Today there are approximately forty million slaves ten million of which are sex slaves, as like before these poor poverty stricken women are used as weapons of war I was reading how some had been sold for as little as a packet of cigarettes . Today in the west girls become slaves working out suburban back bedrooms cellars or even in the case of a friend from some pantry steps using Web cams they account for a third of all organised crime profits .

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The Oxfam shop or "The dead man's drop" is an essential part of our high street culture we all of us at some stage find ourselves sifting through their silt as if stroking and smelling the scents and spirits of our past relatives like some lost and found bric-a-brac burial ground we old elephants come to rummage around amongst the bones and skin of our not so long ago departed kin. Unfortunately all the objects mentioned in this musing is what I have purchased and given away to friends and family as Christmas and birthday presents including many more objects d'arts or as most of my recipient's see it , jumble sale junk.

A song I wrote for a crazy young girl who's beauty could have caused Aphrodite to scream a blue rage of jealously and it was fairly obvious to see her maker man was OCD and once you're under her spell you just can't break free . all rights reserved.

A short song I wrote for my god children who love to alternate things to risky rhetoric especially in cartoons and almost all things their word play being a speciality children always push the boundaries of imagination and give chancy candid connotations as if they're the most natural notions of naivety. . , all rights reserved.

This is a poem about the complacency of people and their attitudes towards the temperature rise of two degrees you'd think that the powers that be were waffling about a couple of cream teas or the price of peas, some have the audacity to blame the up and coming new economies such as the Chinese after we have been pumping out the smoke and sleaze since the early 1750's others think that it's just a temperature tease and come the next year we'll all be back to the big freeze I don't know what it's going to take to move the world's most powerful trustees maybe when it begins to back flush the drains up around everyone's knees .

A minute musing about Lord Kitchener who's Sabre rattling speeches come sermons raised rampant applause back in Whitehall and Westminster whilst unfortunately his young Virgin soldiers were dying by 6000 a day , he had printed into their guide books for war , "avoid wine and women" meaning french prostitutes , with a life expectancy of 17 hours catching a little pox would have been the least of their worries .

Sooner than later we as a species will have to address our crazy situation of over population , due to land perishing and pollution in the final stages we may very well end up as refugees building our own blood lined barricades of revolution .

Upon seeing a cold cadaver staring back people begin to timidly tread in fear of the dead circling round as though it be some spectral apparition of dread .

A poem about emperors pope's and kings who believe themselves to be the devine demagoguery even as children they  had whipping boys  to take away their punishment and guilt, sacred scapegoats for them to stripe and slaughter ; If a devine deity did arrive on planet earth these mobsters and megalomaniacs would soon see them quickly murdered .

This is a song i wrote about the catastrophic creations cause through having too much cosmetic surgery leaving so many a patient in the perpetual state of a reconstructive purgatory the surgeons are called the picasso's of the plastique, well they certainly end up with a foot an mouth or a tongue-in-cheek , they sculpture and scalpel at something that once started out as the face of the fantastic but by the final phase come cut you're left with a gargoyle freak. All rights reserved.