YA/NA FANATICS discussion

I'm blessed for the pleasure, blessed for the agony
Blessed for the fear, the pain of it all
In which I was steeped, in this reality
And granted the chance to endure or to fall...

Take a listen to the poem in its entirety (from the audiobook edition of HOME):
I'm Blessed for the Pleasure, Blessed for the Agony

Renee Pierce Williams is the author of the five-star rated, GCBA-nominated book, Buck the Good Doog. Born and raised in Georgia, she began her seventeen-year career at Aflac, where she held positions in both the Marketing and Legal Documentation divisions of the company. I simply love her ★★★★★ review of my poetry book, Home.

★★★★★ "HOME" is where the heart is..., September 3, 2013
By Renee Pierce Williams - See all my reviews
This review is from: Home (Kindle Edition)
This is the second book I have read by the multi-talented, poet, artist and author, Uvi Poznansky. After the passing of her father; author, poet and artist, Zeev Kachel, Poznansky stumbles upon years of his unpublished poems, plays and stories. She spends a year translating his works from his native Hebrew to English.

This is a father-daughter collaboration by two very gifted artists. Both share the very unique and rare gift of capturing their reader by painting their characters with a pen. If you have lived, you or someone close to you, has experienced some of the darkness this life has to offer. Poznansky does an outstanding job of translating her father's pain and loneliness into relatable works of art.

This book is both a lovely tribute and another fine display of talent.

I invite you to read the lovely entries by writers and poets from around the world. The theme is "Longing for a place we can no longer reach", in celebration of Home.

Then cast your vote for your favorite entry in the writing contest!

I’ll be yours, you’ll be mine
Bring a flower, uncork the wine
Come home tomorrow, don’t be late
We’ll have our moment, we’ll have a date!

Our Home event is fast coming to its high point (Fri 09/06 @ 2:00pm PST.)
Don't miss the Grand Finale!

☻ We’ll celebrate with bread, wine, cheese, desserts... Virtually delicious!
☻ I’ll be nnouncing the 3 front-runners of the WRITING CONTEST, plus--
☻ Surprise!--a wildcard winner, picked by me out of a hat, plus--
☻ I’ll be announcing the winner of the RAFFLE



★★★★★
" Written in an elegant style, this publication contains
both poems and story-like sections of prose.
It's lyrical, expressive, and poignant"
Treat yourself to a gift
★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★

If you have missed my Launch event for the audiobook edition of Home, here is a glimpse of what happened:











★★★★★
" Written in an elegant style, this publication contains
both poems and story-like sections of prose.
It's lyrical, expressive, and poignant"
Treat yourself to a gift
★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★

Reparations
Poem by my father (translated by me)

You're asking me to put here in writing, once more,
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
To list in detail, then describe and refine
And bring two witnesses tomorrow to sign?

My father's gold watch--I could just hear the sound
Had three lids that were shining
Reflected in it I could see us, standing around
All faces aglow and rejoicing.

The watch also had a heavy gold chain
Coiled twice over, over his vein
The tips of its hands gave a hint of a spark
Shooting green glow, right into the dark

It ticked, counting years for each girl and boy
Marking seasons, holidays, morning and night
I remember Sabbath candles flickering with joy
Sparkling brightly, like starlight.

You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?

There was an old synagogue my grandpa had built
Burning scrolls, flying ash, dying spirit
Ancient Torah aflame, letters lifting, all gilt
Thou shall not kill, shall not steal, shall not covet

There was my sister. She was delicate, tender
In her eyes I remember a twinkle
Her name was Batia, my beloved little sister
She grew up--and then--it was simple:

She grew up and married, gave birth to a son
with a blue glint in his eyes, and a dimple
And blond hair, like a pure 'Aryan'--
The murderers, they threw him right into the Nile

There were aunts, there were uncles, boys and girls in our midst
The murderers decreed: they should not exist

You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?

I demand to return, reopen that door
Find parents and sister, each girl and boy
Back there in that synagogue, with that spirit of yore
Sabbath candles aflame, father's voice filled with joy.
It's not property I ask for, not mere pieces of land--
Hebrew school, friends around, all of us in one band
With hope that inspired to survive, to withstand.
Bring the murderers to trial, that is what I demand.
You will not understand; it's of no great import--
I demand that which had been cut short

HOME is now available on Amazon--and at a reduced price!
Take a listen:
✿ Audio ✿ print ✿ ebook ✿

Wow, what a lovely, spot on review for my poetry book, Home:

★★★★★ A Ballad with a Flair, September 10, 2013
By Warrior Princess (Karmoy, Norway) - See all my reviews
Amazon Verified Purchase

I was penetrated by a pouring rain
And for a moment, somehow, I felt alive again
Sensing me, the worms began to rave
I plucked a wildflower from my grave.

