Category Archives: family

BLUE SKY THINKING….

On a random sunny afternoon, sometimes thoughts, ideas, musings from the past, present and future merge as you look skyward. The deepest blue sky and potent yellowy sun start to speak to you in rhyme. So you close your eyes and respo9nd in kind…maybe with something like this…

Sitting in the afternoon sun

I breathe deeply with heat on my back

Not a cloud my eyes can see

My pet dog lies strewn with comfort


The trees sway this way and that

Their shadow cast spookily across my lawn

A small insect escapes the blades

As I watch it struggling to find a path


To dream as I do

It only happens when the sky is eternally blue

A cool breeze refuses to share it’s energy

And supply me, my dog with sufficient air


To feel my dreams develop beyond

An horizon that is impossible to view

How the mind works to supply hope

To those who dare to dream

When sky becomes eternally blue

Radiating heat from the sun

Splatters on my face

On my back on my neck

It’s the suns way of a loving embrace


Yes I dream still of nothing

Into the eternal blue yonder

To find no answers as such

Light years from perdition

I hope and can only wonder


Enjoying the reflective glare

Squinting with delight not derision

My blue sky that is above me;

Could it mean I’m looking;

Directly into the heavens?


A star; yes the celestial being

A yellow ball of sublime heat

And perfunctory light

I sit here to worship your power

With every bone and sinew


The blue sky motivates the thinker

Metastasises the brain like an engine

Churns thoughts, hopes, the unseen shadow

Eyes open wide now as the truth

Waits for you unbidden

When Final Whistle Blows

When the final whistle blows

How will you feel?

Has Kane and Sterling boosted our mood

Will Pickford protect our goal like a shield?

When the final whistle blows

Can Kalvin and Rice protect us?

Or will Stones and Maguire safeguard our back

Or should we ‘Jose’ and park the bus…

When the final whistle blows

We can rely on climbing the ‘Mount’

We see Reece James fly down the wing

Leaving the ‘Italian Job’ with money to count

When the final whistle blows

The young Bellingham and Sancho arrive;

Speed and skill intertwine

Our ‘young bloods’ are start to thrive

When the final whistle blows

Saka and Grealish move at pace;

Let’s trouble the Italian old guard

And give them something else to face

When the final whistle blows

Foden and Rashford add more to the mix;

Left or right makes no odds

A problem we hope the Italians can’t fix

When the final whistle blows

Walker and Mings sit tight;

Calmness plus speed suits us fine

In any match, any day or any night

When the final whistle blows

We hope to be ‘tripping’ the light fantastic;

At any moment you may not be Shaw

Fingers crossed we won’t need anything too drastic

When the final whistle blows

Where will you all be?

It could be heaven or in some hell of a place

We’ll all have to wait and see

When the final whistle blows

55 years is a long time to ‘roam’

I just hope and pray; with a nod and a wink

Gareth; will bring our football home…

The Bond Poetic Vol 3. Returns in: ” The Finger of Gold “

The third Bond Film still ranks in the memory for several reasons. The gold painted lady, the ‘ejector seat’ stunt and ‘that Jag’, then Bond on the table coming perilously close to becoming a soprano and not living to ‘sing that particular tale’.

At Christmas approaches I’m sure we’ll see the usual catalogue of Bond movies to remind how the whole ‘spy movie’ thing got started and seems here to stay.

It was now 1964

The world no longer on hold

007 faces a nemesis once more

A man hypnotised by Gold

—–

Into the fray Bond tracks his man

They know him  as ‘Goldfinger’

The DB5 speeds through Switzerland

No time to slow down, or to linger

——

Smuggling himself into that life

The Golf course is the venue

Odd Job ensures there is no strife

Then removes a head, that cannot be renewed

—–

A crafty plan is set in motion

Is Pussy Galore the key?

Bond has other ideas with her devotion

To change her mind to switch teams?

