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The Life(s) of
‘I’ & ‘Me’ & ‘You’ & ‘Us’
Book 2 – ‘the damned’
(this is an antithesis of book1 )
Only Book2 of the series of books is not for sale in the UK.
Not For Sale In UK. (by order of the corrupt Cheshire West and Chester County Council in UK
in their efforts of covering up the abuses of
their Social Services
through the abuse of the powers of the secret family courts)
Index of Poems
A collection of negative life experience poems
Of domestic violence Of current authoritarian abuse and repression
In ENGLAND
Where Free Speech Does Not Exist
and Moral Decency Is Scarce
and Nobody Cares
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in all my life
i never expected
what happened next
pray that you and your children
are never subject to social workers
What happens in England
when Police, Local Authority and Social Services
are all negligent
and as a result of this, they sacrifice the well being of children
to cover their authoritarian negligence and abuse
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General Introduction To The Series Of Books.
What can you do with all that huge amount of available time between begatting,
feeding and metabolising?
There’s no clear unique manual, and everybody has an opinion, and too many opinions are cranky or boring or not terribly satisfying. Need to climb a tree and
get a better view of this neighbourhood? This neighbourhood is a big blue rock
flying through space with a whole lot of mixed up aliens on it.
As for me, I’m lucky, if and when I waken in the morning I’ve got ten fingers. It’s always nice to smile and get a little more understand of things. I’m curious
and happy and playful; stuck my head and my fingers in a lot of things, and still
coming out smiling – but that’s mostly because I’m me, and I like me. It’s an
internal thing.
Living is not a problem where the basics are concerned. We are born and die; there, that was really easy.
It’s the middle bit, the actually living that’s more difficult. Along the way we
breathe, eat, metabolise and procreate; all under automation. Pretty good
design really. The instructions are all in some fancy chemical codes that you get issued with at the start of begatting. There are some extra instructions you pick
up when you get outside the womb and succumb to people behaviour.
The automation system that looks after our bodies is incredibly clever, talented
and powerful. It looks after lots of bodily functions. When did you last sit and ask your kidneys to carry out lots of complex chemical filtering? It all happens
without you telling it. A whole lot of things are happening to you right now, and
you are not in control of them – your automation (read robot) is looking after
them. If the automation did not exist, you would simply die, rather quickly; and
that would save any explanations about anything. So this automatic control
system is completely fundamental to life and it’s pretty cool to know about how it makes us do things – lots of things.
People are reasonably happy to accept that the automation controls our bodies.
On the other hand, they hate the idea that their minds are automated in any
significant way. You can hear the robot making you say “I’m running my life, not some robot in my head”. It is almost as if the automation systems that control
the mind don’t want to be interfered with, so they keep us preoccupied in
believing we are somehow in control. It’s like sleep walking and optical illusions.
The mind’s automation is brilliant at taking over control of repetitive benign
tasks, while we ‘waste time’ in living out repetitive fantasies that only exist inside our heads. Fantasies that only matter to our ego’s.
This automatic system takes over our minds in a far more comprehensive and
powerful way than people imagine. We constantly radiate our feelings and
intentions through our body language. For such an important advertising of our wishes, we perceive extremely little of it. For most of the time, we are a robot
carrying a sleeping mind.
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Here now is a tasty question. What is consciousness? It seems to be
independent of the robot that runs us. We can lose consciousness, and still happily function. We can carry out tasks, and have little, even no remembrance
of them.
We have many hundreds of ideas, feelings, sensations, images passing through
our heads each day. There are constant streams running through every single human head every single minute of every single day; that’s a huge amount of
people time across our 5 billion people living fantasies in their heads. Some of
these imaginings we latch on to and keep them obsessively running in front of
our conscious; all while the robot runs the body and the mind (car driving is a
good example where people are thinking of all sorts of things, and the car still
arrives at the destination without consciousness knowing too much about it).
Watch yourself talking! So many times we say things that surprise ourselves.
You do not read the words, and then send them to your mouth. You see them as
they leave your mouth. Who is watching the words? Who is creating the words?
When we open our eyes, we see. When we open our ‘I’, we see who we are and
what is really there. Many of the poems here are about opening ‘I’, and staying
with ‘I’ open. This is awareness, mindfulness.
Another useful understanding of consciousness and how we behave in interacting with each other can be found in transactional analysis. Here we consider that
when people interact with others, they behave as if they have three people in
them. These three people, we call the three ego states:-
1. The Parent ego state.
2. The adult ego state.
3. The child ego state. These three ego states are mostly shaped by the child’s experience. Some
postulate that fixations on child/parent, at the exclusion of the adult as
pathologically unhealthy. On the other hand, most psychologists promote as
very healthy having a child ego state that is free to explore and play in the
world. Transactional analysis is mostly concerned about the interaction of our three
‘people’ (ego states) with someone else’s three ‘people’ (ego states). Examples
are given by considering someone talking to another :-
Parent to child.
Parent to adult. Parent to parent.
and all of the other combinations.
Transactional analysis is about recognising appropriate kinds of conversation, as
well as inappropriate conversations. Eric Berne phrased these interactions as
‘Games People Play’. On a technical note. All three ego states - parent, adult and child – correspond to subsets of Freud’s ego. Freud’s id and superego are not
included in TA.
I much prefer the use of the term 'dancing' when talking about communication.
Dancing is an extremely important concept for me in how we communicate as it
shows how much non verbal activity is involved in communication. A good example is when bees return to the hive, and dance in a pattern to give detailed
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instruction on where new flowers are to be found. The communication is not
words, but the dance. Now, we humans have an internal music. It resides in the
unconscious and comes from the collective subconscious. Our body languages, our feelings, our words, all come from that music. The music contains the
semantic of what we want to do, what we want to communicate. An easy version
of understanding this is watching yourself talk. You do not see the words before
you speak. You see and hear them as they come out of your mouth. Your 'I' sees
them....your 'I' does not make the words.....it observes...like watching a movie. So, most of our involvement with the world is in our dances. We dance with each
other. Different dances depending on who we are talking to and the
circumstances. If we get on with people, our dances synchronise. Watch egrets
courting. No words, a beautiful dance. If we dislike people, our dances are
designed to show it.
Body language in animation, the dance, the music, the dancers. It's how we really communicate.
In our celebration of life, we unfortunately also encounter much tragedy.
The above introduction is common to the sequence of books.
The introduction below is specific to book 2 only.
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Introduction Specific to Book2 of the series.
Should we discuss tragedy and the bad things that do happen in life ?
No, we should not dwell on it or make it our entertainment.
Yes, we should know it, how it occurred and how we can prevent it.
My life has had such profound joys and beauty, that part of me says it is only natural that life should also have had the dark side in all of its menace...........
and so the menace came.
Go to the index of poems, or read the background story below.