These four lines written by Zeev Kachel and translated by his daughter Uvi Poznansky resonated with me like no other poetry in English ever had. They seemed to have reached something deep in my soul. I was surprised and enchanted and kept reading, enjoying every line of this emotional collection and wondering what it was that kept drawing me in. Eventually, after reading through Uvi's blog, I figured out what that mysterious soul connection was: when Uvi was little, her father used to read to her the poetry of Pushkin, a beloved Russian poet and one of my favorite writers of all time, in Russian. She didn't understand the words until he translated them for her, but the rhythm, the sound, and the soul of his poetry must have reached Uvi through the linguistic barrier. Quite amazing. But let me share a few of my favorite lines from "Home."

Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
Who is this stranger
Is it still me?

These lines, written by Uvi, appeal to me because of the profound meaning behind their apparent simplicity. As life moves forward and we get busy with everyday activities, we tend not to notice the passage of time, only to stop one day and suddenly realize how much life has changed around us and how much we ourselves have changed.

Another emotion that I was drawn to is that of life-affirming defiance no matter what life's circumstances are. Just take a look at this stanza (also by Uvi):

Sing out a ballad of passion and hate
Sing it out as you drown, and ignore that date
Someone may notice, may listen out there
So quicken the pounding, sing out with a flair

My interpretation of this idea of "singing a ballad" is that music and song are some of the purest, most ancient, and most raw ways to express emotions "with a flair."

As I read further and got to the section of the book that contains poetry written by Uvi's father, Zeev Kachel (and translated by Uvi), I could see the similarities in their spirit. In the two lines below, the idea that life is not nearly as sweet and innocent as we often expect, is expressed eloquently and concisely:

Ma, why did you fool me, what was it for,
When you sang me a lullaby, not a song of war?

And more life-affirming defiance in these next lines:

In the distance, you seem to spot a shelter
But all I see is an endless universe
Come on, Troika! Snow sparkles on your lashes
Let's charge to the horizon, let us charge our course!

What I see here is the spirit of independence, the idea of finding your own way, of moving forward fearlessly with no thought of resting, stopping, hiding, or seeking refuge from adversity - strong emotions eloquently expressed. The feelings behind these poems reminded me of the poetry of Anna Akhmatova, a famous Russian modernist poet who lived through and wrote about Stalinist terror.

This poetry collection by Uvi and her father shines with the same spirit of defiance in the face of a great loss, combines lyrical poetry with a strong voice, and presents rhymes that reverberate with the rhythm of our hearts and our lives. Highly recommended.

Late Lover

A diamond short, a decade late
I come to stand outside your gate
Unlock and open, let me in
Forgive me, love; what is my sin?

I fled from you across the land
But now I ask you for your hand
A decade late, a diamond short
I can't imagine why you snort

My limbs are frail, my breath is cold
I must admit I may look old
I fall, I kneel, why—I implore
You are the woman I adore

I feel so weak, I feel so brittle
Don't touch! I may be impotent a little
You loved me once—or so I thought
Stop! Take your fingers off my throat—



I painted Late Lover from the point of view of the girl he had left behind. She and you, the observer, are one. He is yearning to come back home. A blue cape is flung around his shoulders, which allows the eye to stay with him, rather than drift off to the background, seen in the spaces between his flimsy ribs. More importantly, you can see the withered flowers he lays at your feet, and the ring being cast off your finger, straight onto his head. The words 'A diamond short, a decade late' are carved into the door frame, perhaps with your fingernails, scratching letter after letter over the long-drawn-out years of waiting for him...

Having painted him all day, the voice of Late Lover came to me at night. The next morning I wrote his poem down in a single breath, and never made any corrections, never replaced a word or adjusted the rhythm--because it came to me completely ready.

Moved by poetry?
Get the print edition of this profoundly moving poetry book: Home

In honor of International Day of Peace--September 21--here is a story of a child whose family family escapes from war:

"There he sits, pressed in between bundles and things that keep rattling around him, on top of a horse-driven wagon. Looking up at his parents he can sense something big, something fearful and unspoken casting a shadow over them; and they bend their heads together over him and his sister. He can see an endless line in front, an endless line in back—horses and wagons, wagons and horses as far as the eye can see—all advancing towards the same gray, unclear horizon, all escaping towards the same destination: Unknown.

The sun rises in front of the wagons, and sets behind them. Towns appear and disappear. Rivers pass by, then forests, brick houses, motels. In Minsk they stop. He finds the three-story hotel quite fascinating at first, especially the curved rail of the staircase, which is meant, no doubt, for sliding down and yelling at the top of your voice. Of course, landing down on your butt, he finds out, is an entirely different matter—and so is the harsh, unforgiving look cast down at him by the hotelkeeper.

