Category Archives: Book Reviews
THE CHILDREN AT SUNDOWN
Jump, hop, spin, dance
Fly, rope and teeter
The bright sun
Is the right one
Bringing warmth and light
Until the night
When we settle down
And try and make things right
Play the clown
Maybe fun around
And, live the life
Jump, hop, spin, dance
Bringing warmth and light
Frank Bloomer. A Bridge. Bloomington: Xlibris Book Publishing, ISBN 978-1-46536-476-0. 2011. E-Book.
David P. Gonzales. A Different View. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-46534-354-3. 2011. Perfect Bound Softcover.
No amount of hugs
Your loss is immense
It will take its toll
But you will find it
For your Mom is at peace
In time d1ewill glow in your
Things will find their place
And happiness will fill
The grief you now
So hold on with both hands
For this journey will hurt
A quiet dream
Not void ofsound
But void of a heartbeat
To enter is to trust
To trust is to chance
To chance is to leap
The leap could hurt
Maybe one day
Someone may have an
Heart and soul
With no hidden agenda
But with asoul
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Child Of Mine
There’s a peaceful feeling,
Warm as the end of spring
That surges from my heart,
Gains every body part.
It caresses my soul
And slowly takes control
Of my heart sturdy pace
To make over my face.
It entertains my mind,
Shuts the whole world behind
Leaves me in ecstasy
With your face, my Chérie.
It gives me strength I need
And my libido feels,
Takes me for a joy ride;
The reaction I hide.
So you see the trace
Of a smile on my face
It’s because the Divine
By his grace made you mine.
JeanMichel. 50 Golden Pieces Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-42575-732-8. 2008. Casebound Hardcover.
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Brenda Brown. A New Dawn. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-44150-773-0. 2009. Casebound Hardcover.
Trailing the rut impressed on the sands of time by the rolling wheel of history, I stepped outside the neat edge of protocol, and dissect into ‘characters’ shared in human societies from the viewpoint of an African setting! This view anchors on a deliberate effort to explore into African mythology, exposing its strengths and pitfalls and an attempt to remodel a culturally-rooted belief system into a modern and more egalitarian societal ideology. This work is done in retrospect back to the fore, looking at how the African setting was and where it is now and trying to define the transformation in its value systems, and the general response of people when given ….continue reading here.
Trailing the rut impressed on the sands of time by the rolling wheel of history, I stepped outside the neat edge of protocol, and dissect into ‘characters’ shared in human societies from the viewpoint of an African setting! This view anchors on a deliberate effort to explore into African mythology, exposing its strengths and pitfalls and an attempt to remodel a culturally-rooted belief system into a modern and more egalitarian societal ideology.
This work is done in retrospect back to the fore, looking at how the African setting was and where it is now and trying to define the transformation in its value systems, and the general response of people when given the opportunity to take decisions for a change in their conditions!
I have painted a hypothetical picture of a village “Ileamo” which is a fair demographic reflection of the Nigerian cultural terrain. This model is an apt analogue of what is obtainable in most human societies, although in varying degrees, particularly the developing world! This work reflects a ‘panoply of cultures” in view of the variegated ethnic and cultural diversities in any African setting as in other cultures!
The play also strongly reflects a transition from cultural dogmas to a societal value based on facts. The peoples present determination to cross check all cultural dogmas with real and practicable facts. I feel this is where African settings are now, as do other cultural settings.
However, this play is more of an eye-opener to better understanding of the rich cultural heritage of Africans and the need to appreciate the strengths of the ancient traditional institutions and all the transformation they have undergone but more importantly, how the present drive for personal gain at the expense of human value, good sense and the common good has seriously eroded into a once rich cultural heritage to one based on kick backs. Hence, the reason for the recent rat-race for materialism! It also pictures how the ancient traditional institutions played on the ignorance and absolute loyalty of subjects to pervert truth and justice.
Thus, I have decided to employ the use of praise chants, drumming and dance in the body of the play as this is central to the African life and in order to portray the spirit behind the inspiration of the write up. The rhythms of the drums synchronized with the praise chants.
However, since plays can very rarely be produced without necessary changes to the script, you may make cuts and changes in scenes if necessary! To cast this play, it is imperative that all the casts catch the spirit behind this write up and they should act in a typical African way and style.
This play is a lively one in all its simplicity, injecting new life into African drama and evoking greater audience participation and thus, building bridges of understanding into an age-old cultural heritage of which Africa is synonymous with Finally, as you take an excursion back to the fore, you’ll discover all by yourself the sensibilities that make a people thick, where they derailed and then understand inside out the scale of the veil that’s responsible for the divide between the 1‘ and 3″‘ worlds! And then propounding possible hypothesis to decades of tumult that had grounded a people, at least from the brief account of an insider.
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Paul Harris & Fawn Harris. Beverly Hills Gothic. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-0-73884-173-1. 2007. Perfect Bound Softcover.