I have to talk a little about me; which I actually like doing as I like me. This
character who is me, you need to know a little about to help understand the poems a bit more. It’s me, I’m the prologue
In fact, it would make me happy if you like you even more than I like me
As a child, we were the generation after the 2nd world war, where there was so much talked about who was killed and who was injured and who never came
back and the horrible looks on some of the adult faces I knew. There were vivid
war documentaries in all their perverted rotting anatomical gore that we children
saw again and again on the new media of TV. There were war films combining
tragedy and heroism. Then, there was the spectre of the end of the world.
Unstable and unprecedented detente between the nuclear war machines. Nobody trusted anybody on a world stage. So after seeing the horrors of the
authoritarian based holocaust, we were thrust into the possibility of a nuclear
holocaust follow up.
As children, we learned survival very seriously in the expectation that these
skills would be necessary somewhere in our adolescent to adult lives. It was also a world that had bad people, where there were always going to be casualties.
My father tasted, and was troubled by the wars. He was a great practical
socialist. When I was just a small child he was always helping people. He cut the
hair of many of the children and their father’s from our village for free. He wasn’t trained, and made a pretty good job of making us all look like we had
sandpaper on our heads. It was healthy they used to tell us, and low
maintenance.
Medicine was funny stuff. Getting laughing gas to get teeth pulled out was as
normal as getting a spoonful of raw sulphur mixed with treacle to eat to cleanse
your system; or being held down screaming while a boiling hot bread and milk poultice was applied to a boil on your neck.
We were poor people; from the country. Going to local dumps and bringing
home treasures that other people had thrown out as junk was a great treat for
us. My father and uncles worked for the electricity authorities and they brought
me enough electromechanical junk to keep me happy for a lifetime. I also had big jars of mercury which we loved to play with – so maybe there is some
madness in me from that.
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Growing up was fun and always seemed to involve lots of work. All through my
life from childhood onwards I’ve always done lots of work. Delivering milk,
gutting chickens, repairing roads, digging vegetable gardens, tending the orchard, wiring houses, stealing lead out of old buildings and melting it for
fishing weights, helping with cooking and cleaning – preparing a new coal fire
and splitting wood was a daily favourite. You had to prepare the fire early in the
morning having let it burn itself out during the night time.....the list just goes on
and on. Along with all of this, I always had involvement with looking after others; mostly
children and not much with the elderly and infirm. I especially loved feeding my
younger twin sisters as I could eat some of the rusks myself. My aunt Kay had
me looking after her baby David who had dreadful eczema at birth. Kay’s house
was in the country and huge. I used to make a warm room with a coal fire and
prepare a big baby basin and bath him; treating his wounded skin after the bathing with all the gentleness as if it were mine. Three eloquent, educated and
civilised ladies living in a big detached country house; and I was the little man of
the house.
While still at school, the YMCA made good use of me as an assistant manager. It
really meant I got lumbered with lots of cleaning up and organising jobs, including counting the takings for the cafe. I was even entrusted with setting the
alarm and locking up at night.
At University it was just heaven – books and books and books and clever people
who knew lots and lots. Laboratories, equipment , computers and some
wonderful people. I was a poor person so I wasn’t one of those drinking and pub students, in fact I was on a full grant and sent some money home to my
widowed mum.
First thing after University – missiles; working on highly technical electronics. I
missed working with and helping people, so I moved to Manchester and worked
in hi tech during the day and with the Salvation Army at night with inner city
children. I lived in a disused rectory- All Souls Rectory, Every Street, Ancoats, Manchester, England. The Salvation Army are poor so I used my own money to
fund a lot of the activities for the children.
I got married to a beautiful young woman who had seen me working with
children and preaching in the Albert Hall. Trouble was I loved too many people,
and I overstepped a boundary and broke the trust and the marriage. A beautiful little boy came out of it who I looked after lots. I often felt that I should have
been a househusband or person who just looks after children. Like
Dostoyevsky’s idiot, I got on wonderfully with children and young people. I got
on ok with some adults, but too many adults are very ugly in their hearts and
it’s not my job to fix them. So, there are lots of adults I just avoid simply because they are not my responsibility to fix.
Children are born innocent, and it’s the adults around them who make them nice
or ugly or even dark. I use dark as a polite way of saying evil.
Some children keep that happy adult all the way through life. If they are lucky,
they meet others like them. If not, they are easily isolated and bullied and broken – just the same as children are.
I spent a few years accelerating my career and doing substantial global travel. It
teaches you mainly one thing – there are hotels, restaurants, cars and idiots
everywhere. Humans live on different layers of invisible onion skins covering the
world. You mainly meet the same kind of people on the same onion skin layer
irrespective of your geography.
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Yes, back to the story. I got married again to another beautiful young tomboy
woman. She ordered me to marry her, so I did. Now a dance started that had
too many musicians and a bad score and I was too stupid to read what the new recipe book really looked like. I lived in hope. She lived with quite a different
picture.
Before marrying my second wife, she behaved wonderfully to my little boy. She
was full of joy and outgoing. She was awfully proud to have married ‘Indiana Jones’ as my archetype probably looked like. On my part, I was delighted with a
beautiful girl so full of happiness and we had a brilliant sex life.
However, she was immediately on a war footing. Although my little boy lived
with his mother and stayed with us each weekend, my new wife did not want
him in HER house.
My new wife wanted the money paid each month to my ex wife to stop. The anger boiled up and up and it became rather stupid. She would avoid us at the
weekend and refused to go on any holidays with him being present. As I
travelled on business lots this became a logistical problem of booking nurseries
and childminders in advance all over the country and one time abroad.
When we had first gotten married, my wife had not wanted children. She now
desperately wanted children because her mother waxed lyrical about her sister’s
children; wanting children because of sibling rivalry isn’t a good idea. We talked
over numerous times that she had never wanted children, and even hated the
stepson she had. She reasoned she would be different after having her own children and would be a super mum.
Now, if you watch movies, read books and know a bit about families, it’s possible
at this point that you have now spotted the fool, the fiend and the plot ?
So, here was a high empathy man, with a low empathy woman and children and the woman wanting to be the mum. She liked talking to other mum’s and people
admiring the children. As for feeding a child in the middle of the night, cleaning
poo off babies bum, soothing a distressed child and stuff like that, this was a big
problem to her. House before children was her thinking; children should not be
seen or heard unless it’s for the mum to get compliments.
She had always liked trash TV programs like ‘Big Brother’ and was very
enthusiastic with computer games. A lot of the games were violent. In an
attempt to get away from the violence, I bought her a copy of the Simms. Within
10 minutes she’d figured out how to get two simulated people in a cupboard and burn them to death.
The TV and computer games took priority over the first baby. She would refuse
to feed or attend the baby when it was distressed and needed feeding. I was
working round the clock on various projects and simply looked after the baby and reduced the times on the projects for work. I was pretty ok with this and
suggested she should go to work and I could look after the baby. We’d need to
downsize things. She was furious with that idea and the tension in the household
grew and grew as the income dropped. She got very angry with me and said the
baby didn’t need looking after so much. This was a big problem as she’d slap the
baby for things like not lying still while getting a nappy changed - it got worse and worse.