They settle down for the night. In the rented room, his mommy blesses the Sabbath candles. Her hands are tightly clasped, her eyes closed. And early the next morning they mount the wagon again, and the journey goes on in the dim light, guided by nothing but an instinct to survive, farther and farther away from home. Squinting at the rising sun, Zeev finds it more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. His mind is going numb listening to the wheels as they spin and turn, spin and turn, beating incessantly against the mud.

Cold rain starts coming down at him, sheet after sheet, and streaming in the same direction is the wet mane of the horse. Its head keeps bobbing up and down, up and down in front. When will it end? Where can they go?

Many days pass by—he cannot count them any more—until, one evening, as they travel along the river, a big town comes into view, closer and closer against the smoky blue backdrop of the Ural Mountains.

This, his daddy tells him, is Saratov."

My father was born 1912, and the story above is how I imagine the story of the family, escaping their home on the eve of World War I, which started on August 1, 1914 with the German declaration of war on Russia. Always an army town, the fortress of Brisk was now flooded with Russian military personnel, and many private houses were requisitioned to accommodate them. Late in July 1915, with the installation of new hospitals in town, it became clear that the front was fast approaching Brisk De-Lita.

Rumors of evacuation were heard and the Russian army was to fortify the east bank of the Bug River; but when the German army captured Warsaw on August 4, the Fort Commandant gave the civilian population in Brisk three days to evacuate. Imagine the panic amongst the Jews, who owned most of the businesses, when they had to abandon their belongings and flee for their lives.

When the German army marched into Brisk on August 25, it was a town without people, but with a great abundance of merchandise in the stores. And on the eve of Yom Kippur, the 18th of September, they entered Slonim, a neighboring city, and pressed on into Russia. By that time, the family was already far away from the frontline.

A long, dragged out journey had begun.

My ink-on-paper below is my way of illustrating the ugliness of war. Two figures holding whips are standing over a defiant, seated figure, threatening to cause him harm. In reality, all three figures were sketched looking at the same model.




The story is included in Home:
✿ Audio ✿ print ✿ ebook ✿

New poetry series: Contemporary Writers of Poland

The newest in an outgoing series dedicated to the courageous people of Poland who fought always to defend and preserve the Polish identity and cultural heritage throughout long periods of oppression - so beautifully represented here in Polish Literature Anthologies. I had the honor of being invited to contribute several of my poems:

Contemporary Writers of Poland 2000-2014

There must be some magic dust in the air every time I visit my dear friend, Brian M. Hayden, and leave a few words on his blog. Within a day, each one of my three guest posts garnered an incredible amount of 'readers' likes. Brian tells me The Cyclical Process of Writing was the highest visited post, with over 1,100 visits in a single day. Check them out:

Home
215 likes

The Cyclical Process of Writing
199 likes

“The Descent into a Different Realm”
287 likes

Funny thing is, I wish I knew how this happens, because then I could repeat this feat with my next post... My best guess is this: here is a case of two authors combining forces, one opening the door for another, creating an inviting environment--and therefore, the friends and followers of both of them come in too, and they do it in great numbers!

Still, who knows... Your guess is as good as mine!

Basically a brilliant read

Wanda "Panda" Hartzenberg is a top rated reviewer, and the author of a new book, The Struggle of Me. She ranks #3 top readers, #10 best reviewers , #1 top reviewers on Goodreads. So I am deeply honored that she posted this review, on Amazon and Goodreads, for Home:

★★★★ Dont be misled with the pretty part. It is sad at times., October 16, 2013
By Wanda "Wandah Panda" (Pretoria, South Africa) - See all my reviews
Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Home (Kindle Edition)
I am not good with poetry. I know none of the buzz words. Nothing about rhyme or rhythm, nothing about anything other than the basic.

So this is what I am here to tell you. This is basically a brilliant read.

It is a journey of a man, a woman, a father, a daughter.
A family.

I cant tell you anything apart from the fact that the way in which this was written was pretty.
And yes, I mean pretty. It was a turn of phrase. A choice not usual that made the words sound pretty as I read them to myself.

The stories, the prose, the poetry. All of it has a story, a voice. All of it or some of it, or one if will hit HOME.

