Like visionary leaders, Duru believes what ties us together as a nation is more than what separates us whether from the North or South or East or West.
REVIEW: THE POEMS IN ‘HOW TO VIEW THE WORLD FROM A GLASS PRISM’ SEDUCE READERS TO STEP OUT OF THEIR HEADS AND GO SEARCHING FOR MEANING
The poems are surreal, like something in a dream, dissipating like mist and seducing the reader to step out of his head and go searching for meaning. Like every good work of art, How to View the World from a Glass Prism allows the reader to pick out diverse meanings in each line.
REVIEW: TAI OMOAKIN’S ‘BROKEN STRINGS’ IS NOT CLOUDED WITH IRRELEVANT ALLUSIONS AND OVER-FLOWERY DICTION
OmoAkin shows commendable adeptness with structure and tone, her rhythm is near perfect and the atmosphere and mood of her poems couldn’t have been better. Broken Strings isn’t clouded with irrelevant allusions and over-flowery diction.
i can’t wait to see you again (a poem by Kukogho Iruesiri Samson)
you laid here, on my bed
within ear reach and finger touch
but I was mute, crippled
more than mere flesh and bone (and 3 other poems by Linda M. Crate)
don’t get mad at women
for refusing you
we want to be seen as something more
than our mere flesh and bone
REVIEW: “SHOMEFUN TAKES THE GIRL CHILD THROUGH ALL THE CONFLICTS SHE MIGHT FACE AS A WOMAN” IN ‘A LETTER TO MY CHILD’
Shomefun takes the girl child through all the conflicts she might face as a woman while growing up, she brings out ways those conflicts can be handled, how to make decisions and overcome setbacks.
women don’t owe you anything (a poem by Linda M. Crate)
we don’t owe you anything
just because you were nice to us;
FAREWELL, NNEDI (a short story by Jason Joshua Chigozie)
Mama has always known pain. She had lost every battle in life, battles she fought armed with only love. As her accusers’ words stung her, she looked up and recounted her losses in loud wails punctuated by weeping bouts.
FESTIVAL OF CLOUDS (a poem by Salam Adejoke)
The wind hummed along
Then it was cloudy and windy
And soon all was bright and clear
And cloudy once again
HELIUM BALLOON (a poem by Franklyn Orode)
There are days when the coughing clouds spit acid on me
When rain comes pouring like prickly pieces of memories