—–

Bond is caught in the lion’s den

The criminal fraternity are shrouded in smoke 

Goldfinger’s plan is not an ‘if’, but ‘when’

The men in that room perished by the choke

——

Strapped to a table about five feet high

Bond utters his final convincing words

Goldfinger responds ‘You’re supposed to die’

Bond’s luck is in; as his pitch is heard 

—–

But Galore’s planes are now in the air

Poisonous gases ready to deploy

A change of heart the soldiers it did spare

Denying Goldfinger his moment to enjoy

—–

With a plan B, Goldfinger changes tack

Leave Bond trapped with his Korean brick

Bond gives him a shock when he attacks

A sizzling finale did just the trick

—–

Leiter thinks the job is done

Auric has other schemes and ways 

On Galore’s plane Auric saw the sun

And that was the end of Goldfinger’s days…

Company of Fools & Poems for the Festive Season (helping you get ready for Christmas)

For two great presents that will give you some welcomed light relief in these dark times here are two choices for your loved ones Christmas stocking!

For a more visual view of the Comedy Drama (with romance attached) Company of Fools is available on Amazon.com/Amazon.co.uk plus another 10 countries in E-book and Paperback see the link below for the trailer & to purchase a copy…(I welcome any/all reviews/feedback)

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClBkYK8VLns4BU0Dud0_fMA

Get ready for Christmas – I hope this will get you in the mood… go here to order your copy:

Again any feedback /reviews welcomed…thanks J W Nelson

Black History/B.L.M. Vol 1 – October 2020 – J W NELSON

‘There’s no mystery to Black History‘ (that’s my little poetic saying). Parents from Jamaica. I have traced my ancestry back to the point when slavery was just abolished (around 1834).

And now nearly 200 years later in the UK my son and daughter are just learning about Black History in school. Wow. Is this ‘Titantic’ ship starting to turn? Who know, hopefully for everyone of colour, wherever we are all are, whatever status we hold, just maybe there are slivers of light appearing amidst the once long and eternally dark tunnel, that we have been treading.

As a would be poet, below is my first take on the many wonderful black inspirational people that have had endure; so people like me, don’t have to as much. More to follow throughout October (and maybe beyond) on other topics.

WHO ARE WE? (starting with the past)

Commemorating Rosa Parks Day | SFMTA

We could be the person on the bus

Your name may be have been Rosa Parkes

Your life made to suffer by the colour of your skin

Yes; they have tried to eat us; those ‘white sharks’

Assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. - Wikipedia

We were the people without a voice

But Martin Luther made them hear

Look what they did to our dear proud brother

Because he made ‘them’ see what they all feared

Jesse Owens vs Adolf Hitler, Berlin 1936 Olympics | The German who helped  humiliate the Fuhrer

We are the ones that move fast

Yes; Jesse Owens showed the dictator this

In the face of complete and utter oppression

It’s something that hasn’t quite fallen over the precipice

The Assassination of Malcolm X - Biography

We have own Marvel Man from the past

No wheelchair in sight; but his name has an X

A voice for black empowerment

And contrary to many he wasn’t always vexed

The Story of Phillis Wheatley. By Elizabeth Warren | by Team Warren | Medium

A personal mentor; the first black female poet

If you don’t know; Phillis Wheatley was her name

George Washington recognised the talent

For every poet; she should be in your ‘hall of fame’

David Blight on Frederick Douglass: 'I call him beautifully human' | Books  | The Guardian

We need to be like our once enslaved Frederick Douglass

He fought to support those via the abolition of slavery

Putting pen to paper for all to read

His life, his very own Black History

Thurgood Marshall: 20 Facts - Legacy.com

We are the ones that Marshall the Good

Overturn the wrong for the right

Winning against segregation for the learning to occur

We thank him for providing; ‘out of darkness’ we too now have light

Muhammad Ali | Biography, Bouts, Record, & Facts | Britannica

We are among the ‘greatest’ ones that had to rumble

The man with fists and feet of flight

Yes Cassius/Muhammed Ali knew how to move

You couldn’t stop him talking either; any day or night

Oscar win proved Sidney Poitier was second to none

We are the ones that have had to ACT

Mr. Poitier the consummate pro; won an Oscar

Imagine that in an era for his accolade

Showed that black people could also raise ‘the bar’