WaAr

I thought reading poetry wouldn't be my cup of tea. Wow, was I wrong

John A. Miller is the author of Author of Gladstone, You’ll be Sorry! and Friends and Strangers. He is also a truck driver, which makes his point of view a unique one. I am thrilled that he posted this review, having listened to the audio edition of Home:

★★★★★ Deep thoughts, November 1, 2013
By John A. miller (tennessee,usa) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Home (Kindle Edition)
Being the average American male, I am into action adventure along with a good shoot out and car chase scene. I thought reading poetry wouldn't be my cup of tea. Wow, was I wrong. I was gifted the audio version of "Home" from a friend and I'm glad I established it. I down loaded on my computer then made a CD so I could listen to it as I drive. I own an 18 wheeler and like to listen to diverse things. I left Dallas this am and as I was driving across Texas I began to listen to "Home." At first I didn't know what to anticipate, was there going to be a car chase? No, Instead I had the pleasure of listening to the deep thoughts of Uvi Poznansky. The words she expressed got me thinking about my own life and made me feel I could get to know her as I listened. I will say there were two prose that are my favorites. "Child hood years" and "A child in a wagon." Don't ask me why because I have no idea, except I was moved by them. It could of ben the words and thought's she conveyed or it reminded me of something from my own childhood. Maybe reading "Home "would be a different experience than the audio version I had the pleasure of enjoying? If you're a reader and want to reflect back in you're on way of childhood or just read about her life and thoughts. Then I highly recommend "Home." Thank you Uvi for sharing your thoughts and emotions in this book so we all can enjoy.

Just discovered a new review by a reader called Alexandra on Goodreads, for Home! But first, let me give you her delightful comments as she recorded them as she began reading:

14.0% "This will be I believe my first poetry book to read! I am very excited, very good so far!"

26.0% "So different from what I am used to reading but I am loving it! Rewind has to be my favorite so far! Very unique!!"


And now the review (can be read here):

I really really enjoyed this book! I think a few of the poems or stories went a lil over my head (I am not the deepest thinker lol) but I have to say I absolutely fell in love with the short story A Heartbeat, Reversed! I even read it twice! Such beautiful descriptions!
I love the fact that Uvi Poznansky took her father's poems and translated them from Hebrew to English to share with the world. What a beautiful tribute to her father! My favorite poem from Mr Kachel was The Wolf, it just really grabbed me and I read it over and over. I just wish I knew Hebrew because I think that would just sound beautiful!
I am very much looking forward to reading Uvi's other books and am so glad I have them right here on my kindle waiting for me!

Win!!!

Here's your chance to win! A select group of authors has joined forces with me, to bring you amazing stories, narrated by great voice actors. Take a listen to voice clips from the audiobooks, and join for a chance to win one of them!

Join the Raffle Extravaganza

Wonder who won my audiobooks in the event last night? the winners are:

Les Bush Poet: http://tinyurl.com/favorite-son-audio
Terri Pletcher: http://tinyurl.com/twisted-fantasy-audio
Pamela Sims: http://tinyurl.com/home-poetry-audio
Dennis W. Headrick: http://tinyurl.com/apart-from-love-audio

Giving thanks...

I'm blessed for the pleasure, blessed for the agony
Blessed for the fear, the pain of it all
In which I was steeped, in this reality
And granted the chance to endure or to fall

Listen to this poem in its entirety, here.

Yay! A first review for Home (the audiobook edition):

"Elegant and Elegiac"
If you could sum up Home in three words, what would they be?
Elegant and Elegiac

What other book might you compare Home to and why?
No comparison.

Have you listened to any of Kathy Bell Denton’s other performances before? How does this one compare?
I've not heard Kathy Bell Denton's other performances.

If you were to make a film of this book, what would the tag line be?
Elegant and Elegiac

Any additional comments?

In a day and age when much of the music in poetry has died, you can now hear the voices of father and daughter singing their harmonious duet in Home. Uvi Poznansky takes you with her through that tunnel of memory into her father’s lost world, into his river of poetic dreams, a narrative that flows with the voice of longing, lament, and loneliness, on to the day his immortal soul stands by his grave in “I Plucked a Wildflower.” Transcending all past yearning, Zeev Kachel sings no funeral dirge for himself, but a magical song of release



Get ★★★★★ HOME:
♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible
♥ Print ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Home-print
♥ Ebook ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Home-ebook

Winter comes with frosty nights,
Winter comes with snowball fights
Time to find a quiet place
Hold my books in your embrace

It's warm now, take off your glove
Stay Home and read Apart From Love
Get it for you and for your friend
A holiday gift, to give, to send

My books are here, no need to wait,
Night will come, it will be great.



My oil painting, titled Paperband



A Favorite Son
★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★

Home
★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★

Apart From Love
★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★

Twisted
★ Audiobook ★ Ebook ★ Print ★

I remember: a gentler sound
The forest rustling in the rain
Leaves were swirling all around
I heard soft footsteps up the lane

To read more, and see my animation, click the link
Now I Am Paper

My new book Rise to Power explores the life of one of the most admired figures in history and the most complex figure in the bible: David. This is his story as you have never heard it before: from the king himself, telling the unofficial version, the one he never allowed his court scribes to recount. In his mind, history is written to praise the victorious—but at the last stretch of his illustrious life, he feels an irresistible urge to tell the truth. In the first volume of the series, David gives you a fascinating account of his early years, culminating with a tribal coronation. Rooted in ancient lore, his is a surprisingly modern memoir.

