A cynical love song . My Family members were 1920s dyed-in-the-wool Yorkshiremen who believed that love be measured in pounds Shillings and pence and behind the white picket fence was a work house specially built to keep wife wain or wench who had a value similar to that of blood stock and foul , children being merely chattels without soul .

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A short story based upon real life events of my childhood at the time they felt terrifying but now looking back they are the source of amusement for writing. Blue bloods are quite simply mad !! , they treat normal reality as an inconvenient triviality , rules to them don't exist  and the rest of mere mortality are kept around as fluffers for their joviality in what's usually a porno drama of pansexuality .

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A short story based on real life events when I first ever traveled abroad to France and we lived like tramps on the street washing in fountains stealing food from shops as vagrants and vagabonds until somebody came up with a great idea of putting together the tramps brigade who lived on the swamp in cap d'age the next thing we were all assigned duties and discipline

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A short humorous story I wrote about a man who was carrying a vicarious redemption on behalf of something else a burdensome task which was only relinquished by his death where upon he was given the cold cruel truth by his absent minded time lord who tries to make amends but far too late .

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A musing for a wonderful women we called Ann Summers due to her working there, she asked for a birthday card poem and caused me a writer's block which when I tried to explain she cursed me a look of pure disdain , so I wrote it along the lines of if I'd bumped into her serving at the Ann summers shop. Katie looks at all men with indifference and always takes fun from them I say Bravo Darling it's all we do so deserve . Art work by Steven Richardson.

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Oliver Cromwell said to his portrait artist , Paint me warts and all he had the skin of and old toad after his death his body was exhumed and hung at Tyburn then his head was decapitated and placed outside Westminster palace the parliament he'd spilt so much blood to put in place. I've purposely placed the old archaic English terms into rural colloquial Yorkshire speech which in certain communities is still in common use today .

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A musing about the private member's bills passed with rousing British Parliamentary pomposity it sounds like they're committing a serious aural atrocity but it's usually being diatribed by someone that's spieling through their own suppository .

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A poem written for a crazy young woman who I fell hopelessly in love with during the summer of 1992 whilst working in the South of France aboard yachts in the port of Antibes . Together we stayed in a huge stone pile called the chateau Laval courtesy of Jack et Michelle Olga was a green-eyed goddess with olive skin and a temper that she'd borrowed from the dog cerberus , I was a dotting fool but hay to everyone who's ever suffered from the lightning strike of love at first sight or as the Italians call it "amoure a prima vista" or in the French" le coupé de foudre", all I can say is that like myself i hope that you've never recovered and never do because it's a beautiful feeling of being processed by the madness of passion.

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A poem for Neno who used to be a winged traveler in her younger days but now since having a baby daughter Lily named after the immortal horn of Gabriel she doesn't feel the need to leave this earthly piece of ground she has discovered the destiny for which she was bound .

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Twenty years ago it came as quite a shock when someone we knew  became bisexual especially as they'd been such a lady killer and then became such a man eater, still what then seemed such a big squeal is now an every day done deal.

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