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She was always pleasant when visitors or other mothers were present. The
minute they were gone, she’d change completely. I’d married Mrs Jekyll and Hyde and the nightmare just got worse.
We talked over things frequently, and she was always changing her mind. I’d
look after the children; no she’d look after the children. No she’d work. No, I’d
work. Changes of mind were frequent and drastic. Also, she was becoming more and more violent and abusive to the children and me.
Eventually I had to report to the health services and social services what was
going on. The social workers out of Chester were nice people. What they
basically said was she was having a hard time and putting her on a parenting
course and also for her to get mental health support with me doing most of the looking after the baby should help improve things. I felt let down. The social
workers said they wouldn’t take further action unless she was a serious threat to
the children’s safety. My wife behaved well when other people outside the family
were present, but got worse to us inside the family.
She went on the course and things were just getting worse. By now I was doing
most of the morning routine with the children and letting her drop them off and
pick them up from school. She got kudos from being seen as the good mum. I
was also doing more than 50% of the evening meals and 50% of the bedtime
routines; she couldn’t cope with the stressful bits.
She used sex as a weapon now. In the morning while I’d be preparing the
breakfasts she’d stick her hands down my pants in the kitchen saying I’d have a
good time if I’d stay at the house with her instead of going to work. Money was
a major problem now and I’d confined myself to mainly doing contract work at a
local University. It felt very tempting and I did stay a couple of times, but I had to go and do some paid work for most of the time. She’d be furious with me
then and became Medusa when I’d get back from the University in time to make
the children dinner.
My wife was frequently bobbing in and out of control. I put huge efforts in to keep her de stressed. In my heart I felt more and more that she was just
abusing all of us. She could behave so nicely in public and then behind closed
doors try to beat the crap out of the children. I was regularly now getting
bruises and fingernail scratches while getting between her and the children.
There were occasions it was like a wrestling match with the children running away to lock themselves in the bathroom. There were some very ugly scenes
that even as I now type as a grown man, I just want to cry.
In 2010 July 23rd she attacked our little boy in the middle of the night because
he wanted a drink of juice. I had to push her away and pull him away from her. She went to the police the next day and reported that I had assaulted her.
If you are a man, and woman with blinking eyes, heaving cleavage and distinct
hemline reports you assaulted her to a policeman, then you are already damned
beyond Hades. You are now in the ‘Shawshank Redemption’ ‘The Green Mile’ –
you are just so lynch mob doomed.
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It took a year to get cleared in High Court of assault. The Judge said she had
unlawfully over chastised our toddler and assaulted me. The police now said they
couldn’t do anything about it because it was longer than six months since the incident.
In that year, I was on bail not to go near my house where my children were with
a violent abusive mother.
Social services were still involved, but changed to a different department. Now,
having been falsely damned to hell by the police, I was about to taste real nasty
abuse on a level I only ever saw and read about in the Holocaust. The SS were
here. There is no difference between social engineering by the Nazis and social
engineering by English social services. You have to experience this to understand
it. My children and I have.
At this point I have to stop and give you a warning. Never under any
circumstances talk or let social workers into your life. I know of no other greater
abuse you can receive from a government authority
In August 2010 I had my first meeting with the new social workers at their
offices. My first concern in sitting down in the meeting room was it was full of
posters about how evil and bad and nasty and vicious and vile men were. These
people did not like men. ALL domestic violence and ALL bad things were
traceable to men according to these people. I was so fascinated that later I took other people to see these posters and also took some photographs.
These people re wrote history. They wrote reports saying what a dreadful man I
was attacking the wife and the children. They told the children to their faces
they were liars for saying mummy hit them. These were very nasty people who
were too happy to sacrifice the well being of my children to bag another of their enemy (me=man).
Not only did they re write history, they hid the previous history.
I tried to reason with these people asking for honesty and transparency. They
refused bluntly. They wrote bizarre lies in reports.
36 Court cases later and probably over £500,000 to the tax payer they were still
writing lies and trying to do bad things to me.
On 28th Feb 2013 they served official imprisonment documents on me. They
were incredibly happy and laughing and smiling and joking as they all went into the high court. One social worker was so happy she skipped into the court. They
thought they were sending a man to prison. A man who , the courts and other
professionals said that loved his children dearly, was an excellent parent, the
children loved him and wanted to live with him.
The social workers thought they were sending me to prison because I had
written poetry about domestic violence and was exposing them.
The social workers were upset when the Judge told them they didn’t have the
power to find people guilty and imprison them. The social workers were nearly in
tears when the Judge asked them to put forward their case and found all were quite false.
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What is it about social workers that makes their minds so warped ?
If you imagine there is a normal spectrum of good people and bad people in a
society, then there is a similar distribution of people in any organisation. When
you give bad people power over others, it is a dreadful situation – repeated
often through history and so ugly in modern times with places like concentration
camps and care homes with extensive abuses.
I was very disturbed and became a bit mentally broken from the stress of all
this; in particular seeing my children abused not only by their mother, but by the
social workers. I got psychiatric help. My psychiatrist on seeing all of the
evidence reassured me that I was not paranoid or mentally ill. It was so strange
that he said I was just disturbed in the same way as the large number of NHS mental health patients ‐ adults and children ‐ who have been left in the
disastrous wake of social services involvement with them.
I quote him ' if it was up to the mental health practitioners, the social services
would be dismantled'.
Social services destroy many families every day. The general public accept it
because they are not allowed to see it. So the general public believe it is
somehow a necessary system based on a few good cases. The public are not
really aware of the monster that social services has become. The is because
social services has a court approved secrecy; they gag their victims.
Compare the few good results of social services with the tragic creation of toxic
psychology injected into the UK by social services :-
1. No of UK children taken into care ~ 40,000/yr.
2. No of distressed toxic people as a result ~ 160,000/yr
3. No of young adults in prison who come from social services putting them in
care homes ~ 50%
4. No of new adults on long term medication and mental health – as a result of
social services actions ~ 80,000/yr
There are so many distressed and abused children, young people and adults.
Why are social services so especially toxic?
The main reasons are :-
1. People with Toxic mentality as part of their psyche are attracted to work in
social services. They want to take revenge on society for something angry in
themselves. It is plain prejudice; no different from the Ku Klux Clan.
2. The psychology demonstrated in the ‘Stanford prison’ experiment shows that people in a position of power, amplify it and will carry out abuses of other people
much too readily. This mixed with the toxicity in social workers is a recipe for
extended abuse across many people.
3. Government secret courts promote abusers to abuse more.
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Why has the government allowed social services to act and force secrecy about
their operation ?
1. If the public knew about how dreadful there results were, then there would be no secrecy allowed.
2. If there was no secrecy, toxic people would not join social services and there
would be almost no employees.