To celebrate the launch of my book, I am announcing a writing contest. Come join in!

WRITING CONTEST

On a different note:

Have you noticed the new slideshow feature on my blog? At the top right corner?

If you are reading any one of my books--Rise to Power, Apart From Love, A Favorite Son, Home or Twisted (in ebook, print, or audio editions)--I will gladly feature your image, too!

Here's how: YOUR IMAGE HERE

✿(•̃̃‿•̃̃ ♡ ◦°˚ Looking for a gift for the special child in your life?
Here are my two children’s books, written in rhyme, featuring colorful illustrations based on my art! Check them out:

♥ Now I Am Paper ♥ http://bookshow.me/1494919427
♥ Jess and Wiggle ♥ http://bookshow.me/1494920964

I have just gone off the air after a lovely chat with co-hosts Vanney-Vanessa Thompson and author LJ Jamela Thomas.

Check it out: a lovely chat on radio

De Ann Townes Jr. "Native American Girl" as she is known in the world of Poetry is the author of Peer Inside My Soul and See me, and A King Among Prince. Her Poetry has been widely anthologized by The League of American Poets, 2005 Expressions II red book edition. I am thrilled to find her lovely review of my poetry book, Home:

★★★★★ Brushes the soul with Brilliance….., January 24, 2014
By De Ann Townes Jr. "Native American Indian who... - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)
Amazon Verified Purchase

I was dazed with the beautiful enormity emotions as I read through the pages of this eloquent read. The range in which this read has stretched my heart and soul through an abundant of emotions that have enraptured my mind. I found myself laughing with joy for the wonder of greatness felt. Angry when taken through the edges of selfish irony, and pausing as I try to ascertain the meaning of a secret thought or look upon the face of the individual expressed within a poem or short story being penned. My tears then flowed when I found myself caught up in the agony of the moments within a touching story spoken of through the pages titled “A Heartbeat Reversed”.

I have read work from this author once or twice before, and each time I’m taken in with amazement and my intellect and emotions are further stretched, enlightened and richly nourished. Author Uvi Poznansky has an amazing and brilliant way of taking you within a world through the pages of her novels that touches heritage, poetic prose, artistic creativity and talented writing.
Once again I am in awe as I am also equally saddened to have completed another truly touching read by this author. Only because reading for the first time gives you a special something that can never be a first again, but I have definitely been embraced and overwhelmed to the point that I will be picking it up again. Hoping to capture the feelings I felt once more…… Absolutely 5 Stars!!! (WaAr) (Read 2 de Enero/January 2014.)

Read and Reviewed by: De Ann “Native” Townes Jr. Author of “Peer Inside My Soul and See Me” and “A King Among Prince”

Treat yourself to a Valentine's Day gift!
Five fabulous books on sale, today only:

APART FROM LOVE ♥ http://BookShow.me/B006WPITP0
RISE TO POWER ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00H6PMZ0U
A FAVORITE SON ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00AUZ3LGU
TWISTED ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00D7Q3IY4
HOME ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y



Oh what is there to say
Come Valentine's day?

You bring a dozen blood-red roses
She thinks, Is this how he proposes?

With a bottle of wine
You whisper, Be mine

You offer a big chocolate heart
She thinks, Well, that's a start

She loosens your tie
And gives a deep sigh

The fire is burning, the music is on
But all you can see on her face is a yawn

Then from your pocket you pull out the ring
She shakes her head, No, I want one more thing

What does she want, come Valentine's day?
In cupid's name, what should I say?

She smiles, Bring me Home, Apart From Love
Then I'll be yours, like a hand and a glove

And you say, Give me A Favorite Son
Now let's blow off the candles, one by one

The flame goes out, all Twisted in smoke
Time to come in and take off your cloak

What more is there to say
Come Valentine's day?

Somewhere at night a string sings out
All's dark, silent, filled with doubt
I'm alone, and you?
Out there, in the cold, a string sings out

To read the poem, and to listen to the beautiful narration by Kathy Bell Denton, click here:
Forgive me, ma

Here is my conversation at the wonderful Arts and Media radio show Anything Goes, with the great host: Bennet Pomeranz. He asked great questions, some of which readers and listeners had asked him about my work. I was elated to hear that he read my books, and to hear his impressions about them.

Take a listen:
Anything goes! A lovely chat with Bennet

Clarissa Simmens says, "I am so grateful that my poetry is able to be published and stored in the modern version of what author Carlos R. Zafon has called The Cemetery of Forgotten Books." She is the author of seveal books, and I am thrilled that this is what she said about my poetry book,

Overall ★★★★★
Performance ★★★★★
Story ★★★★★

"Soul-Touching"
Would you recommend this audiobook to a friend? If so, why?
I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys poetry, family relationships and the universal emotions echoing in my heart, this luminous combination of autobiography and dialog between a man who has died and his surviving daughter?