This historical psycho-thriller takes place in the second house built in the city of Beverly Hills, an exact duplication of a Renaissance castle, complete with dungeons and torture chambers.
Bella Marlowe, a glamorous heiress, who is also a serial murderer, whose penchant for decadence attracts real-life celebrities like: William Randolph Hearst, the Duke of Windsor, Presidents Taft, Harding, JFK, along with the actors, directors, and producers, who made movies; as history and fiction interpenetrate each other, in a social and cultural history of Beverly Hills and Hollywood, from 1912 to the early 1960’s.
Bella took a key out of her pocket. She unlocked the door and stepped aside as Ellen rushed past her, frantically looking for Annabelle. There were cries coming from a human-shaped cabinet against the wall. She ran over to it, and pulled open the door. The baby was propped up against the back of the cabinet. As Ellen bent down to pick her up, something sharp pierced her ear. Before her arms could reach for the child, she fell forward. She turned her head, and looked up at a smiling Bella. She tried to speak, but no sound came from her lips. Bella picked up the baby and walked outside the torture chamber. She carefully placed the infant on the rack table. She returned to Ellen, who was barely conscious. Bella pulled the long, jewelled hatpin out of the girls ear. She then put Ellen’s wrists through the silk ropes in the Iron Maiden. She turned a lever on the outside of the cabinet, which was attached to pulleys on the inside. Slowly, she raised her so that she was in an upright position in the cabinet. She pushed the lever into a lock position. She tied Ellen’s ankles with another set of silk ropes to hold her immobile. She arranged the girls clothes neatly, even smoothing the auburn hair in place. She noticed a ring on Ellen’s finger. She slipped it off and put it in her pocket. She then took her fine lace handkerchief and wiped a little smudge of dirt from Ellen’s cheek. She stepped back and looked at her efforts. Finally satisfied, she moved forward and kissed Ellen gently on the lips. She closed the door of the vertical coffin, and carefully locked it. Then, as was her habit, she ran her fingers slowly over the engraved metal decorations on the outside of the Iron Maiden. She pressed up against it and repeated her sensual undulating dance. When she was satisfied, she left La Chambre de Torture and got Annabelle. As she ascended the stone stairs, she carefully snuffed out each candle. Before she entered the Great Hall, she looked through a small peep hole in the panel. The huge room was deserted. She slid open the secret compartment and walked through the opening. It closed silently behind her. She went upstairs to the nursery suite using
the ornate elevator, rather than the stair case. She placed Annabelle, who was now sleeping, in her cradle. Making sure that no one was about, Bella went into Ellen’s room. It was neat and clean, and smelled of the violet scent that her victim always wore. In a few minutes, she had taken all of the young woman’s sparse belongings and thrown them into a pillow case. She checked all of the drawers and cupboards to ensure that no trace was left. She took both sheets off the girls narrow bed.
She carried the bundle downstairs back to the dungeons, pressed the stone in the floor, and threw all of Ellen’s worldly possessions
into the gaping deep hole that held Howard.
She returned to the torture chamber and unlocked the Iron Maiden. She put one of the sheets on the ground in front of it. She
released the pulleys, and Ellen’s bloody corpse fell forward. She then took the other sheet and carefully wiped all the blood off the
spikes on the inside of the Maiden. Humming a little tune, she worked diligently and efficiently. When she was satisfied with her efforts, she untied the crimson stained silk cords from the body and used them to secure the sheet around the dead girl. She dragged the grisly bundle to the hole in the floor and pushed it into the limestone pit.
Andrew was impatient to return home. Now, that he had finally decided to leave Bella, he wanted to expedite his plans. He wished he could have canceled his appearance tonight, but he had been invited to speak to a group of oil men about a new kind of drill that had been invented by a man named Hughes. Andrew’s company, Marloil, had been one of the first to test it in field trials. His expert evaluation was eagerly awaited by the others.
When he had Punished his report and answered several questions from the floor, he excused himself and left the meeting. He drove home as quickly as he could. He felt a small nagging worry about Ellen and although he could not have identified it as such subconsciously, he knew it was fear.
When he arrived home, the Mansion was dimly lit, and none of the servants were about. He climbed the stairs, two at a time. He opened the door and walked into the nursery. A small light made huge shadows of the cradle’s silhouette on the walls. All of the stuffed animals and the wooden rocking horse appeared as grotesque characters in a reflected shadowy line. There was someone seated in the rocking chair, moving back and forth, slowly, methodically. He walked over, eager to greet Ellen.
As he reached the chair, he blurted out, ‘Ellen, my darling girl!’ Suddenly, he realized it was not Ellen, but Bella, who was seated in the chair.
She stood up and faced him. Her pale eyes glittered in the dim light.
I’m so sorry, Andrew, that it’s not your darling girl, just your wife.”
“Where is Ellen?” he asked quietly.
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