It seems inconceivable to the average person that in a civilised developed country like England we could treat people as badly as Saddam Hussein was
supposed to have in Iraq.
The police, local authorities and social services in England frequently have
behaved atrociously to children and adults. Not only have they callously
destroyed families and ruined mental health and destroyed finances, but they sit
back callously and watch it ongoing like some kind of entertainment. I put all of this here as a request for you to understand how authorities can
grossly abuse people, and, that you should help seek reforms to this dreadful
system.
Normally, most people cave in and just give up. Many commit suicide and many
just walk away from their families. Most children lose all contact with their fathers within 3 years of social services becoming involved with a family. The
government has made it legal to murder people by driving them into suicide.
Practitioners of this include social services and CSA. David Cameron and Nick
Clegg will not tell you that their system of government allows it.
All of this is the real civilisation of England. Destruction of a families and children
carried out quietly and efficiently close to you, without you knowing. I ask the
government to make this country's social services fit for purpose instead of
covering up their crimes. Of all of the social workers, I estimate less than 1 in 4
are decent people. I ask these few to help reform this monster. For all those
offended at my exposure, try fixing the monster instead of complaining about the too many messengers.
Please change your system and make children and adults safe.
My children are very real people and these events are real. Can you imagine there is worse out there?
I have to use a pseudo name as social services and their secret courts will have
me locked up for using my real name. Don’t believe me ? ... Google search on
‘secret family courts’. For now, I am Edmond Dantes, the poet. . Edmond.Dantes.Poet@gmail.com The father to children who social services and
CAFCASS have helped protracted abuse of.
At a later date, you will have the full details.
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Book 2: the damned.
If you have the softcopy, then Click on the poem name below to go to the
poem.
At the poems, click on the poem number to return to its position in the Index.
Item Title Page
1 General Introduction 3
2 Introduction to Book 2
3 Index 9
Abuse & Violence
On Children by their Mother
On Children and adults by Social Workers
Beware of triggering.
DV Note1 Prologue
Poem123 My Little Boy Is Taught To Fear His Mum Again.
Poem124 My Little Boy Is Assaulted By His Mum Again
Poem125 Ken’s Slime In Your Pants
Poem126 Ken’s Triumph.
Poem127 Protecting My Children
Poem128 Don’t Hate The Child
Poem129 How A Toxic Mother Poisons Her Child.
Poem130 SS Only Tick Boxes
Poem131 Abusive Authorities
Poem132 Abusive Authorities 2.
Poem133 A Policeman Assumes
Poem134 Agitated: Should the victim be agitated ?
Poem135 Golf Ball Stories
Poem136 Fear For My Children
Poem137 I Despair Without My Children
Poem138 Callous Cankers Of Mankind
Poem139 Fretting For My Children
Poem140 The Struggle With Suicide
Poem141 The First Judgement
Poem142 The Sentencing
Poem143 Probation The Dirtiest Word I Know
Poem144 The Second Judgement
Poem145 Time To Heal
Poem146 Social Workers Are Paid To Destroy Families
Poem147 Social Workers Are Paid To Destroy Families 2
Poem148 I’m A Social Worker
Poem149 Responsibility Of The SS
Poem150 Lies to the judge.
Poem151 Lies in the court Terror on the ground.
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Poem152 TESCO are better than social services
Poem153 Big Brother Is Watching
Poem154 No Accountability For Evil
Poem155 With My Children
Poem156 It Happened.
Poem157 The Bubble
Poem158 Moral Obligations
Poem159 De Beauvoir’s Legacy
Poem160 R U supporting the SS ?
Poem161 Mother’s Day - Social Services Flavoured
Poem162 The Act Of A Toxic Life Is A Judgement
Poem 163 Now I am Older I realise There Was No Goodness
Poem 164 Striped Pyjamas
Poem 165 Buried alive
Poem 166 Justification
Poem 167 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 168 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 169 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 170 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 171 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 172 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 173 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 174 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 175 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 176 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 177 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 178 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 179 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 180 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 181 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 182 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 183 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 184 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 185 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 186 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 187 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 189 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 190 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 191 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse
Poem 192 Reserved for writing after being imprisoned for trying to protect my children from abuse Newspaper1 How social workers abusively use the term ‘the risk of emotional abuse’ Newspaper2 Too many children taken into social care Newspaper3 Social services took my children
Reserved Reserved for writing in prison after the social services abuse my children even more
Glossary de Beauvoir. CAFCASS CPS Domestic Violence. SS Triggering Transactional Analysis End of Book 1
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Please be aware of triggering reactions.
Prologue.
My psychiatrist reassures me I am not paranoid. He says I am just disturbed in
the same way as the large number of NHS mental health patients ‐ adults and
children ‐ who have been left in the disastrous wake of social services
involvement with them.
I quote him ' if it was up to the mental health practitioners, the social services
would be dismantled'.
Social services and their secret courts forbid me to reveal my real name here.
They do not want you to know of the dreadful and abusive things that they do. They pretend it is because they are protecting the rights of children. History has
too many people who abused and tortured and mutilated others, with convoluted
legal approval as a cover up.
The Nazis did the same in Auschwitz and such places. They were legal in their own time as well. The Nazis all felt aloof about them protecting the future of
their own children.
There are few perfect people, let alone perfect couples let alone perfect families.
It's a pretty big meal over a long time. My wife and I were pretty happy for the first ten years. She was a very pretty tomboy. Full of life and mischief, and a bit
too short fused and physical. When we had children, she was low empathy and I
was high empathy. She wanted to be seen as the primary carer, even though
she didn't like it, and wasn't really good at it. A dreadful rot of stress and
distrust grew fast into the relationship and spilled onto the children. It got to the point there was frequent domestic violence and abuse being dished out by her.
It was complicated, because she apologised lots and always came back loving. It
was a severe “love me hate me” for everyone. I did not recognise it as domestic
violence because nobody told me. I just loved everybody and did my best to
make a very difficult situation work.
It was situation dependant – like everything in life. She almost always managed to avoid her violent and abusive displays in public. Most of the people who lived
in the street who never came to our house, thought everything was ok. Her co-
workers thought everything was ok; because they didn’t aggravate her.
The family is all broken up now and the children and myself seeing psychiatric
help. My ex has had an abusive man move in with her, which is a hellish problem for the children. Social services have been evil; they based everything
on trying to cover up their original errors, and insist she sees the children 50/50,
but it's screwing the children up. That's where we are now, and almost bankrupt
for all the lawyer’s fees. My children don't trust anybody in authority now.
We are all broken and poor.