Who was your favorite character and why?
Both the strengths and fraility of the mother and the father were portrayed excellently.

Have you listened to any of Kathy Bell Denton’s other performances before? How does this one compare?
I have not heard any of her other performances, but I was mesmerized by her voice and the power of the performance.

Was there a moment in the book that particularly moved you?
The yearning many of us share by using the magical metaphor of “life rewinded,” reflecting the theme in her father’s poetry.

Any additional comments?
The combination of both the powerful poetry and performance has made this a book worth listening to many times.

Get ★★★★★ HOME
♥ Audio ♥ http://www.audible.com/pd/Drama-Poetr...
♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y
♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993231

A wonderfully perceptive review for my poetry book, Home:
★★★★★ Read "Home" and be the better for it., August 10, 2014
By Amazon Customer "lokhos" (USA) - See all my reviews
Verified Purchase

Uvi Poznansky had a father, like most of us; a family, as most of us do for a time. But this father was a gifted writer, as his daughter is gifted. This book is partly written by Uvi's father, Zeev Kachel, and partly by her own deep heart. This is no book for the faint of heart, nor a book to read casually. This book is full of love and pathos and grief. So take a deep gulp of the human condition, and read Home -- a book, a compilation, a struggle of the self.
This book is about emotion and the strength that sadness can evoke in the best of us. Uvi understands at a gut level the purpose of art and here she writes a frame around her father's journey, which has inspired her own.
Poznansky gives us a glimpse of lives most different, of her father's journey, of her own. If you've disdained the search for a higher octave of writing on Kindle, recant: "Home" proves you wrong. In this book, the author shows us the world through an unblinking eye. And what we see, we may not like: humanity torn open, a father lost, life among the ruins of a single soul.
Be warned: this book is dark; it must be to take us where it wants to go, to guide us through a storm of feeling. Zeev Kachel's numerous poems in "Home" share his loneliness, his talent -- and hers as she writes, evoking a spirit from beyond life's end.
I have well reviewed Uvi Poznansky before, but this book is special, even for a writer as gifted as she. Of her father, I knew nothing. Now I know more. And I am certain that talent is inheritable: we must thank the father for the daughter, and the daughter for writing a book this brave. The poems and stories here take us through war and displacement and despair, and back again. Its visions (not so much about horror directly, but about what horrors and inhumanity do to us all, soul by soul) have a message for us, about what humanity can be, for better and for worse. Why do we care? Because, if we're not vigilant, these things will happen again to more fathers, to more daughters. And again. And it is the single voices which cry out in misery (those who have lost their faith as well as those who regain it), whose words we need to hear. This book takes us on a personal journey, not a political one, into the heart of our kind.
The triumph of "Home" is that it was ever written at all.
Read "Home" and be the better for it.

Get ★★★★★ HOME
♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y
♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993231
♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible

Just because... Here is a little poem:

She:
I dabbed a drop of perfume right under my ear
As soon as I laid eyes on you, here
You dance with such rhythm, such elegant flair
I adore your bald spot and your dwindling hair

He:
I think of myself as a dashing young man
No surprise you came over when the music began
You smell so good, I feel such a bliss
Leaning over to you, can I hope for a kiss?

She:
I wore my best dress, with the arms left bare,
Painted my lips, put a rose in my hair
I love dancing with such a tall gentleman
My heart is yours, hold me tight if you can

He:
Let me lift you up high into the air
Come fly with me, if only you dare
To hang on my arm and trust every step
Let us tango together, now your weight I must shlep


I love sculpting dancing figures, because not only is the dance dynamic--
but it expresses the relationship between the dancers.
I made this piece of clay, burnt it in the kiln and painted it.

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?

(included in Home)

Thomas Baker is an author of romance, historical fiction, autobiographical, sports history/biography, and English Language Teaching. He is also a top Amazon reviewer, who ranks top 1000. I am thrilled to find his review of my book, Home:

★★★★★ "Home" is Exquisite, Extraordinary, Unique, & Superb, August 30, 2014
By Thomas Baker "Thomas is the Past-President of TESOL Chile (2010-2011). He is the Head of the English Department at Colegio Internacional SEK in Santiago."
Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Home (Kindle Edition)
This is an extraordinary book. I had read other books from Uvi Poznansky before so I knew I was in for an enjoyable read. What makes this book extraordinary is the fact that it represents the efforts of Uvi to render a fitting tribute to her father, Zeev Kachel. It is a collection of poems and prose, half written by her, and half by her father. This combination is unique, and made even more so by its posthumous nature.

