Uvi Poznansky's Blog, page 207
May 4, 2014
In our family, forgiveness is something you pray for
May 2, 2014
The past you imagined was all lies, lies, lies
Don’t open your eyes
Try not to see
Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
That voice—is it her?
Behind a closed door
She calls you a stranger
Your mother no more
Breathe through the moment
Turn, turn your eyes
The past you imagined
Was all lies, lies, lies
Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
Who is this stranger
Is it still me?
Listen to the narration, performed by the lovely actress, Kathy Bell Denton:
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Home
★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★"the book overflows with some of the most eloquent poetic moments in print"
Try not to see
Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
That voice—is it her?
Behind a closed door
She calls you a stranger
Your mother no more
Breathe through the moment
Turn, turn your eyes
The past you imagined
Was all lies, lies, lies
Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
Who is this stranger
Is it still me?
Listen to the narration, performed by the lovely actress, Kathy Bell Denton:
If your browser wouldn't play it, try this.
★ Love poetry? Get this book ★
Home
★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★"the book overflows with some of the most eloquent poetic moments in print"
May 1, 2014
I touch my belly and feel the beginning, the very beginning of change
"I gaze across the ceiling and along the walls, trying to pick out every shade, every hint. And there, opposite the bed I spot my wedding dress which—now I recall—I’ve hung on the coat rack, right there in the corner.
The corner of the bedroom is the only place here which I reckon is truly mine. Strange, no? I still feel that way, despite having slept here with him, on and off, for like, the past ten years. I keep telling myself that I must claim this space, claim it as mine, right away. And maybe I will one day, when the baby’s born. Staring at that corner I know one thing, and I know it real clear, at once: this lovely dress, made of heavy satin and trimmed with lace and beading and what not, which I’ve dyed, the morning after the wedding, orange at the top and purple at the bottom, so it can still be used in the future—like, at dances and parties and stuff—this dress isn’t gonna to fit me no more. Up to now I’ve pictured it in my head, shining awful brilliant, just like a rainbow, and swirling all around me; and with every step, billowing between my legs, and like, making me adorable, so adorable in Lenny’s eyes—but now that I touch my belly and feel the beginning, the very beginning of change, right here around my waist, what’s the point of all that."
Anita, in Apart From Love.
This is my charcoal drawing titled The Wedding Dress, inspired by a wedding dress that a friend of mine inherited from her mother. In it I contrast the loveliness of the dress, and all the dreams it invokes, with the nakedness of the figure, who at this point is left without illusions.
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Apart From Love★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★“The attention to detail showcases the smooth pen of the author”
The corner of the bedroom is the only place here which I reckon is truly mine. Strange, no? I still feel that way, despite having slept here with him, on and off, for like, the past ten years. I keep telling myself that I must claim this space, claim it as mine, right away. And maybe I will one day, when the baby’s born. Staring at that corner I know one thing, and I know it real clear, at once: this lovely dress, made of heavy satin and trimmed with lace and beading and what not, which I’ve dyed, the morning after the wedding, orange at the top and purple at the bottom, so it can still be used in the future—like, at dances and parties and stuff—this dress isn’t gonna to fit me no more. Up to now I’ve pictured it in my head, shining awful brilliant, just like a rainbow, and swirling all around me; and with every step, billowing between my legs, and like, making me adorable, so adorable in Lenny’s eyes—but now that I touch my belly and feel the beginning, the very beginning of change, right here around my waist, what’s the point of all that."
Anita, in Apart From Love.
This is my charcoal drawing titled The Wedding Dress, inspired by a wedding dress that a friend of mine inherited from her mother. In it I contrast the loveliness of the dress, and all the dreams it invokes, with the nakedness of the figure, who at this point is left without illusions.
★ Treat yourself to a gift! Get this book ★
Apart From Love★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★“The attention to detail showcases the smooth pen of the author”
A Peek at Bathsheba
"So far I doubt she has caught the sound of my footfalls. I edge closer, advancing stealthily along the shadow, a seemingly endless shadow cast across the flat surface of her roof by my tower. Never once do I stop to remind myself that such behavior is unbecoming of a king.