Harriet Tubman - Family, Underground Railroad & Death - Biography

We should be Harriet Tubman the saviour

Literally saving over 300 enslaved souls

Nursing her community to a better educated life

She was dedicated, selfless and bold

Unbought And Unbossed': When a Black Woman Ran for the White House | At the  Smithsonian | Smithsonian Magazine

We are the forerunner’s to make things happen

From a seat of power to make the change

Shirley Chisholm started the political race

And now her stepping stones has put us on the front page

Madam C.J. Walker - Products, Daughter & TV Show - Biography

We are the entrepreneur’s with a million in the bank

Madam C J Walker knew how to make ‘hair pay’

Making jobs for over 3,000 people at that time

Means we continue to use her genius every single day 

Review: Marvel's 'Black Panther' Is Politically Passionate Blockbuster  Filmmaking

We are everyone, everything, just like you

We have beautiful, hair, colour, skin and eyes

We are proud, clever, funny with intelligence

We are here, we are all together, let’s all keep aiming for that prize…

School – It makes you think…

When I think of going to school
I think about not breaking rules
To think of things that are nice and good
I do think about my school: my neighbourhood
—-
To think of all our teachers that help
We should think & behave; so there’s no need to yelp
Thoughts of playing with our friends
Thinking of a time when we can meet again
—-
Thinking today of our school year
Thinking of my parents worries and fears
I can think that soon this time will end
I can think of home school: that email to send
—-
Thinking of what I really long for
Thinking I really want to learn more
Thinking of the laughing and squealing
Thinking; how is everyone feeling?
—-
Thinking of getting back to my school
Thinking of all the things that make it cool
I think I like the reading and numbers best
I think I we will all pass this test
—-
I do think we will find the time
I’m thinking this as I write this rhyme
My thoughts won’t put you on the brink
I just know how School makes me think…
J W Nelson

 

One Page Novels by – J.W. Nelson Volume 1

       train-1635038_1280    The Dream Journey by Train

Samuel Peterson, a frantic, stubborn man, leapt forward in huge strides, as he targeted the 1615 from St. Pancras station. The tannoyed voice ricocheted violently across the air, entering Peterson’s ears presumptuously. A female, high pitched tone droned on about the train he was about to catch, so he hoped. His legs moved swiftly now, like a greyhound chasing that ever moving plastic rabbit.

Sweating profusely, panting heavily, his 13 stone out of shape body, lumbered towards the train, sitting noisily on platform 3.  Entering the cabin, exhaling for moment to draw breath, Peterson scanned the seats from his bespectled view.  Cabin H, first class, yes that’s the one, seat number 13a. Fourteen pair of eyes drilled his. His stature. His demeanour. Decisions about Samuel permeated their minds. A tall, scruffy looking, male with no discernible instant appearance to determine his ancestry, perplexed the other passengers.

A large, untidy beard, covered his facial skin, as did his baseball cap for his head. An expensive pinstriped suit, finished off with white tatty trainers, sounded alarm bells in already prejudiced views. Without completely recoiling, as Peterson shifted towards his seat, eyes averted his as he drew near, as though Peterson was a storm or a hurricane heading in their direction. Then the moment of truth, seat 13a. There with her head down in 13b, sat a lady, about forty years old, auburn hair, glued to her electronic device. She didn’t look up once, as Peterson, fumbled with his bag in the overhead space. He spied her, eying her over, from her head to her feet. Deliberately taking his time to address his bag, compensating for the being intently watched by two men in seat 16a & b. This pragmatic opportunity delivered itself like a gift.

Finally slumping unceremoniously into his seat, Sarah White looked across at Peterson. ‘Hello Sarah. We were wandering when we’d have this meeting. You know what I mean don’t you?’

‘Don’t start Sammie. Drop the bullshit and give it to me straight for once’, Sarah fired back again turning to face the window she sat against.