This brings to mind Natalie Cole singing a duet with her late father, Nat King Cole. My favorite is listening to both of them singing, "Unforgettable". Here's how she describes it: ""I think it's always a little bit bittersweet when I do it," Cole said of recording duets with her late father, who passed at age 45 from lung cancer, "but I do love to do it because I feel so connected to him. ... It's still emotional, but it still feels good, so you always still want to hold on to that feeling." (Source: ET interview)

Here's how Uvi describes "Home": "Home. A simple word; a loaded one. You can say it in a whisper; you can say it in a cry. Expressed in the voices of father and daughter you can hear a visceral longing for an ideal place, a place never to be found again." (end of quote)

As a teacher, the poem written by Zeev Kachel that caught my attention the most is called, "My Teachers". It is profoundly insightful, personifying "chill", "time" and "dream", essentially elevating these three concepts to the status of teacher. Coming to the poem, I am expecting the story of "real" teachers who impacted his life in a memorable way, and instead, I am greeted with a metaphorical trinity who are uniquely worthy of the status accorded them by the poet. For me, this is a very powerful, evocative poem that I am able to relate to.

In sum, allow me only one word: extraordinary. I have seen no other book like this. It is superb, exquisite, a literary duo that rivals the musical duo of Natalie and Nat King Cole in every way. Highly recommended.

Get ★★★★★ HOME
♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y
♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993231
♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible

Home

"Deep, thought-proving, achingly beautiful story"
Overall ★★★★★
Performance ★★★★★
Story ★★★★★
Would you listen to Home again? Why?
I'll want to listen to Home many times because not only is Home is filled with wisdom and pathos, but it is beautifully written and narrated. Any son or daughter will want to listen to Home: it's about relationships and lessons as old as time.

What was one of the most memorable moments of Home?
The moment when the daughter finds the silent movie projector in a cabinet, dusty and nearly forgotten. She knows this find will change her life forever, and so do we.

Have you listened to any of Kathy Bell Denton’s other performances before? How does this one compare?
This is the first of Denton's narrations I have heard, and it impressed me enough that I will look for others.

Did you have an extreme reaction to this book? Did it make you laugh or cry?
This book shakes the soul. Yes, there is laughter, but the giddy laughter of coming to terms with tragedy, with life, with death.

Any additional comments?
Home is a book that opens the soul. Reading it is mesmerizing. The story it tells is a story everyone should hear. I listened in one sitting the first time, and am looking forward to sharing it with my husband. For anyone who has lost a parent, or knows that loss comes soon, this book is a must. I recommend both this edition and the Kindle for those whose souls are aching, and those coming to terms with what life and death really mean.

Get ★★★★★ HOME
♥ Audio ♥ http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible
♥ Ebook ♥ http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y
♥ Print ♥ http://bookShow.me/0984993231

"And then she left him.
He looks at the line. It is written in blue ink, pressed into the sheet of paper—vigorously here, faintly there—with his usual stroke, a stroke that drives through the spikes and valleys in the shapes of the letters at a steady slant. The line reaches the margin, where it is punctuated, unexpectedly, by a red stain..."

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The line reaches the margin, where it is punctuated by a red stain

Somewhere at night a string sings out
All's dark, silent, filled with doubt
I'm alone, and you?
Out there, in the cold, a string sings out

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After You're Gone

We were born in darkness, crying a fit
Like grains of sand, countless stars came up, lit,
We wanted to turn back to the warm womb
Instead we were wrapped by chill and by gloom

Born in darkness, we labored so hard
To find our way in this universe
We were greeted by its hug, the cruelty of its curse
Its predators' jaws... We were forced to traverse.

Ma, why did you fool me, what was it for,
When you sang me a lullaby, not a song of war?
Oh why did you hide the ugly truth from me
We were born in darkness, our life--not to be?
Written by My father,
Translated from Hebrew by me

Get ★★★★★ HOME
Ebook http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y
Print http://bookShow.me/0984993231
Audio http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible
‪#‎AudioBooks‬ ‪#‎poetry‬

Friday night we have a date
Come right here to celebrate
This is when and where and what
You may win prizes! Don’t miss out:

Join the king and me in the Royal gardens

I'm blessed for the pleasure, blessed for the agony
Blessed for the fear, the pain of it all
In which I was steeped, in this reality
And granted the chance to endure or to fall--

To read more, and listen to the lovely narration from HOME, click here:
Thanksgiving: I'm Blessed for the pleasure, blessed for the agony

I live here with no joy, no regret
And scribble little rhymes just for me
I live... No longer preach at the gate,
Nor squash any ants carelessly.
In their hiding place they seem to await
And observe me, in all probability--

Take a listen to one of my fathers' profoundly great poems:
I live here on paint and on toxoid