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Poem123. My little boy is taught to fear his mum.
she made him lie on the carpet
1, 2, 3, 4, .. 12 baby wipes she placed around him
she talks abrupt
as the shoes and trousers come off
her body voice gets angry as she frees the nappy
the toddler starts moaning
and struggles
she grabs his ankles hard
lifting his legs high he now starts crying
and fighting for freedom
she fights with the wipes
fights with the baby
fights with the nappy
and the repulsive warm muck screaming and crying
now slapping
screaming and crying
more slapping
and shouting at him an exhausted supply
of wipes and nappy remain
the tearful red faced child hides
whimpers in the secret cave
behind the television it’s strange
how minutes later
it’s all quieter
but the stalagmites of fear
inside all of us have grown
my daughter calls it the wall
she hides behind a wall
to forget the fear
to forget the pain
to forget the terror side of her mother
our toddler is having a carry on with his sister
they are chasing around the living room
my wife screams at them
the little boy stops his body frozen
fear on his face
and wets himself
yet again
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Poem124. My little boy is assaulted by his mum again.
NSPCC reports more women are violent to children than men.
Smack, smack, smack
'aghhh' , 'aghhhh' 'let go' 'let go'
screaming
'let me go'
smack, smack, smack
'let me go mummy' 'mummy'
'let me go'
screams, crying, smacking, sobbing
the ugly same, yet again
i tried to open the door
she’d braced herself again
a new improved violence
jamming the door closed
nobody can get in to this designer violent room
while she was hitting him
'daddddy' ! 'dadddy' !
'get him' 'get him' screamed my daughter
'get him out' 'get him out'
'FUCK OFF' !
her mother shouted angrily at her
from behind the door while hardly missing her breath
in an effort to keep hitting
her little boy
her daughter screamed, cried
almost as loud as her little brother
smack, smack, smack
'aghh' 'let meeee go'
smack, struggling
'let me go' 'aghhhh' her little boy screamed and screamed
she persisted and persisted
i tried hard to push the door open
'daddy daddy' ! cried my daughter clinging to my arm
crying 'daddy daddy'
as another 'FUCK OFF' !
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blasted out from her mother behind the door
my daughter clung and clung to me shaking, crying, desperate, scared
her body twisted in fear, despair
'daddy' 'daddy, get him out'
this was the second assault this night
now, by her mother into her daughter’s mind
in intense desperation
i tried shouting again
'let him go'
'and come out' 'please' 'let him go' 'please'
smack, smack, aghhh
scream, smack, sob
on and on
our daughter, crying desperately
our little boy screaming, begging
'let go' 'let go' only fuelled
intense uncontrolled raging anger
a mothers hatred
was slapping, slapping
every hit cutting all of us
on, and on
you shake
your mind races
eyes crying, stinging
your ability to act thwarted
eventually, you could hear
sobbing from another part of that room
whimpering, crying, panting no more slapping
she had let her own child go
this violence ends for now
in sore, sweaty, cold silence without comfort
just fear
the door opened abruptly
that familiar angry face
forcefully pushed passed us and away down the stairs
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i quickly grabbed him
cuddled his reddened body into me the sweat wet head
soaked my shirt
the red terrified eyes
his arms just hanging limp
beaten, defeated
we clung together
too dazed to ,move off the bed
shhhh.....shhhhh.....shhhhh
all you can say as we rocked together
'shhhhh'....... 'shhhhhhh' 'shhhhh'
Poems125. Ken’s slime In Your Pants.
This is a poem about a nasty predatory man who lived next door to a recently
single vulnerable mother with children. He worked his way into their house and
lives and took over He now runs her life at the terrible expense of the children.
It is based on true incidents. Mr666 and people like him are out there now. When I discussed this man with a psychologist, I was told ‘it’s not illegal being
voyeuristic and ambitious’. So, I’ll avoid this psychologist babysitting for me.
Ken’s slime in your pants
in your pockets in your children's mind
hi, he said, i'm Ken
i stalk women
i work on trains and get to bully people that’s my job, to bully people
mummy, mummy
that man
is looking through the curtain at us
'just ignore him dear'
Mummy, mummy
he's looked through the curtains
and seen you naked
'oh ! close the curtains dear' 'he's a pervert
Mummy, mummy
can we play in the garden
'no' 'he's peeking through the curtains again'
Ken’s slime in your pants
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in your pockets
in your children's mind
mummy, mummy
why are you letting him through the back door at night
'i'm talking to him dear'
mummy, mummy why is he in your bedroom making noises
‘it's just us talking dear'
mummy, mummy
why are you keeping a knife at the side of your bed while he’s here
'oh ! it's just for cutting vegetables dear'...
mummy, mummy
he shouted and shouted and shouted angrily at me
i was scared and you didn't protect me
'it's all right dear he’s just a bit strict'
mummy, mummy
i'm scared of him
'it's all right dear i'm finishing with him soon'
cafcass, cafcass, help me guardian
i'll cut my throat if Ken comes near me
Ken is at the house, i'm scared, I'll cut my throat to escape
Ken’s slime in your pants
in your pockets in your children's mind
Poem126. Ken’s Triumph.
he peeked through curtains
the children on the streets
disliked him
he told his neighbours he stalked women
bullied people at work
he'd show them
new opportunity the mother next door
easy prey her husband away for a year
and she's distressed
be polite, offer help, small talk, good grooming any excuse, into her house, through the back door
yes ! nights triumph, take control now
got the sex, now get the house, take control
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children nuisance, give them some terror
shout, scream, mum's defence, go easy, make friends
now his relatives visit, hasn't he done well
he has a pretty woman,
who lies that she was abused
and he has rescued her
‘you are wonderful Ken’ they ignorantly say
game, sex and match
free sex, free house, relatives impressed
Ken and Barbie
and she does anything he wants
because she needs someone who backs her up,
and he can make a hero
from his previous scumly image
Poems127. Protecting My Children
Having to prepare documents for the court tomorrow. It again has triggered the
stress as well as the big machine in my head. The big machine helps with any deep problem or puzzle. I used to do it lots for physics and philosophy. Working
in combination with the stress trauma, it sets me with a nervous disposition.
This is the complex post traumatic stress disorder. Today it's kind of in control in
a holding position.
justification, justification
always
justification
ramification of their power
over my children over me
deceitful social services
incompetent police
horrible lawyers
their version
not my children's not the witnesses
not the criminal courts
not my version
not reality
just their fantasy all the kosher words for the court
their club, they all know each other
their version, to meet lawyers needs
to meet the needs of money
my brain fire my nerves
cPTSDSD
my hellish prison
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my fire
but i need to swim
these deadly waters seeking safety
for my children.
my big friend
from the dark place
the subconscious, boiling, trawling, analysing, constructing almost a dance with annihilation
i know it's power
i like it's power, the monster from the deep collective
so many times it helps
but now there is a price
my nerves respond badly the pain, the fear, the memories of helplessness
of sickening abuse of my children, it's not over
the bad people are still here
cPTSD they call it, i call it hell.....
swim, in burning, swim for my children
Poem128. Don't hate the children.
