Skip to main content

OEBooks Book Blog Gets a New Look

I knew it was time for a change. Been knowing it quite a while. But here's my problem.

I've always worked off script, unafraid to be different. But I fear telling someone what I want because I'm afraid... & woo how that word makes me cringe... fearing that I won't get what I want... and woo, this one makes me cringe even doubly the shiver... because I also fear I'll be asked to pay for what I didn't want.  It's something like visiting a hair salon.

Oh my goodness! I'll sit in a chair, point to a style in a book I like, get spun around, and want to scream out loud at the shock of the fright! And No! It's not my face! The style is just nowhere near to my taste.  My daughter has been with me on a few of these excursions, someone who knows me very well, and she'll even look at me after I get spun around and quietly remark, "no, that style isn't you."

But wait... let me backtrack right here. Because yes, there are exactly three stylists who've turned my do into exactly what works for me, and every time too. So yes, there are extremely talented artists who know their hairstyling stuff. My problem is fearing the what if... and along with that what if, is what if the artist wants to be paid... ugh... for something I could have done myself! And here's the real clincher, as if there needs to be another... but psst... psst... those stylists who've done my 'do' just right. Well, guess what? I never pointed to a picture in a book. Somehow they looked at me, my hair, my head, and just put it all together, giving me something I could work with.

I know someone out here knows exactly what I'm referring to. But if not, and even if so, let me throw off another one of my gems, inside GEM, that tap dances around this theme. And oh, while I'm thinking on it, that masthead up there, I love the look for now.  It's a twist between something professionally scholarly... and laid back relaxed... you know... a little something that reflects that side of me.

Romancing a Stone

This chap,
an obtuse, rotund, perturbed
obviously portly brainy old knap
stuffed in a lounge chair chugging on a pipe
furrowed brows looking disturbed
his own doing, his own plight
apparently a literary sponge in his own right
dribbling rhetorical sentiments
in a hardened ashy voice
talking about life and its nascent vernaculars of choice.

Miffed and rightly perturbed
I grabbed the phone and dialed back home,
plagued by who on earth would hack into a nugget,
desecrate nature, it really hurt.
I mean, critique the work, don't lucubrate its worth.

Okay. Okay. And Uh huh, Uh huh.
Let me calm down and start back over
with the scholarly imperial old fella
and his comrades in the back row
who without inquisition or provocation
he first, and then the back row
grabbed a drill and each took turns
to mow and sow
into harden clay, dried and set in stone,
over and over, they took turns, performing
a lithotomy into 45-year old stone not meant to churn.

Filled up, juiced up, stuffed old rustic doorknobs
masticating over dawdling things,
the portentous fed up greedy snobs,
groveling over a desert tray too small for their eyes,
oscillating impervious hyperbole I now realize.

Should the Sahara cover up and hide from tears in the sky,
and at least one penguin be made to get up and fly?
Must a right or left be the absolute mandate
and Mother Nature's storm of itinerant children
be taught obedience?

What happened?
Were they looking for salt less sultry,
sharing a fact unknown
me pushing beer nuts and cheese up their nose
where they preferred they not go?
Or had insolence shared a brand of Merlot
they already knew,
tell me, who's doing who?

Wait, wait. I went into the phone
asking back home to please hold on,
for drilling into hardened clay a little too long,
trying my damnest to romance a stone.


  1. Congratulations! You're winner #1 for a week of FREE promo on the BookZone network!

    P.S. I LOVE the new look!

  2. This is poem I'd like to hear out loud, performed. Beautiful rhythms to it, glorious vocabulary (I did have to look up lucubrate, lol!) - loved the hardened ashy voice, and so much else.

    The new site looks good. IMO, the masthead part would work just a little bit smaller (maybe about 80-85% of how big it is now) with a bigger border, but, that's MY taste, not necessarily yours.

