little things sometimes.
FJ:
Haha. Finally, I’ve found someone who likes a journal for the font and UI. I thought I was the only weirdo.
Now, let's talk about something sensitive, please. Certain individuals posit that that the literary scene is kinder to folks with diverse sexualities, especially in a country as homophobic as ours (Nigeria), often raising alarmist concerns about a future monopoly of literary merits. What are your thoughts on this?
SA:
Certainly, the literary scene is more accommodating to people with diverse sexualities now than ever before. There is more representation. Notably, magazines have been formed by writers who identify with these marginalized sexualities to promote and support the voices of other writers alike. To bring things home, there's a newly established magazine, Dgëku, which is focused on publishing works from African creatives who are a part of the LGBTQ+ community. I think that is brave, considering the general African attitude to issues of sexuality. If by monopolized, you mean control over the literary scene, I would disagree with such voices. I don't think what they want is control, but visibility. But if, by monopolized, you mean upliftment, then yes! There would be even more representation in the future.
Wholesome! Before I let you go, if literary magazines were a refuge, where are we most likely to find you? And why, please?
SA:
I doubt I treat literary magazines like a refuge these days. Maybe before, when I was less busy with school work and all. But I think the magazines I still return to often would include Lolwe, POETRY, Rattle, Barren Magazine, The West Review, and The Adroit Journal. This is mostly because some of the works I love are published there. I like the fonts and UI of some of them as well. It's the little things sometimes.
FJ:
Haha. Finally, I’ve found someone who likes a journal for the font and UI. I thought I was the only weirdo.
Now, let's talk about something sensitive, please. Certain individuals posit that that the literary scene is kinder to folks with diverse sexualities, especially in a country as homophobic as ours (Nigeria), often raising alarmist concerns about a future monopoly of literary merits. What are your thoughts on this?
SA:
Certainly, the literary scene is more accommodating to people with diverse sexualities now than ever before. There is more representation. Notably, magazines have been formed by writers who identify with these marginalized sexualities to promote and support the voices of other writers alike. To bring things home, there's a newly established magazine, Dgëku, which is focused on publishing works from African creatives who are a part of the LGBTQ+ community. I think that is brave, considering the general African attitude to issues of sexuality. If by monopolized, you mean control over the literary scene, I would disagree with such voices. I don't think what they want is control, but visibility. But if, by monopolized, you mean upliftment, then yes! There would be even more representation in the future.
FJ:
Brilliant. There have always been unnecessary speculations regarding that. Briefly, Samuel, let's talk about your chap, “Heaven Is A Metaphor.” Permit me, please. Although, this may be difficult, but tell me, of the poems in your chap, which is your favourite, and why?
SA:
Ah. Difficult question, indeed. I have about three poems in the chapbook I consider my favourites, for different reasons. If I must pick just one of them, it will be “Applying Psalms 121 to a Gentile.” It's one of the oldest poems in the collection and it has gone through a number of rejections and editing, the small poem. Why that one? I think it represents the whole book well. You can ask me what the chapbook is about and I will direct you to that poem. To me, it summarizes the whole idea of the entire work. Another reason it's my favourite is because it has some lines I really love:
Prayer reminds me
what absence tethers me from,
when I fold myself to kneel as a saint,
a lily wilts before my teeth.
I do not usually feel confident about anything I write (and this annoys my friends, hahaha), but when those lines clicked in my head, I was like, “Yep. Banger.”
FJ:
Not forgetting to add that, your chap is too brilliant to not be for sale. But I guess it's proof that not all cheap things are of less value. Thank you for keeping it simple, Samuel.
Leave me with a snippet of what you're working on or/and what we should expect from you. Then, a piece of encouraging advice for emerging poets, please.
SA:
Thank you. The book was an offering. What to expect from me? I honestly do not know. I just got that chapbook published and immediately, I had to write a new manuscript, under two weeks, for something dreamy I was invited to submit to. The burnout was massive. I have barely been able to write and complete anything new since then. And I do not feel pressured to do so. Heck, if not once last month, I haven't submitted to any magazine in a long time. All I want to do is relax, read, and learn more. Of course, since writing is almost instinctive for me, I do scribble down some things once in a while, but I do not force myself to do so. With the work I've put out this year, I think I can afford to rest for a while. Anyway, here's a snippet from a stubborn poem I've been working on:
"The world, untouched, is beautiful.
So beautiful, guilt should sever our hands
when we taint it with any filth. Tell me,
how would you dare redden here? This land
flowering with milk & hyacinths. The night
is so blue, to murder a man should be evitable.
Yet the streets smell of death, smoke from
ammunition poisoning the evening breeze.
& everything with a body runs. An errand
girl runs, leaves the tap to run. The tap may
be a tap or a blood vessel. But who has time
to check the metaphor? See, even the poem
runs."
For emerging poets, all I can advise is to read. It sounds like boring advice, but that is all I know that has worked for me. I do not know any other shortcut. Read and read, then wait. There is no flourish without patience. I do not write like I did two years ago. Next year, I will not write like I do now. Be patient and diligent in your patience. Wonder will find you.
FJ:
Damn! This snippet is fire. Samuel, your poetry is proof that creativity is inexhaustible. I pray you live long to achieve every of your dreams. And that when you die, that will be the only thing left for you to do.
