White Swan

 

Poem written by my father, Zeev Kachel

Lay your head here. Withering around us

Is the garden, with golden reveries all.

In its feverish languishing, like in life’s remorse

A final flame has been ignited by the fall.

Leaves are ֿdropping out… The wind devours them

For distant turns in the mist of time.

Thunder roars. Abandoned, orphaned in this realm

Is the path we never finished to the sublime. 

Oh, don’t you cry, white swan on the horizon —

A golden dream that vanished into space.

More springs will come to quicken pulse, to widen

A turbulent core in the deepest place.

If I pass on, somewhere there's a poem I wrote

For you. It’ll never wither, never be defiled. 

In it you’re forever young, a dream I loved the most

Queen of queens of the garden, ruling over the Nile.

[1948]

This poem, dedicated to my mother, was written around the time they married. It was also the year my father became a free man after months of being held as a prisoner of war in Jordan, in the hands of the Arab Legion. 

His love to a woman twenty years younger than him as well as the dangers he faced in captivity mark the first time he faced his own mortality, the first time he envisioned what would be left behind once he's gone.

Can We Still Love

Poetry

Paperback ★ Hardcover 

Audiobook

In an era that is amazement and wonder on one hand, and destruction and hate on the other, and facing the threat of an even more horrific holocaust in our future, two poets present a piercing question: can we still love? And love means one another, human to human.

This book is the 'I believe' statement of the poet, author and artist Zeev Kachel, a man whose most closely-held values and aspirations have been put to the test in the course of WWI and WWII. It is also the 'I believe' statement of his daughter, USA Today bestselling author, poet and artist Uvi Poznansky, who compiled her own work alongside his, and translated his poems from Hebrew so they can become an inspiring force to you.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“I was immediately introduced to a collection of poems that not only touched me, they sprung me directly into what it is like to be at war…”

Review (Rise to Power): The best of historical fiction

 This review for the paperback edition of my historical fiction novel Rise to Power makes me happy not only because the reader enjoyed the book but also because she reviewed it in Germany -- which tells me the far reach of my audience! My gratitude to you.

ZS

5 out of 5 stars

The best of historical fiction

Reviewed in Germany on 13 February 2015

Format: Paperback

Wonderfully epic, this novel swept me into those long forgotten times of biblical struggles and search. The story of King David told by the King himself, and in such delightfully light, conversational style, in the first person. It took me by surprise. Somehow I did not expect to hear the words of the famous king himself. I'm used to others describing him.
From the first page, this story drew me in and didn't let me go. Epic in its proportions, but so delightfully friendly in style, so easy to read, it made me connect with its characters right away, David himself, Michal, Saul and Yoav, and so many others. The best of historical fiction, in my opinion.
Who was this David? The slayer of Goliath? A gifted court entertainer? A cunning fugitive? A traitor to his people or a savior? Or maybe a ruthless power-grabber? Told in his own words, his story made much more sense, showed the man behind the stone statue and the biblical interpretations.
A wonderfully refreshing read!

I use that anger, that heat in me, to focus on the task at hand. I go on slipping down, thanking my lucky stars for having been bandaged, which would cushion my fall.

 As riveting as this exchange may be, I would rather stop hearing it, stop wondering what Vlad expects to get out of my boyfriend in exchange for my life. Don’t waste time listening to any of that, I tell myself. Just, do something. Anything. Escape. 

Really, in my present condition? 

Really. The moment is now. So don’t argue, don’t lose time on debating with yourself.

I grit my teeth, straining every muscle in me in an enormous effort to stir. After what seems like an eternity, I think I can move my thumb, because there it is, tingling. Yes, yes! I can bend it! It takes every bit of will power to straighten it back. Yes, I can do that, too! 

If I had a pistol, perhaps I could attempt to press the trigger—but short of that, bending and straightening this finger or that is of no real use. I need to do something else. Anything.

Right now, my arms feel as heavy as bricks, but according to Dr. Patel I did flail them while under the influence of drugs. Oh, where’s that morphine when I really need it? 

I’ve expected to go through weeks—perhaps even months—of physical rehabilitation, to recover control of my body. But I can no longer afford to wait for such a luxury. 

So I ask myself, can I topple the wheelchair? Am I strong enough to do it? Perhaps, once it’s down, I can crawl out of it across the asphalt, then roll my way under the bottom of one of the parked cars, and under the next one, and the one after that. 

Can I slink my way to safety?

On second thought, this plan seems overly complicated, and dangerous, too. Why? Because toppling the wheelchair would rattle the entire parking lot, which means that the moment I hit dirt, I would be caught. 

So instead, I decide to do what comes naturally. I slump. Then I slump some more. By now, my butt is nearing the edge of the wheelchair. It’s a plan, isn’t it?

Soon I’ll flop to the ground. 

Any moment now. 

Meanwhile, the tone of the conversation between the two men has changed. It’s warmer now, which infuriates me. I use that anger, that heat in me, to focus on the task at hand. I go on slipping down, thanking my lucky stars for having been bandaged, which would cushion my fall. 

And I think, if Vlad notices what I’m trying to do, I’m going to kick him. That wouldn’t help, of course, because he’s so much stronger than me, and because he has that weapon, but at least it’ll sweeten my moment of departure. I’d like to go out with a bang.