we all carry a child in us
too many people hate, or dislike, or don't care
for their own child, the one inside of them
John Lennon sang crippled inside every time we hate, or dislike, or screw over ourselves
or somebody else
we're screwing over the child in us, the child in them
trouble is that's what we're mostly taught as a species it's toxic and carries
what if everybody truly loved themselves
and just wanted to be happy and share happiness ?
imagine, John Lennon
Poems129. How A Toxic Mother Poisons Her Child.
one of the saddest things i ever saw
was while on a bus in Oldham
it was a scorching hot day,
most people, close to naked as the bus pulled up
there was a standing bundle
of tatty dark clothes
a person fully hidden
in trousers and a duffle coat
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hood over the head
fully covering and hiding the face
as she got on, i glimpsed her hiding face badly disfigured
gnarled like a witch and covered in warts
this terrified being found herself a quiet seat
making sure she was hidden for a hardened man
my heart bled and stabbed
as I nearly burst into tears
why on this our earth so tortured
so humiliated so disgusted self image
such a dreadful life, that dreadful painful self image allowed and maintained by people around her
life's a bitch
i'm not entertaining this behaviour for me
or anyone near me, so utterly sad
and yet my own daughter
her dreadful self image, created by her mother
so many times told her own daughter
that SHE was to blame
to blame for spoiling the marriage and she should never have been born
only an hour later she'd tell her she loved her
along with the violence, it really screwed up
my daughters head
toxic in her mother, toxic in my child
my daughter wanted to cut her own throat
she'd had made mummy so unhappy
Poem130. SS Only Tick Boxes; They Don’t Care.
social services SS
got involved my family my wife's violence only occurred
at high stress times
a three event day, morning prep, evening meal, going to bed
SS only visited just after school
that’s their working hours looking for sunlight at midnight
looking for snow in summer
I asked why
They said “not our office hours”
this is the insanity that runs our planet
through human authorities.
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Poems131. Abusive Authorities.
Nelson Mandela
Edmond Dantes
so many names stories and reality
have fought injustice
against overwhelming odds
the stories seem plausible fantasy
and yet the structure of authority is extremely geared to abuse
anyone on the wrong side of it
the second you enter abuse
it escalates each authority reinforces the other
and if you try to complain
these authorities
police, social services, probation, courts, lawyers
are refined machines at defending themselves
against anything you say they get practice at defending themselves
every single day
and they have lots of people, lots of money, lots of time
and lots of practice
whatever you say or do they have been there before
and they have counter claims
and defences to abuse you further
fear them
Poems132. Abusive Authorities 2.
like attracts like you say
good people attract good people
musicians begat musicians doctors begat doctors
and bad attracts bad
looking for power ?
want to get one over on other people ? want revenge ?
just dislike people ?
you need an authoritarian job
like police or social worker
legalised abuse of others
lawyers trust these abusers
judges are obliged to trust these abusers
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these abusers
in the biggest gang in the country
‘cover up’ ’cover up’
the public squeal like pigs
and do no real good
the gang and it’s privileged members continue their abusive sport
Poem133. A Policeman Assumes - & Hell’s Gates Opens
after the police
have mentally abused your children
after the police
have made you mentally ill
after the police have destroyed your family
after the police
have destroyed your family finances
after the police
have destroyed your company business and after
after you put in complaints
nobody is interested
not the policeman who falsely reported
not the desk sergeant who behaved stupid not the cps who got it all wrong
not the Chief Constable with his shiny buttons
they all keep their heads down
and avoid everything they hope you will die with the stress
or go bankrupt
or commit suicide, like many others have
or they can keep it going forever
because power, money and time are all on their side
these are the people in charge of you
these are the people in charge of your children
fear these people
and you
the reader
you pay for them
you allow them
to do this because you
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are not interested
the police report said we assumed
he was being malicious
because we arrested him
so, we did not believe him
that the children were being assaulted and abused
by their mother
because we assumed
police professional standards said
the officer had behaved professionally because he had assumed
Poem134. Agitated: should a victim be agitated ?
the policeman said i was agitated
he implied by this that i was somehow at fault
it seemed his boss
a more senior policeman that this implied i was at fault
it seemed to the police professional standards
that this implied i was at fault
it seemed to the prosecution lawyer
that this implied i was at fault
although, to be fair
and this is my experience to date
to all prosecution lawyers, and to all policemen
you the accused, are guilty until proven innocent
my opinion is that never trust a policeman to talk to
he has a quota of arrests to make
and you are fair game to him
and my experience is that
police are hugely dishonest and those not dishonest
are pretty low IQ
and if you are a man
and a woman tells obvious lies about you
you will be prosecuted and damned to hell
long before you see a court these are my findings
after many exchanges
and after prolonged abuse
of my children and me
by the police in England
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so, if you have been wrongfully arrested
your children abused
and made mentally unwell your mental health ruined
and left you on medication with psychological help
your family destroyed
by the police and social services
your family finances destroyed your family company destroyed
and then in the court
the Judge
she said he was agitated
the one who had his family and business destroyed she said he was agitated
and he, the agitated one
had put on a bad show
his assailant, who destroyed his family
who destroyed his business the Judge said she presented herself well
the Judge believes if your agitated
you are the one doing wrong
so if you go to a court or are stopped by police
then you must not in any way be agitated
for this means you are somehow
guilty and wrong
Poem136. Fear For My Children.
gasping, drowning my head
searing and twitching my body
FEAR every time my children are not with me
31 million seconds of fear
and counting
now mentally ill
my children suffering, suffering
abused by their own mother
and her abusive boyfriend
both helped by social services
and it’s still not finished
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Poems137. I Despair without my children.
the children are not here
no, not here
they are somewhere doing something
there's possibly somebody
not being nice
possibly somebody hurting them
i'm not there
with them
not protecting them
how can i be here
on my own
my heart missing beats
the chest pains
the house a mess my mind muddled
painful dulled thoughts
in dirty unclear water
except the clear pain of their pain
their violation
their abuse
where are they now
how can i be here
i don't want this life
without them
it's a foul mess
life without them what on earth
can i do without my children
how can i be here
without my children my face flushing
my sore heart
and chest pains
stupid police put children in
with a violent abusive mother
and stop anybody protecting them
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allowing bloody violence
terrorising bullying
abuse
to be flaunted
by the mentally distressed mother
children screaming
children hurt
while police stop you protecting them
that's the police
how can I be here there's no children here
how can I protect them
what to do
another wave through my head
more chest pains
a never ending torrent
of fear, abuse, crying
my body is on fire
sweating, sweating, sweating get up walk around
how can i be here
my children aren't here
Poem138. Callous Cankers Of Mankind.
back downstairs
for a few minutes respite
a difficult night
yet again
heart destroying stress
coming from my daughter's anguish and knock on effects
on my little boy
she sobbed
she whimpered she hoarsely begged to be saved
she rocked and cried and fretted on the floor
she scraped the flesh
off her already bleeding hands
she wheezed and chocked in her desperation
this is what you created
oh liars in authorities
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police, social services, cafcass, lawyers
and you, the chief of police
and you, the chief of the council and you the judges
you let a child be terrorised
and abused
again, and again, and again
you let it go on and on you callous cankers on mankind
and all her tears
and all her sobs
and all the detriment in her mind
her souls crucifixion are the toxic food
for you callous cankers in authorities
PLEASE
decent people stop this
look on
know the rotting state
where children are legally abused
it is your state it is your country
paid for by your money
and you, yes you
let them do this
to children's souls
and so i will return
to look at my children
and my heart will cry for them
my mind will burn
dear God protect these children
Note. My daughter suffered fits because she was terrified. During these fits she
often scraped her own flesh until it bled. She suffered psoriasis on her hands and
used to rip patches of flesh off during the fits.