And who can blame me? In her presence I am reduced to a boy.I must find a way to impress her. Which is why I brought my crown along, even though it sits somewhat uncomfortably on my head. It is a bit too large for me, and too heavy, too.On my way I leap across a staircase, leading down from the roof. On a railing, here in front of me, hangs a large Egyptian towel, as if to mark a barrier. I tell myself, This isn’t right. I should stop, stop right here and whatever happens I should cover my eyes, avoid taking a peep at her... Shall I turn back? And immediately I answer by asking, What? Stopping midway is nothing short of a sin...You’ll never forgive yourself... To which I say, stop talking to yourself already! Are you out of your mind?Behind the towel I can see a puff of steam rising. Bathsheba must have poured boiling water into her tub only a minute ago. One kettle, set down by the claw-foot of the thing, has been emptied, the other—still full, waiting for its turn. Now, out of the swirl of vapors, her shoulders start to take shape."
David in Rise to Power
This is my watercolor painting of Bathsheba. I am thinking of using this painting for the cover of my next book, Bathsheba (The David Chronicles.)
★ Like reading? Get this book ★Rise to Power★ Ebook ★ Print ★ Audio ★
“What a treat to have the story of David presented in such a stimulating manner”
And who can blame me? In her presence I am reduced to a boy.I must find a way to impress her. Which is why I brought my crown along, even though it sits somewhat uncomfortably on my head. It is a bit too large for me, and too heavy, too.On my way I leap across a staircase, leading down from the roof. On a railing, here in front of me, hangs a large Egyptian towel, as if to mark a barrier. I tell myself, This isn’t right. I should stop, stop right here and whatever happens I should cover my eyes, avoid taking a peep at her... Shall I turn back? And immediately I answer by asking, What? Stopping midway is nothing short of a sin...You’ll never forgive yourself... To which I say, stop talking to yourself already! Are you out of your mind?Behind the towel I can see a puff of steam rising. Bathsheba must have poured boiling water into her tub only a minute ago. One kettle, set down by the claw-foot of the thing, has been emptied, the other—still full, waiting for its turn. Now, out of the swirl of vapors, her shoulders start to take shape."
David in Rise to Power
This is my watercolor painting of Bathsheba. I am thinking of using this painting for the cover of my next book, Bathsheba (The David Chronicles.)
★ Like reading? Get this book ★Rise to Power★ Ebook ★ Print ★ Audio ★
“What a treat to have the story of David presented in such a stimulating manner”
April 30, 2014
She was air, she was music!
"The piano towered over everything. It seemed so massive, so out of place that you had to squeeze around it, or else crawl underneath the belly of the thing.
But when mom played it, all that did not matter. The walls vanished and so did the clutter, because it was so riveting to watch her. You could see her long, delicate fingers as they went flying over the keys, to the point of turning, magically, into a blur. Her hands became transparent, and her ring, I remember, turned into a glow. She was air, she was music! Even when she stopped playing, those strings inside were still reverberating..."
Ben in Apart From Love
Going back to his childhood memories, Ben unveils his unflinching admiration to the most important woman in his life, up to this point: his mother, the inspired and inspiring pianist. His admiration will later stand in the way of him accepting her present condition. But for now, it is focused on one aspect: her hands. Long, delicate fingers, a symbol of her talent, and the one physical aspect that serves as a contrast between her and and his father's new wife, Anita.
Here is Ben (narrated by the gifted David Kudler) describing his mother's hands:
If your browser wouldn't play it, try this.
And here is a quick charcoal sketch I made of her hands dancing in the air. I attempted to impart this same feeling of nobility and inspiration that my text evokes:
★ Treat yourself to a gift! Get this book ★Apart From Love★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
"An inspiring novel by an amazing woman: a writer, poet, sculptor. It spurred me to write again"
But when mom played it, all that did not matter. The walls vanished and so did the clutter, because it was so riveting to watch her. You could see her long, delicate fingers as they went flying over the keys, to the point of turning, magically, into a blur. Her hands became transparent, and her ring, I remember, turned into a glow. She was air, she was music! Even when she stopped playing, those strings inside were still reverberating..."