Coma Confidential

Paperback ★ Hardcover

Audiobook

Ash finds herself in the ER diagnosed with coma. She has no memory of what has happened to her, but what she can do--despite what everyone around her might think--is listen to the conversations of her visitors. Will she survive the power outage in the hospital and then, being kidnapped out of it? 

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"This suspenseful story spins into a wild race for survival for Ash, filled with terror, courage, and a journey that will have you cheering her on."

I can’t determine with certainty who he is, but tell myself to be patient. Well, what other choice do I have?

 Despite a growing suspicion, I can’t determine with certainty who he is, but tell myself to be patient. Well, what other choice do I have?

After all, this I know: Medical examiners can get fired if they release the wrong decedent. To prevent this, they place not only a toe tag or an ankle band on the corpse, but also a tag on its body bag. The names on these tags must match each other when the body is conveyed to the funeral home. So, once this man extricates himself from here—clearly, that’s what he intends to do—I can examine the tag left behind on his body bag.

Well, no. Too late for that. The man has just loosened his tags—from both his body bag and his big toe—and is scratching his head, perhaps figuring out how to use them to his advantage, how to cause the most mischief. His footfalls are coming closer. 

Thud, thud, thud, he swaggers across the floor, stepping over this body bag and that, until—oh no!—stumbling over mine. He lands on top of me, hard. I clump my jaws together so as not to utter a cry. Then, regaining my presence of mind, I give myself a pat on the shoulder. 

Mentally.

He spits something out loud. Sounds like a juicy Russian curse. 

I don't even comprehend the language, but what else can it be but shit?

Just the word I was looking for. 

The man rolls over to the floor, dusts off his knees, and unzips the body bag lying just next to mine. Inside is a wrinkled human carcass with black toes. Speaking about toes, I’m so glad—did I say this already?—that the software that supports this virtual simulation has not been upgraded to a version that includes smell.

Bending over the carcass, the Russian replaces both of its tags—the one on its toe as well as the one on its bag—with his.

Then, he straightens and stretches over to the air conditioning control panel mounted on the insulated panel. To my astonishment, he turns it off. This guy doesn’t like frigid temperatures. And why should he? He’s not in Russia anymore. 

In Los Angeles county, the season makes a big difference in the speed of putrefaction. During the summer, a corpse starts bloating within two days. It is facially identifiable for only one. So when the wrinkled carcass is prepared for burial, the only evidence of its identity will be these tags. The wrong ones, now dangling from its body bag in plain view. 

I know the name printed on them all too well. 

Vlad Komarov. Age 37.

Overdue

 Paperback ★ Hardcover

Audiobook

Her bullet grazed his head, but the leader of a Russian crime organization is still breathing. One way for Vlad to avoid paying the price for his crimes is to play dead; another is to play dying. For Ash, this is not a game. She must learn his secrets. Only one problem: because of the raging pandemic, she must put her plan on hold.

Vlad slips away from the hospital in a body bag, then develops a brazen fraud scheme that will bilk health insurance companies out of millions of dollars. If not caught in time, he will drive victims to suicide, rob Ash of her identity, and slit her throat.

Will Ash manage to stay one step ahead of him and at the same time, protect her loved ones from contagion?

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"This novel has it all! Mystery combined with murder, mayhem and so much more....including the Russian mob...Wow...doesn't get any better than that for me as a reader. Toss in the Virtual Reality scenes and this author has a home run with this novel..."

~Serenity

Review (The David Chronicles Trilogy): Trilogy to be treasured and listened to repeatedly

 

LISTENER

Apple Girl

• The David Chronicles
• Trilogy
• By: Uvi Poznansky
• Narrated by: Virtual Voice

 

Trilogy to be treasured and listened to repeatedly 

Overall  

    

Performance  

    

Story  

    

Reviewed: 05-17-25

Rarely do I finish listening to an Audible and have the urge to start back at the beginning and hear it again. Before experiencing Uvi Poznansky’s The David Chronicles, I had basic knowledge of David, the Old Testament shepherd turned king, his many wives and concubines, his obsession with Bathsheba, and his defeat of Goliath. This trilogy expanded my generalities into an intimate connection with David’s heart and mind.

I am in awe at how Pozanansky’s first person narrative transforms the distant legend into a flesh and blood man.

During my first listen, I raced from moment to moment taking in one amazing insight after another. Now, I will return to the Audible and listen in sections, allowing time to reflect about how David’s choices are still relevant today. The David Chronicles will make the perfect, long-lasting gift for several of my friends.

Why am I compelled to listen again? I could bullet hundreds of fascinating revelations. Here are a few:

· As if David’s mind is under a microscope, he discloses rich details such as his first night with his bride, Michal, paid for by giving her father one hundred Philistine foreskins.
· To make Bathsheba his own, David contrives to have her husband killed.
· David nonchalantly states his reflections about having no objections to slave labor.
· When David’s son, Amnon, rapes his own sister, David faces the horrible responsibility of dealing with his son’s sin and his daughter’s victimization.
· In his final years, David agonizes over his regrets and unresolved dilemmas such as how to forgive his son Absolom for murdering his other son, Amnon.
· David’s longing to enjoy his lyre-playing and psalm-composing is ever present in spite of the political demands on his life.
· His longings, blunders, triumphs and frailties constantly echo those of our leaders of today.