‘I’d love to give it to you straight, you know that right’, Peterson desperately wanted to smile, yet his professionalism didn’t allow that sort of emotion or frivolity. His voice even, no discernible accent.

Sighing, shaking her head, Sarah White’s beautiful, cosmetically manicured face, bright emotionless eyes, began losing some of  colour, vibrancy and sparkle.

‘You lot better understand something’, she started, her voice low, yet determined. ‘If anything happens to me…’ Peterson and Sarah were interrupted by the attendant serving drinks. Peterson ordered two white tea’s with one sugar.

‘You were threatening something’, Peterson continued Sarah’s last repost, as she anxiously stirred her one sugared tea.

‘It doesn’t’ matter anyway’, Sarah reacted sharply, sipping her tepid beverage, ‘ your organisation will find out soon enough’.

‘Umm I see’, Peterson, muttered to himself, something he rarely did. Then he turned to face Sarah, rather seductively, knowing she despised him and his intentions. ‘My secret love, oh how my heart is saddened, as thou’s last journey on a train, leads to your final resting place’. His words faded as the sun does at around 840pm in the summertime. Sarah’s body relaxed, her eyes closing gently, settling into her seat, she drifted into a never ending cycle of sleep.

Peterson sat upright, nonchalant, calm, normal. Chirping could be heard from his right hand jacket pocket, the Mission Impossible theme tune by Lalo Schifrin. Peterson extracted his phone an answered. ‘Is it done’?, was the question. ‘What do you think? Peterson bounced his rhetorical question at his caller. ‘Of course, she’s sleeping’.

That morning, Samuel Peterson, awoke snuggled up in bed with his wife Sarah, who didn’t know about his murderous intentions to divorce her..

(c) Copyright J W Nelson 2017

My Political Map…

 

The countdown begins in earnest

As May holds the main seat

A stuttering ‘Laboured’ approach

Has already left them facing defeat?


What about those from the ‘Kip’?

Are they back to square one?

Or will the Liberal crew rise up

And make us forget what partnership has done


Where’s Monster Raving what’s itsname?

I know the Greens are still here?

Our Scottish neighbours don’t want to be

The future uncertain and full of fear?


 

The unknown is the clouded view

Brexit with a myriad of permutations sorted that

Which way to turn is anyone’s guess

Maybe; ideas out of a hat?


 

Who can we trust with our Crown Jewels ?

Rail, Utilities the foreboding NHS?

Is nationalising the answer?

What would you the people suggest?


 

The June date is on the horizon

Our fate and security in Westminster’s hands

Think we’ll now and for the future

To ensure we’ve chosen the right plan


 

A crucial step is now ready

Where will you ‘X’ your box?

The political equivalent could rein

When the hens are seized by the fox?


 

Do our utmost is all we can do

Making our own well informed choice

Can each of our votes really make a difference?

Do nothing and they’ll never hear your voice…

 

J.W. Nelson

June 2017


whats the time mr Wolf

Symbol…

 

 

 

 

New Year Wishe(s)

So I guess it’s time to wish

The new year I hope will spark

New beginnings, a new healthy dish

Hard work maybe, with a little walk in the park
Bright, positive hopes 

Coupled with realistic plans

No flight, keep the fight to cope

Resist the temptation for  the’beer cans’ 
Upward, onward, hoisted on the expectant breeze 

2017 is our story yet to be written 

Delivery of your goal is yours to seize 

We reach our targets as we are smitten
Hooked onto the unexpected 

Galvanise all of our effort and time

Never let our family, role,survival be neglected 

Live our lives, day by day as a rhyme…
JW Nelson 

December 31, 2016

Final stage ‘yes we are ready’ (for the season) Day 24

Yes it’s nearly here now

Special time with family 

Togetherness reins and how

As another door is opened by a unique key
Unlock the spirit to always care

Survival through effort allows us to cope

We see you all at yours , here and there 

Aiming for the target of fervent hope…
Happy Christmas 

J W Nelson 

December 2016