Ben in Apart From Love
Going back to his childhood memories, Ben unveils his unflinching admiration to the most important woman in his life, up to this point: his mother, the inspired and inspiring pianist. His admiration will later stand in the way of him accepting her present condition. But for now, it is focused on one aspect: her hands. Long, delicate fingers, a symbol of her talent, and the one physical aspect that serves as a contrast between her and and his father's new wife, Anita.
Here is Ben (narrated by the gifted David Kudler) describing his mother's hands:
If your browser wouldn't play it, try this.
And here is a quick charcoal sketch I made of her hands dancing in the air. I attempted to impart this same feeling of nobility and inspiration that my text evokes:
★ Treat yourself to a gift! Get this book ★Apart From Love★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
"An inspiring novel by an amazing woman: a writer, poet, sculptor. It spurred me to write again"
April 29, 2014
It is the touch he remembers, the touch of my mother’s hand
“Something here smells so good,” says Eliab. “Brings to mind the old, gnarled olive tree in the garden, just outside our window... Doesn’t it?”I untie my satchel from the saddle, lift the flap, remove my lyre from the top so he can take a good look inside. “Here,” I say, “take a sniff.”Eliab seems to swoon at the sight of food, and at once his eyes tear up. It must be more than a simple hunger. Perhaps it is the memory of the warmth of our kitchen back home, when steam puffs up the dough, just before it cools down to create the air pocket in the center of the bread. Or else, it is the touch he remembers, the touch of my mother’s hand as she sprinkles some sesame seeds all over the top.I let the flap fall back and at once, the smell of our olive tree is cut off. Eliab grabs the satchel from my hand. I snatch it right back.“Hand it over,” growls my brother. “Right now, I said, or else.”“Is it true,” I ask, teasingly, “that the most important qualification of a soldier is endurance?”“What the hell is that,” his nostrils flare wide. “What d’you mean, endurance?”“I mean, holding out as best you can, under fatigue and privation.”“Don’t you play with me now. Hand the thing over!”“I’ve heard,” I go on, “that the most important wish of a soldier is to die with honor. Is it true? I mean, we’re all destined to die, right? Can a few days of life equal the glory, I mean, the glory of dying for your country?”“Enough!” he bellows. “I’ve had it with this nonsense! Hell, I’ll die of hunger way before glory comes.”“Oh, I see! If not for craving a morsel of food, you’re a regular hero,” say I. “Wouldn’t a medal be grand? Or a bit of colored ribbon, perhaps?”“Enough already,” his voice bursts to an exasperated rasp. “You be careful, or I’ll tell mom about you! If somehow you manage to come out of here alive, I’ll make damn sure she kills you.”
David in Rise to Power
The excerpt describes David as a young boy, bringing food for his brothers shortly before he is sent out to face Goliath.
David by Barry Moser
★ Love reading? Treat yourself to a gift ★Rise to Power★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
“What a treat to have the story of David presented in such a stimulating manner”
David in Rise to Power
The excerpt describes David as a young boy, bringing food for his brothers shortly before he is sent out to face Goliath.
David by Barry Moser★ Love reading? Treat yourself to a gift ★Rise to Power★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
“What a treat to have the story of David presented in such a stimulating manner”
April 28, 2014
♡ MOM: Come shake hands with my author friends
My author friends have joined forces with me!We bring you amazing stories, narrated by great voice actors, just in time for Mother's Day. Click the profile image or the name of each one of us to learn about our workThen go to ♡ Mom and join to win!
