Saturday, March 16, 2024

But the book don’t say nothing about what I’m really worried about, which is: how to become a ma—and at the same time, how to be totally different from my ma.

 For a while I leaf through this book, which Lenny’s bought me. I bet he’s real excited. He so looks forward to becoming a father, the second time around. I can just see him in my head, like, holding the baby’s hand, guiding him already in his first steps. Then, letting go, he’s gonna take a step or two back, and hold his breath, waiting there for the little one to walk into his open arms. 

Lenny’s gonna buy him a brand new tricycle, and teach him how to set his little feet on top of them pedals, and push, push harder, even harder—yeah! Just so! And again: Go on, push, until—oh boy! With great joy, he’s gonna clap his hands, because here—for the first time—you could detect a move, a slight move ahead. 

And then, a few years down the road, he’s gonna surprise our child with a large, shining bicycle, and adjust the training wheels as time goes by, until they wasn’t needed no more; at which point, Lenny would remove them, and hold them in his hands, like, to weigh them for a moment, and try to wipe the rust, and wish that time would like, slow down, just a little, because it’s hard, so hard for the old heart to let go. 

Yes, Lenny needs a son: someone to need him, trust him, and make him trust himself again.  

I turn the page over, only to find some of them words much too long—but I read them anyway and like, I enunciate them, as slowly and as clearly as I can, ‘cause it’s gonna make him proud of me, and make me worthy of him. 

The book says that just four weeks after conception, basic facial features will begin to appear, including passageways, I repeat, passageways that will make up the inner ear, and arches that will contribute, contribute, I say aloud, to the jaw. And it says that the baby may now be a quarter of an inch long, which sounds like they’re talking about some lizard, or maybe a fish. 

But the book don’t say nothing about what I’m really worried about, which is: how to become a ma—and at the same time, how to be totally different from my ma.  

Me, I often wonder about that, ‘cause it’s kinda hard to know the right thing to do, even with the best of intentions, when all you have before you is nothing, nothing but a life cursed by violence, and by misery, and by a long list of mistakes. 

My Own Voice

Paperback  Hardcover 


Falling in love with Lenny should have been the end to all of Anita's troubles. 

For her, it's only the beginning, when family secrets start unravelling. His ex-wife, Natasha, is succumbing to a mysterious disease. How can Anita compete with her shadow? How can she find a voice of her own?

And when his estranged son, Ben, comes back and lives in the same small apartment, can she keep the balance between the two men, whose desire for her is marred by guilt and blame?

"This story, like most great dramas, isn't always easy read, but you'll find yourself unable to leave it alone and these characters will stay with you long after you've finished it."

- Aurora Dawn, VINE VOICE

Thursday, March 14, 2024

And over that pulsing, over the gusts of wind, there was that sound again, only louder this time.

 What was that, behind the rustle—farther out—somewhere out there in the darkness? There it was again, a sound so subtle he had to guess at it. Was it a sigh? A muffled cry?

Compelled to find out what it was, he hurried down past the white sands, toward the waterline. The waves clashed ashore, their crests laced with foam. And over that pulsing, over the gusts of wind, there was that sound again, only louder this time. It sent a shiver down his spine.

His shoes were soaked. Michael tossed them away, thinking he would retrieve them in a few minutes. 

Moving forward over the pebbles and into the shallow water, he had to grip the side of the rock, grip it tightly. Waves were coming at him, pushing and pulling away. And then, despite the salty sting in his eyes, he saw something that made him take a step back. 

A jagged rock formation emerged from the surface just ahead of him. At its top was one smooth curve. A hip. 

Dragged in by a wave, he found himself within an arm’s reach from her. She lay there flat on her back, legs slightly separated. The head was bobbing in the water, half submerged. Greenish seaweed streamed down the dress, swerved into her cleavage, and washed down into her braid. At the tip of it, a brilliant drop of blood was beginning to form.

At first, Michael assumed that she had slipped, by some accident, and got dashed into the rocks. He reached forward, feeling for her carotid, but instead of a pulse, what he found was an open flesh. Something oozed out of it, which felt sticky on his fingers. 

Startled, he pushed himself back. That was when he spotted the cut, the deep cut at the base of her throat. 

She was beyond saving.

Virtually Lace

Paperback Hardcover


Haunted by discovering the body of a beautiful dancer, Michael re-constructs her murder in a virtual reality. Can he bring the mystery to life? Can he solve it in time, before the killer turns on the woman he loves, Ash?

"I felt as though I was in Michael's work environment whenever he was using Virtual Reality. Whether he was displaying Laguna Beach or the Northrop Grumman B -21 Raiders flying overhead, I not only was there but I could feel my heart pounding and my pulse racing... "


Monday, March 4, 2024

Eyes Fallen Shut

Eyes Fallen Shut

By Uvi Poznansky

If my eyes fall shut, there’s no darkness around me

Walls tumble away… I’m not locked in a box

If my ears turn deaf, there’s no suffering. I’m free

Of this incessant ticking of silenced blank clocks

Cursed to wait, wait, wait still longer to dart

When someone out there releases a grip

Now I sense a slight spin… A hinge, stirring… A start 

As my lid cranks, cracks, creaks open, out I slip

Ready or not, here I come… What a loud Pop!

Do I strike fear? Make your heart freeze?

Held up ever-so-briefly, how soon shall I drop

Back into oblivion, back into a squeeze?

Till I’m found again, forgotten, confined

I’ll be dreaming of you, your eyes fallen shut