  3. Thanks Dee! Left you a msg. I'll check back with you;-)

    And Beverly thanks! About the compliment and suggestion. I thought the same, but then when I stood back and looked at the image, this sort of 'old lit' nostalgia came over me. Had me thinking back on old newspapers where a person could read the headline a mile away. LoL. Believe it or not it happened to be the one thing that made me say, now I like that:-)

    I don't know... maybe next week I'll be trying to change it;-)

  4. You've got a new look. I thought you were moving to Wordpress.

    I see you're feeling poetic these days. I like it, but like Beverly, I'd like to hear it. I would understand it better that way, I think. I'm usually a visual person but with poetry, my learning style becomes auditory. Why don't you do a video or audio of it and upload it? The cadence and sounds really good. I'm not so confident in publishing my poetry on my blog since it's more personal, or rather, more emotional than what I post there now.

    It's looking and sounding good over here.

  5. Man! I think some ESP is going around and I'm missing out!

    I wanted to switch but like I do, I got impatient and found this worked better than spending time doing a switch.

    And back to the ESP, I was just about to post on the audio books I'm also working on, which as the post was about to go, I'm told I've got to get the 'acoustics' right first... which onto my impatient thing, I'm about to scratch off the acoustics since I don't fully understand it and just run with the sound I have. LoL... Shucks, I think my natural voice sounds just fine.

  6. Get the background music and then read without it to see what you like best. Usually, it works well without music if you've got some singing abilities. The background just enhances your work, that's all. It's all a part of the media stuff that people go for.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Rumor About One Race

It’s a funny thing, how some things you hear stay with you in that sixth sense sort of way, as if the information will serve some future purpose.

True Story. I was in elementary school when a teacher got to talking about three true races—Caucasian, Mongoloid, and Negroid, and how one day there would be One Race. For a placeholder I attended Philadelphia (PA) Public Schools, K-straight thru-12 (99.98% black student population) where there was always ‘that’ teacher who would put aside a textbook to impart ‘move to the edge of your seat’ information... something I later figured out would take “dynamic positioning” to find its originating source. I even think the teacher may have said we wouldn’t find this information written anywhere.

At any rate, I’m all kinds of fuzzy about how the original three races came to be, but recall 3rd grade hands going up in the air asking why this and how that and what about this, and then somebody saying, “unt un... my mother said...”

Naturally I was intr…

When Opinions Cross the Line

Two literary topographies brought this historical commentary together; a social media Headline asserting some books are irrelevant, and Stacey Dash’s memoir, ‘There Goes My Social Life’. (My other thoughts here).

I didn't pause long enough to so much as note the social media headline, but did pause after catching wind of Stacey Dash's outspoken stance on supporting American businessman and Republican politician, Mitt Romney. Stacey is an American Actress notable for her role in the film CluelessSIGH—I’ve never seen Clueless, but have seen this actress in other films... which was what inspired me to want to read her memoir. Being a Big Picture thinker, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the hoopla behind her outspoken political views.

My great-great grandfather, born in America in the mid 1800’s, was a Republican. Per my father, historically the American working class primarily voted Republican, though he, and then me, marveled about my great-great grandfather's r…

What Makes a Book Feel Good? ...A Top 10 List

When you it’s said... live and learn, you learn LOVE comes in stages. So far, I’ve come across three stages of love. Puppy Love. Hormonal Love. And the ultimate love. Unconditional Love.

Lo and behold albeit, after finally getting around to reading Roy Blount’s memoir, “Be Sweet” (a memoirist who has at least twenty some years on me), I got to reading him summarizing unconditional love as ‘just an expression’ ..."like any other two words." Now, because his memoir is largely satirical, and given the title, on top of knowing better to think I know more than my elders (haha), it was hard to tell whether to take the definition seriously or facetiously. Whichever the case, as of today I define unconditional love without conditions. Unlike puppy love, built largely on a giddy childish infatuation superficially marveling over things or people, or that hormonal love responding to the cyclones and ebbs moving our hormones in this invisible like cylinder, there are no ifs, ands…