Elaine Raco Chase
"If you like romances that are sexy, sassy & too much fun - you have found the right author!"@ElaineRaco
Uvi Poznansky
"I paint with my pen, and write with my paintbrush"@UviPoznansky
Stephanie Queen
"Romance in every mystery and mystery in every romance --with a dash of humor every where!"@StephanieQueen
Marie Campisi
"One true love, one honest hope, one more chance..."@MaryCampisi
Ruth Cardello
"Saving the world one billionaire at a time"@RuthieCardello
Donna Fasano
"Romance that warms the heart"@DonnaFaz
Charity Parkerson
"Be careful what you lust for..."@CharityParkerso
Libby Fischer Hellmann
"Author of compulsively readable thrillers"@libbyhellmann
Stacy Juba
"Mystery, Romance, and YA featuring Characters at a Crossroads"@stacyjuba
Barbara Silkstone
"There is no second chance at first love."@barbsilkstone
Aaron Paul Lazar
"Addictive, award-winning fiction. You'll fall in love with the characters and love to hate the villains.”
@aplazar
James DiBenedetto
"What would you do if you could see other people's dreams?"
@JJDiBenedetto
John A. Miller
"I write with a vivid imagination that has no limits."
@JohnAMiller7
She wraps her arms around his frail shoulders, draws closely and kisses him
"I hear the slight rustle of her skirt, and her soft voice saying, “Wait, Isaac—” just before it becomes muffled. So sharply, so unexpectedly does it happen, that it makes me giddy with curiosity; and so, I do what I have to do: I lift the flap of the tent, allowing light in, to peek in on them; and what I see leaves me dumbfounded. There she is, kneeling down before him amidst ripples of silk. She wraps her arms around his frail shoulders, draws closely and kisses him, long and full, on his mouth. And then, when she rises up, you can see that his face is confused, and his hand is trembling a little."
In this excerpt Yankle describes his mother Becky, modeled after the biblical figure of Rebecca. Her husband Isaac is lying on his deathbed. He is blind, and waiting for his firstborn son Esav to come back from the hunt, so he can give him the blessing. Becky plots to deceive the old man. In my story, A Favorite Son, she goes into his tent to say her last farewell, and just before sending Jacob in to execute her criminal plan, she kisses her husband. Watching this from a distance, Yankle says:
"I have to wonder: What was that kiss? Her way to say farewell? Was it inspired by some old memory, some image of their younger days—or else, was it designed to make him vulnerable, make him ready for me, just in time for my entrance? I agonize, I puzzle over that kiss. Was it act of love—or of deceit?"
Take a listen to this paragraph read by my gifted narrator, David Kudler:
If your browser wouldn't play it, try this.
My small clay sculpture, The skirt
★ Love reading? Treat yourself to a gift ★A Favorite Son★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
In this excerpt Yankle describes his mother Becky, modeled after the biblical figure of Rebecca. Her husband Isaac is lying on his deathbed. He is blind, and waiting for his firstborn son Esav to come back from the hunt, so he can give him the blessing. Becky plots to deceive the old man. In my story, A Favorite Son, she goes into his tent to say her last farewell, and just before sending Jacob in to execute her criminal plan, she kisses her husband. Watching this from a distance, Yankle says:
"I have to wonder: What was that kiss? Her way to say farewell? Was it inspired by some old memory, some image of their younger days—or else, was it designed to make him vulnerable, make him ready for me, just in time for my entrance? I agonize, I puzzle over that kiss. Was it act of love—or of deceit?"
Take a listen to this paragraph read by my gifted narrator, David Kudler:
If your browser wouldn't play it, try this.
My small clay sculpture, The skirt★ Love reading? Treat yourself to a gift ★A Favorite Son★ Audio ★ Ebook ★ Print ★
April 26, 2014
A chronicle of desire
Paul Douglas Lovell is an up and coming author, having published a unique autobiography, Paulyanna International Rent-boy. I am deeply moved by his review, which comes from the heart and guts, of my novel Apart From Love:
5.0 out of 5 stars LEISURELY, April 26, 2014By Paul Douglas Lovell "PDL" (Switzerland) - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Apart From Love (Kindle Edition)
Although ‘Apart from Love’ is a tale about love it is no romance-novel. More a chronicle of desire. An introspective read that covers, from the view-point of multiple characters some of life’s issues.