Poems139. Fretting for my Children.
fretting
because of the
unknown violations
of my absent children is the worst
life can do to me
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God is somewhere
but i am hypnotised into stasis
into that dreadful darkness
that dreadful darkness has reasons
and i am without sleep without any comfort
Poem140. The Struggle with Suicide.
More people have committed suicide than have ever been killed in all of the wars
in history. More men commit suicide than women by a ratio of 4:1. Men are
treated very badly as a species.
enough..
more than enough now
i just want to go home
my inner child so scared
so tired of liars lies
so scared to be in this book so disappointed
so disappointed with humans
too too many bad humans
a nasty dreadful species
violent, selfish manipulative liars
so so few who care
so so many who hate
i just want to go home it’s not nice here
on this planet
with all of them
there is nothing to stay for
just to go home please that’s all I want
away from these
horrid horrid things
the tears make me mortal
and remind me of this body
it’s not the dying that’s important
it’s the escape
dying we do anyway
just not at the right moment
the meal of life is putrid
not by the few
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but the many
and those in authority
with power to torture and abuse my children
the power to hang me up
fretting and fearful
my mind races and feels their pain
and the pain grows in me
for if i leave
i leave my children
to them
and their evil ways i want to scream vomiting
i cannot leave the children
alone with these evil people
escape is gone
i was here for a reason
to exist as a witness
for the universe
to test life and judge it
my God seems so far away now
and in his time
he had to punish
and limit his creation
his disappointing species
i turn towards my God
and see me distressed
in front of him
and i am ashamed
i am not finished
as I breath, i am with him
a new existence
a second wind.
there’s a comfort but he’s not letting me go home
it’s not right
or necessary
the anger at my children’s abusers is not needed
my inner child’s fear
is not needed.
action, perseverance
to go on and help my children
is needed
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so, here I am
and all I'm asking out of this life
is my children's safety and well being i know that i need to do more
the struggle for them is not over.
so, i keep looking at the sky
and breathing in this body
and working for my children
Poem141. The First Judgement.
Having been falsely accused of assault by my wife to cover up her own assault of
our 3yr old it takes 8 months to get to a magistrates court. Magistrate’s courts
are known to be conviction crazy. They get scolded for not convicting. To make
matters worse, the CPS stop almost all of the evidence in domestic violence cases to increase their conviction chances. I met a barrister who left CPS as she
was sickened by the number of innocent people wrongly convicted. Social
services used the courts to force that I could not put my ex wife’s name in or my
name. They say that it’s so the children cannot see the truth about their abusive
mum. That’s a very strange thing since the children were the abused victims. I
use mum and dad. Anyway, here is my story unfolding.
We sat around
anxious
surely the judge
the judge was sensible
it was clear
my children
were being hurt she was violent
abusive
unceasing abuse
the lawyers talked
to each other daily business
for them
no big deal
who lost
'court rises' !
i stand up and look
my oldest son
red faced
painful memories the violence
of his own abuse
of his younger siblings abuse
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his anger and despair so clear
‘it is clear that mum has been abusive
and violent
to her family’
‘it is clear that mum has attacked her child’
‘it is clear that dad
has gone to the rescue of the child’
‘it is clear that mum has substantially assaulted dad’
However !
‘i feel that dad has over retaliated in his defence of the child’
‘i find dad guilty of assault
and because the child is present
and the law requires this is more serious and the finding is
aggravated assault’
i just stared at the judge
sorry !
what !
my oldest son
white and shocked
his body sickened
i felt so sorry for him
a long time victim
of my wife’s abuse
his psychologists
knew of her and here he was
seeing her getting off again
abuse and violence of children
accepted by a Judge in England
where a woman
can beat and bloody
and abuse her children
the judge says
you can't stop her
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i just stared at the judge
(next see,the sentence, probation, The Second Judgement )
Poem142. The Sentencing.
i took my sleeping tablet
the night before
and my medication in the morning the isolation from my children
and my incessant worries for them
had broken some of my mind
sitting in the court waiting area with life's lost and colourful souls
my appeal is in
but until the appeal case
i have to be sentenced
the victim victimised
probation assessed me
said they were clever people
mostly graduates
psychologists
i thought they were abrupt bossy, arrogant
but hoped it would be good
to talk to them
2 minutes before the courtroom i get probation's report
WHAT !
i'm only short of a mass murder
is this my report ?
my lawyer says don't argue
it's not bad compared to some
in the courtroom
30 or so senior school children
and Pontius pilot and his team and I'm led to a big glass cage
a hundred staring eyes
judging, judging, judging
there is nowhere to hide
full humiliation i wished i had more tablets
maybe the full bottle
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the judge relays the story
the children listen
eyes staring at me you can see some of the children
disturbed
why is he here for protecting his children ?
but the judge just acts his part
a course on domestic violence
a course of C.B.T.
the horror bites and gnarls my guts......
i've to be Alex, clockwork orange Alex
they’re going to screw my brain
even more than they have already
how much more can you victimise the victim
i tried to console myself
at least they can't kill you
oh, but they are
God has deserted me
Poem143. Probation ; the dirtiest word i have ever known.... ..
probation
Stalinist activities
alive and well in England
they accused Saddam Hussein
of a dreadful, unjust, regime
and yet that behaviour
is alive and horrible as an evil creature
in our own country
probation
look at what they do
when nobody cares about you what they do in their dark places
probation, your worst nightmare
i met them again after sentencing
i asked why they had written so many lies about me
they said 'that's what we do'
and pointed to the paper title
MINISTRY OF JUSTICE FACT SHEET they had headed paper
and wrote lies about people on it
they thought because of this header
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whatever they wrote
was a FACT
these are magical bits of paper if you could write something on them
it would automatically be true
they told me they would change me
brainwash me make me better
and my ex wife
would be involved
in deciding how well i'd changed
how many times in my life must i be stupefied
i asked how this worked
that the person assaulting my children
and assaulting me was qualified
to brainwash me
they said i must sign the consent form
or there'd be trouble i was already suicidal
and my children being abused
i thought they were funny
kind of Monty Python thing
beyond absurd
every meeting
i wrote up and copied to them and my lawyer
they got very angry about that
after months they said
a gross miscarriage of justice has taken place
and treated me better
Poem144. The Second Judgement.