And may I highlight something in your advice to emerging poets: “Be patient and diligent in your patience. Wonder will find you.” Phew!
I really do not want to let you go, but I have to. I enjoyed and appreciate your time, Samuel. I look forward to blessings from your recently-concluded chap. Thank you so much for leaving a particle of your brilliance with me.
Stay well. Eat well. Survive.
SA:
Thank you very much for the kind words and prayers, Flourish. I appreciate you having me. I thoroughly enjoyed the session. Do take care of yourself.
Brilliant. There have always been unnecessary speculations regarding that. Briefly, Samuel, let's talk about your chap, “Heaven Is A Metaphor.” Permit me, please. Although, this may be difficult, but tell me, of the poems in your chap, which is your favourite, and why?
SA:
Ah. Difficult question, indeed. I have about three poems in the chapbook I consider my favourites, for different reasons. If I must pick just one of them, it will be “Applying Psalms 121 to a Gentile.” It's one of the oldest poems in the collection and it has gone through a number of rejections and editing, the small poem. Why that one? I think it represents the whole book well. You can ask me what the chapbook is about and I will direct you to that poem. To me, it summarizes the whole idea of the entire work. Another reason it's my favourite is because it has some lines I really love:
Prayer reminds me
what absence tethers me from,
when I fold myself to kneel as a saint,
a lily wilts before my teeth.
I do not usually feel confident about anything I write (and this annoys my friends, hahaha), but when those lines clicked in my head, I was like, “Yep. Banger.”
FJ:
Not forgetting to add that, your chap is too brilliant to not be for sale. But I guess it's proof that not all cheap things are of less value. Thank you for keeping it simple, Samuel.
Leave me with a snippet of what you're working on or/and what we should expect from you. Then, a piece of encouraging advice for emerging poets, please.
SA:
Thank you. The book was an offering. What to expect from me? I honestly do not know. I just got that chapbook published and immediately, I had to write a new manuscript, under two weeks, for something dreamy I was invited to submit to. The burnout was massive. I have barely been able to write and complete anything new since then. And I do not feel pressured to do so. Heck, if not once last month, I haven't submitted to any magazine in a long time. All I want to do is relax, read, and learn more. Of course, since writing is almost instinctive for me, I do scribble down some things once in a while, but I do not force myself to do so. With the work I've put out this year, I think I can afford to rest for a while. Anyway, here's a snippet from a stubborn poem I've been working on:
"The world, untouched, is beautiful.
So beautiful, guilt should sever our hands
when we taint it with any filth. Tell me,
how would you dare redden here? This land
flowering with milk & hyacinths. The night
is so blue, to murder a man should be evitable.
Yet the streets smell of death, smoke from
ammunition poisoning the evening breeze.
& everything with a body runs. An errand
girl runs, leaves the tap to run. The tap may
be a tap or a blood vessel. But who has time
to check the metaphor? See, even the poem
runs."
For emerging poets, all I can advise is to read. It sounds like boring advice, but that is all I know that has worked for me. I do not know any other shortcut. Read and read, then wait. There is no flourish without patience. I do not write like I did two years ago. Next year, I will not write like I do now. Be patient and diligent in your patience. Wonder will find you.
FJ:
Damn! This snippet is fire. Samuel, your poetry is proof that creativity is inexhaustible. I pray you live long to achieve every of your dreams. And that when you die, that will be the only thing left for you to do.
And may I highlight something in your advice to emerging poets: “Be patient and diligent in your patience. Wonder will find you.” Phew!
I really do not want to let you go, but I have to. I enjoyed and appreciate your time, Samuel. I look forward to blessings from your recently-concluded chap. Thank you so much for leaving a particle of your brilliance with me.
Stay well. Eat well. Survive.
SA:
Thank you very much for the kind words and prayers, Flourish. I appreciate you having me. I thoroughly enjoyed the session. Do take care of yourself.
BIO:
Samuel A. Adeyemi is the author of the chapbook, Heaven is a Metaphor. He is a Poetry Editor at Afro Literary Magazine and a Poetry Reader at Salamander Ink. A Best of the Net Nominee and the winner of The Yellow House Library Prize for Creativity and Teex Prize for Performance 2021, Nigerian Student Poetry Prize 2021, his poems have appeared in Palette Poetry, Frontier Poetry, 580 Split, The Maine Review, Blue Marble Review, Brittle Paper, Jalada, and elsewhere. When he is not writing, he enjoys watching anime and listening to a variety of music. You may reach him on Twitter and Instagram @samuelpoetry.
Download Samuel’s Chapbook here.
Samuel A. Adeyemi is the author of the chapbook, Heaven is a Metaphor. He is a Poetry Editor at Afro Literary Magazine and a Poetry Reader at Salamander Ink. A Best of the Net Nominee and the winner of The Yellow House Library Prize for Creativity and Teex Prize for Performance 2021, Nigerian Student Poetry Prize 2021, his poems have appeared in Palette Poetry, Frontier Poetry, 580 Split, The Maine Review, Blue Marble Review, Brittle Paper, Jalada, and elsewhere. When he is not writing, he enjoys watching anime and listening to a variety of music. You may reach him on Twitter and Instagram @samuelpoetry.
Download Samuel’s Chapbook here.