Listen and you will learn

‘Prof Jackson, folks. Put your hands together for the professor.’ 
           ‘So Prof, what made you a Nobel prize winner?’
           ‘It was when I was eight years old—’
           ‘Now folks did you know what you wanted at eight. Isn't that wonderful.’
           ‘Thanks and my father woke—’ 
           ‘Yes folks, clap for Dads…’

A Song to live by

 

Only her face shone in the stage lights, the moon to the audience's stars as recording lenses sparkled back. Her note broke the silence of death to summon hope. Out of the darkness came the answer, a deep despair to her joy—both voices merging in a hymn to life.

Roots

'What did dad do,' asked Jack smiling up at her.
            She dreaded the innocent questions. How do you explain, a drunkard fumble with neither party remembering what was loosened until one of them suddenly knew what was tighten.

He felt her lie long before he knew how to forgive her.

Forgotten Witness

 

The stone stood, a relic marking where once the slaughter of the innocents took place. Who now cares for the truth- they were bait for enemy lured to defeat or the myth- a nation born out of struggle. Only songs remember why—the bodies, with the nation, long since dust.

How not to ask for a Loan

‘I don't get it.’  
            ‘Its simple really, I have invested—’
            ‘Spent’  
            ‘Invested my bonus in a sports bike so I can scrap the car.’ 
            ‘You don’t have legs?’
            ‘Dad, it's too far.’ 
            ‘So I dig into my pockets, have bread taken out of my mouth and you save the planet?’

For better or for worse

We are going out whether you like it or not
think of the glamour when we are on the yacht.
I'm on the mobile.

I could wear the little black dress with gold edges.
To think, they live in houses with concierges.
Shush, on the mobile.

Try to wear your pinstripe suit, as for our first kiss,
and look with love rather than taking the piss.
Finished the mobile...

...I hear he replaced you with jail bait—yes, I know.
So do yachts matter more…should I stay or go?
I'll ring the mobile.

Strange Fruit

The scream was short but it was the signal for the crowd to break up, some at least looking shamefaced. Not always, the ones you expected, Silas would say years later on the rare occasions he let the booze win. His granddaughters' angry why let him cry the past clean.