A musing for Lily's tenth birthday with leather jacket to match my own design of cause - mother not too keen I have a sneeking suspicion she'd like one too . By ten years of age kids of today are silicone valley sage a decade old an they're ready to fledge the family fold , far too cool for school they just let TiK ToK Rock and Rule !! .

It's very difficult to understand the parable of the prodigal son but you must not forget what you're dealing with is someone just above a bowery Street bum , who will squander everything and leave you in distress and destitution then they will move on to find more money to squander on piss and prostitution.

William marwood's long drop solution, brought about a revolution in the British Empires approach for delivering and dispatching a more humane method of execution .

The loss of a lion's mane is similar to that of a man's hair as it recedes they both become a little timid and tame loosing pride and prowess both these mammals are now out of the mating game .

A poem about a very beautiful woman called Claudia who's powerful persona ricochete around us like a midnight thunder , on first meeting she would still and seduce ya with her silent stare of medusa .

A poem written for two old Bohemians who through reckless behaviour in younger year did so destroy the fragile entity of love and are now left with just the ghost of her to haunt their old empty hearts .

A musing written for lily age 9 and her cat Sean who's got terribly fat of late getting himself stuck in his own cat flap due to having been neutered and putting on rather a bit too much timber . A new front door was also fitted without taking his correct cross whiskered measurements . Narrated in a Yorkshire accent due to Sean being born and raised in Harrogate .

a musing about an artist girlfriend and her crazy cultural crew, their works of art or gestation periods of genius seem to take as long as those of a real pregnancy .

What was once a stamp for the tramp or cut of a criminal class its now adorning faces and physique of aristocrat royalty and even the supermodel chic .

This is a poem 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 gargoyled freak.