The lamp swings like a pendulum
Pictures sway on their nails
Then slip down the walls, leaving scratched trails
Amidst the quake, the grief, the confusion and scare
Slowly ascending is my father's armchair--

To read more, and listen to the beautiful narration, click here:
He's ascending into the arms of his muse, his mother

When my father passed away, I went back home for the traditional Shiva-a, the seven days period of mourning. Perhaps the grief did something to change the way I viewed things, or else it was sitting in that space--my childhood home--in a spot I rarely sat before--

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Seeing my home through a fish eye

At this moment, a man is lying in his armchair, propped up on a large pillow. He has lived, or rather, has confined himself within these walls for decades, for a reason unknown. In this stagnant place all sounds are muffled, all images erased – but for one thing: his youth. There is a vibrant longing in him for the adventures of his early days--

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Was it not just yesterday when he left his home in Poland, never to see his parents again?

I'm dying to sleep, but oh
She's eager to get going
All because of a little window
And tempers that are blowing

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She longs for chocolate and I--for chocolate

Now I will try on a little red dress
Lick chocolate-dipped strawberries, and let you caress
All of me... Oh let me kiss you, my sweet valentine
With lips that are glistening with rosy red wine—

To read more click here
Now I will try on a little red dress

Double, double misfortune, trouble 
Burning coal and blackening rubble
Let the blood in my caldron boil
Feed the flames... Oh, such a toil!—

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Let the blood in my caldron boil

Every day I tear a leaf
From my calendar, blanched by the sun
Here's spring... It is so brief
Leaves now falling, one by one...

Once more it's spring, the fragrance's sweet
And blossom spreads again, again
With graying hair, there in the street
I sit: a lonely, crestfallen man

Do you remember: a student’s room
With a single narrow iron bed
That eve, of golden summer bloom
We fried potatoes, words unsaid

The plates we set down on the floor
And filled our glass with cheap, warm wine
Between our kisses, love we swore...
For that lost moment, how I pine!

A star came on, peeking in
Out of the depth of a strange, dark night
The entire world was here within
A serenade of love, delight

(Poem by my father, included in my book, Home)

Get ★★★★★ HOME #free:
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A sad story about a happy man, a man who
Loved poems, women, and a calm core
A sad story that crashed against the cliff, crashed onto 
A cold, indifferent shore—

To read more click here:
Without compass

I'm so elated to discover a wonderful review, written by a Top 500 Amazon Reviewer, for my poetry book, Home:

★★★★★ ~~Intense/Personal/Emotional/Incredible~~
By Chief, USN Ret...VT Town TOP 500 REVIEWERo

This is an incredible book of poems and prose written by Ms. Poznansky and her father, Zeek Kachel. Uvi found the latest writings of her father when she went 'home' for Shiva - a and never knew that they existed. She spent one year carefully translating them from Hebrew into English ensuring the translation was as correct as possible.

It is extremely rare that a book creates such an emotional read as this one did for me. I had to stop several times to completely digest the words written on the pages. Due to the personal nature of both Uvi's and her Father's poems, I felt like I was trespassing into their private worlds. Yes, I was invited into their worlds but the prose and the poetry contained therein are both deep and meaningful. I could feel the pain of the Father when lamenting about his wife's absence. I could feel the pain of Uvi when lamenting about being lonely in 'Even One Mark'. And, I am still pondering 'Blade' which was written in 2004. These are raw emotions that are somehow eloquently expressed with grace.

The entire gamut of human emotions is covered in this book - heartbreak, loneliness, questions of 'why', death and living, life and loving and even war and the instinct to survive. 'Somehow it feels lighter in the dark' is one quote that sums the book up well.

Most highly recommended.

Get ★★★★★ HOME:
#kindle http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y
#nook http://tinyurl.com/nook-home
#iTunes http://tinyurl.com/appl-home
#Smashwords http://tinyurl.com/smsh-home
#Kobo http://tinyurl.com/kobo-home
#print http://bookShow.me/0984993231
#Audiobook http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible

Home

A short and sweet review for my poetry book, Home:

★★★★★ Amazing read!!
By Mrs. Violetteon, Verified Purchase
I got goosebumps throughout this book. The manner in which the words are written are the most bone chillingly, expressive I've ever read. Very talented writer, great work. Looking forward to reading more from the author.

Get ★★★★★ HOME:
#kindle http://bookShow.me/B00960TE3Y
#nook http://tinyurl.com/nook-home
#iTunes http://tinyurl.com/appl-home
#Smashwords http://tinyurl.com/smsh-home
#Kobo http://tinyurl.com/kobo-home
#print http://bookShow.me/0984993231
#Audiobook http://tinyurl.com/Home-audible

Every day I tear a leaf
From my calendar, blanched by the sun
Here's spring... It is so brief
Leaves now falling, one by one...

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Every day I tear a leaf