Tag Archives: family

“Embracing Fatherhood”…(a Podcast Interview with Solomon Tention & JW Nelson – and others)

As we are in Black History month – what does mean to be a father of colour? You could its the same as most other fathers. However looking at at from a personal viewpoint – most Caribbean men my age – their grand parents ere not around in the UK. Maybe your uncles were not either. Plus my parents were in a ‘new country’ here in the UK having left their homes in Jamaica.

What this means I that the ‘extended family’ that say other family who history is from England – will have local aunties, uncles, grandparents maybe nearby. I didn’t and many black father’s won’t either.

It just means there is ‘more weight’ for us to carry as ‘Black fathers’ in a world as we know is difficult for black people to navigate anyway. (for more evidence of this I encourage anyone of any colour to read Michael Holdings thought provoking book : Why We Kneel – How we Rise.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Why-We-Kneel-How-Rise/dp/B08VNK9JG1/ref=sr_1_1?crid=41RP04Y8DDDM&dchild=1&keywords=why+we+kneel+how+we+rise&qid=1634031565&s=books&sr=1-1

Here is the Episode and thanks to Solomon for inviting me to his podcast – its available here:

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/episode-3-embracing-fatherhood/id1581871313?i=1000533086108

Please support Solomon and his podcasts about business, succeeding in life, with education, leadership and making changes to help us all

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-solomon-tention-podcast/id1581871313

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…

My 12 Days of Christmas…

The Partridge is stuck in a tree

What should we do?        

Sing a song, get down one knee?

I could swear I did see two

—-

Oops, sorry that was the Turtle Doves

Yes, there are two of those

Christmas is something everyone loves

Some Turkey and garlic of cloves?

—-

Non! Say the French.

It has to be the trois hens

Don’t agree, be left on the bench

Watch them eat; only through your lens

—-

No fear though,

The four birds outside are calling

Joined by a man, saying, ho, ho, ho

On a sleigh, in the sky, now falling

—-

You throw him five golden rings

Santa needs presents too

Bet you didn’t know he can really sing

There’s so much more he can do

—-

Work his magic on the geese

All six of them lay eggs

The golden ovals represent signs of peace

At this time; no one should ever need to beg

—-

But the water is cold

And the seven swans keep swimming

Wrap up warm, don’t be bold

And your cupboards will be brimming

—-

The eight maids will provide the milk

There’s plenty to go around

Frankincense is replaced by silk

Your footing is now solid, sound

—-

As you celebrate this time of year

And watch nine ladies dance

The ones you love for and care

Surround us and join in the prance

—-

On tiptoes so you can join in

In the circle with the ten lords leaping

Did they have a few shots of Gin?

No, its okay, its all part of the meeting

—-

Moving and swaying to the piper’s tune

The eleven pipe as best they can

Sometime, later that afternoon

They heard the beat of the drumming man

—-

Twelve to be exact

Drumming, drum, drum

Twelve days is a long time to keep up this act

So I say to you all; just go out and have some fun!

December 1st…

In remembrance; for what we had and for what we have lost; my ode to never forget; as you lay in that December frost…

EARTH Mother, LOVETH ;Other

Spiritual holiness does she emit

Patient, comforting forgiveness pours out

Oh how blessed is her radiation that atomises us

Powerful, uncompromising tenacity imbues the mind to turn away from the pit

Righteous discipline, voices quietly, without

Alas, through biblical motherly love we are saved, thus

Company of Fools (new novel)

My debut novel is now available on Amazon in paperback and e-book

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08GHSBJWR/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=

Let me know what you think if you purchase or download a copy …

Thanks

JW

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

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

Stage 4 ‘final prep’ (for the season) Day 22

As we party into the night

Celebrate the time and season

Everything will be just right

When we get ‘that gift’ for a reason 
Anticipation reins supreme 

The annual lesson repeats

When we awake will it be a dream?

Or will Expectations be delivered right to our feet?…
JW Nelson

December 2016