Now I won’t go into plot details - They are in the book-blurb. I’m also not going to attempt to bosh out a review in a wordy intellectual way either. I don’t consider myself ‘well-read’ enough. Besides I prefer to speak from an emotional viewpoint. So here goes.
I first read samples of Uvi Poznansky’s work in way of her self-promoted advertisements posted on social media. Initially I was attracted by the richness of her book-cover artwork and then drawn in by the caress of her verse. I found her words possessed a special kind of tenderness. Something I felt my own writing lacked.
I decided I could use a lesson in regard to her rhythmic delivery of contemplative prose. The way she captures subtle nuances in glimpses and reflections. Or teases out emotions with a pause in her dialogue. She fashions both fleshly desire and clean naughtiness so adeptly.
It wasn’t long before I was reading and liking every post.
I particularly like this line from the book...
The waves roll in, threatening to swallow us whole. With a roar in their widening mouth, they are leaping ahead, then lapping the sand angrily, foam on their lip.
‘Apart from Love’ is a leisurely read that allows you to enjoy the moment of actually reading. This is what I get from Uvi Poznansky, what I admire mostly in her work.
When women are romantically depicted, enjoying a piece of chocolate whilst engrossed in a novel. This is exactly the type of stuff they are reading.
Paul Douglas Lovell.
5.0 out of 5 stars LEISURELY, April 26, 2014By Paul Douglas Lovell "PDL" (Switzerland) - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Apart From Love (Kindle Edition)
Although ‘Apart from Love’ is a tale about love it is no romance-novel. More a chronicle of desire. An introspective read that covers, from the view-point of multiple characters some of life’s issues.Now I won’t go into plot details - They are in the book-blurb. I’m also not going to attempt to bosh out a review in a wordy intellectual way either. I don’t consider myself ‘well-read’ enough. Besides I prefer to speak from an emotional viewpoint. So here goes.
I first read samples of Uvi Poznansky’s work in way of her self-promoted advertisements posted on social media. Initially I was attracted by the richness of her book-cover artwork and then drawn in by the caress of her verse. I found her words possessed a special kind of tenderness. Something I felt my own writing lacked.
I decided I could use a lesson in regard to her rhythmic delivery of contemplative prose. The way she captures subtle nuances in glimpses and reflections. Or teases out emotions with a pause in her dialogue. She fashions both fleshly desire and clean naughtiness so adeptly.
It wasn’t long before I was reading and liking every post.
I particularly like this line from the book...
The waves roll in, threatening to swallow us whole. With a roar in their widening mouth, they are leaping ahead, then lapping the sand angrily, foam on their lip.
‘Apart from Love’ is a leisurely read that allows you to enjoy the moment of actually reading. This is what I get from Uvi Poznansky, what I admire mostly in her work.
When women are romantically depicted, enjoying a piece of chocolate whilst engrossed in a novel. This is exactly the type of stuff they are reading.
Paul Douglas Lovell.
Characters at a Crossroads
Stacy Juba loves to write about Characters at a Crossroads: individuals who are finding themselves and getting on the right life path after overcoming obstacles. I am thrilled that she invited me to talk about one of my characters, David, whom we find at a crossroads:
“I lay the armor down at the king’s feet. It is leaning down there against my broken lyre. And a thought crosses my mind: here are the relics I am about to leave behind. Combat gear on one side—my string instrument on the other. Which way will I be remembered? Am I a fighter—or a poet?”
To read more of my post on her blog, please click Characters at a Crossroads.
“I lay the armor down at the king’s feet. It is leaning down there against my broken lyre. And a thought crosses my mind: here are the relics I am about to leave behind. Combat gear on one side—my string instrument on the other. Which way will I be remembered? Am I a fighter—or a poet?”
To read more of my post on her blog, please click Characters at a Crossroads.
