New Book Alert: Walking Through Memory Lane

New Book Alert: Walking Through Memory Lane | by Inufin Ayomide d'great

Here's a new one from one of Nigeria's fine fingered fellows. He's a poet passionate about modern day poetry, painting with words, societal happens and real life trends.

Tittle: Walking Through Memory Lane

Author: Inufin Ayomide d'great

Book Price: #500

Genre: Poetry

DESCRIPTION

This anthology is based on the mindset of the poet who took his thoughts down memory lane about things happening around him. The anthology serves as an eye opener and a doorway to enlightenment about the present day happenings. The writings centralized on self discovery, recovery, a woman's life, truelove and heartbreak, power, reality in religion, physical and spiritual psychological illumination, the realities of life, fashion, modern day trends, awareness and the likes.

This anthology is a full package of an all round life activities that shows the reality of this present time.

ABOUT AUTHOR:

Inufin Ayomide better known as Ayomide d'great is a young Nigerian writer, poet, public speaker, presenter,voice artist and lyricist. He is a graduate of the university of Ibadan with a bachelors degree in library and information science. His writings edifies modern day poetry and they're based on societal happenings and real life trends. He has received a few notable online awards in poetry and a few in other fields. He has collaborated with both writers within Nigeria, outside Nigeria and beyond the landmark of Africa.

Click button below to buy Walking Through Memory Lane | by Inufin Ayomide d'great on OkadaBooks

Enjoyed reading? Commenting is now easy.

I introduced Facebook Comment feature.

Please help my blog grow by leaving a comment and sharing with friends. Thank you!

Comments

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...

The Curve And Colors Of Hate | Uwen Precious Ogban

The Curve And Colors Of Hate When the evening news had broken Father spoke with a tone of pain and anger “Nigeria is a whore,” And my mother agreed Painting sensual scenes giving you pleasure of what looks like a garden that hides a landmine. And how trying to walk through it becomes slippery A journey asking for crimson libations, full of fractures and ‘Had I knowns’ while you looked over the fence for greener pastures Her sighs spoke of a menu full of thrills but you are served double horrors She, Nigeria, abhors you later on when it relinquishes you of value, Truly, she is an old ‘Whore’ My Father picked it from there, “Nigeria gets hard as rock” Wants of men despised Sullen moods recorded in poems, speeches, and events, snubbed For as long as it makes sultry suplex’s on a comfortable ring – Nigeria is satisfied “Son, Nigeria is you, your mum and I” Guilty to a fault Pained by happenings that come with fire and brimstone Let loose from bellies that should hold patriotis...

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

Search This Blog