Book Launch: You Are Loved And You Belong Here

Prose & Poetry Hood Publishers presents You Are Loved And You Belong Here, a collection of poems on the memories: perils, plights and pride of the writers’ homes.

You Are Loved And You Belong Here is a rich collection of letters to the depressed, sad and lonely. It is the ray of hope at the end. Beams brighter the light at the tunnel end.

To buy book Click Here

Depression is real. On daily basis, many take their lives to escape from the hurt and frustration that colour their lives in ugly shades of grey.

Naturally, humans desire to be loved, appreciated and even crave validation from loved ones, but not all seem to get this desire evenly satisfied.

Subtly, love-starved souls slip into depressed moods, from a distance, they watch love and acceptance fly past them into the arms of neighbours, colleagues, siblings, relatives, friends... but none ever rings their bell.

They feel unloved, unwanted, less human, inferior, sad, hurt, rejected, dejected and eventually, suicidal.

This book is a collection of letters, articles and daily musings that serves as a reminder to you, who’s emotionally bruised that You Are Loved, And You Belong Here.

To buy book on OkadaBooks Click Here

To buy book on Amazon Kindle Click Here

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Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

Featured Poem: Slavery In Africa - by Uwen Precious Ogban

SLAVERY IN AFRICA We believe they rowed their boats of tumults into our region; carrying with them bags of conundrums, while we drummed our drums and jollied to their, intonation. The way they dressed, the way they addressed us Made us mime to the harmony and yearns in their speeches of a dawn to civility and hale: that was a start of the course of slavery in Africa. We still thought they were our brothers, because our chiefs rolled floridly with their proposals While we were mockingly disposed of In the field, or given to bespoken tailors as apprehends; as helps; in servitude; ‘posed to carry out orders as the come in flicks. We became babies in our own motherland we became cartage of their foreign plans. We cleared our huts so that they could find comfy and build on our strengths draining our tears as they wryly whipped us on our backs. Their wisdom their prowess They used to molest And we gazed in cluelessness Cause we still didn’t see it as slavery then – but as pain, so enjoyable....

Jaachi Writes

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