don't get your hopes up
too much my barristers said
domestic violence cases
are loaded against men
i just want the truth why can't there be cctv everywhere
i said
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this time
there was no cps idiot
winking and nodding at the judge this was a high court
a serious court
magistrates are known
to convict too easily
and especially with a nodding and winking cps
if they don't convict
they get reprimanded
the statistics show it clearly
however this is a serious court
no half wit evidence allowed here
and no easy lies
PC 666 said my wife had a golf ball sized lump on her head
nobody saw it
no doctors
no children
no photographs even my wife
said there was no such thing
in both courts
in the magistrates court
this imaginary golf ball was the cause of the conviction
the magistrate had to recognise
the imaginary golf ball
that my wife said never existed
but the cps said policemen don't lie
in this high court
there were three on the bench
one serious judge two serious magistrates
serious judges i'm told
hard judges i'm told
'all stand' the summing
‘we are satisfied that :
mum was violent to her family
mum was assaulting her child
dad went to the rescue of the child mum substantially assaulted dad
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dad removed himself and the child into safety
NOT GUILTY’
my life could start again
the phone rang one hour later
probation
congratulated me and destroyed my records
police
could not arrest my wife
on a technicality
they had waited too long for this trial
so even though guilty
in the Judges eyes
the police bungled
not only to arrest her but had allowed her
to victimise the victims
Poem145. Time to heal...
i'm broken
shot below the water line
wires pulled from the processor neurons distorted
Dave Bowman: Hello, HAL. Do you read me, HAL?
HAL: Affirmative, Dave. I read you.
Dave Bowman: Open the pod bay doors, HAL. HAL: I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that.
Dave Bowman: What's the problem?
HAL: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Dave Bowman: What are you talking about, HAL?
HAL: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
i’m still broken doctor
and she agreed
more pills
more psychologists
but she couldn’t remove the cause
it’s quite amusing
when your body suffers
adrenalin malfunctions in great bursts
making jerking hands
and desperate sweating
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waves of anguish
all in this shell, my body
my minds broken
only bits of it
Poem146. Social Workers are paid to destroy Families .
Tony Blair
doubled the target
for social services to take children into care
he paid local government
more money
if they took more children into care
meet their breaking up of families targets
they get more money
doesn't matter
about who you damage
the children the family
it doesn't matter
what lies you tell
the courts are secret
the lies are safe
social workers
meet your targets
lie, cheat, abuse
get your targets get your money
Poems147. Social Workers are paid to destroy Families 2 .
sitting round the table
her manager not here yet
the team were anxious
there were job cuts looming she had just moved
new house
new car
her kids
new clothes new toys
new friends
these are important
the door opens and he sits
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opens his brief
looks that managerial serious way
' you all know'
' we were told our targets'
' in January'
' and'
' you are down on targets'
' well, we can save your jobs'
' you will need to work harder'
' get more children in care'
' its not rocket science' ' and it's easy'
' we have money'
' they have none'
' we have time'
' they have none' ' we have a big team'
' they have non'
' we have been trained'
' they have not'
' we have experience' ' they are in shock'
' we're not scared of them'
' they fear us'
' we can silence them'
' they do what we tell them'
' they have no option' ' like shooting ducks in a barrel'
' you know how to do it’
' there are laws that help you'
' you have the power' ' the courts are in our side'
' these people are sitting ducks'
' as soon as we mark them'
' the public don't believe them'
' they believe us' ' and the courts are secret'
' so you won't be challenged'
' so what are you waiting for?'
' go now’ ' get those children off of them'
she felt relief
her job was safe
her children would be pleased
now she could concentrate on showing her friends
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her new home
all she had to do was take other people's children away
from their families
enough children removed
for any reason
to meet her target and nobody
other than those sad forgotten families
would really be bothered
Poem148 I’m a Social Worker .
this was her first visit
she presented herself well after a few minutes with the children
a request
for a private conversation
‘I have power’
she said
‘I can take your children away from you’
‘you have to do
what I tell you’
she said to me
this smiling assassin was threatening my children
what motivated her to say this ?
and, in this assassins pleasurable way.
i asked her why
‘Why are you threatening the well being of my children’
‘I have not threatened your children’
‘I’m reminding you
of my powers over this situation’
‘that’s all’.
i asked her to leave which she did
very reluctantly.
emails to her boss
and his boss
and all the way to the top
‘Why do your employees threaten people’ ?
nobody replied
they don’t like
recorded conversations they don’t like
transparency
they don’t like
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people seeing
their abusive powers
Poem149. Responsibility of the SS.
war makers have plans
not because they are nice sensibility requires
to clean up the mess
to make good
to prevent the return
to the warring needs Germany and Japan
are good examples
so a war on society
a war against child abuse must have a plan
a social war plan
not just to beat up
not just to disarm
not just to impoverish
not just to create despair but to clean up
to clean up
to repair
to make good
and yet
so many suicides
so many depressed
so many homeless so many angry
so many poor
despair
created by the SS
social services
society war machine
it's important to clean up
the mess of a war
why is it acceptable
for social services
to not clean up after them
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to not repair the despair
to not repair the anger
to not repair the poverty that they create
just imagine
everybody could win win/win
imagine people liking SS
working with them
but SS don't want that
they like being hated thrive on it
promoting it
a closed dark community
the SS
Fear them.
Poem150. Lies to the judge.
after the judge
we sat in a small room
summoned by SS and CAFCASS
“you will tell your daughter this” and handed me a script
‘it’s not the truth’ i said
‘and my daughter knows it’s not the truth’
“you will tell her this anyway”
staring at them in disbelief now comes too naturally
‘I will not lie to my daughter’
‘I will not let her down and tell your lies’
‘you are asking me to lie to her’
“if you don’t do this”
“you are breaking our plan”
and that’s what they reported
that I had broken their plan no mention of lies
just another uncooperative parent
put on paper as being bad
and that’s how they ‘win’
and that’s what they propagate
you are always the bad person
if you don’t tell their lies
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Poem151. Lies In Court Terror On The Ground.
in court
as usual
the SS social workers lied to the judge
saying children come first so the judge trusted them
and gave my children to them
away from the judge
the vile SS close in on you
and order you to this and that all under threats
my phone rings
i cannot talk to my own distressed child by SS
my daughter in court was presented as very concerned to know her dad is safe
when she is not with me
and SS used that as positive leverage in court
and out of court, they use it negatively
SS will not let me talk to her i can feel her distress
i find later that
SS tried to bully the childminder
ordering her on the phone to do things
that would have upset the children more
and later in that cold dark night
when my daughter finally saw the SS
she screamed and fled into the house crying, sobbing , hiding in her room
but the SS had her gagged now
the trusting Judge
only gets the sanitary version
Poem152. TESCO are better than social services.
extremely knowledgeable
in the practice of being hated
social workers
have years of practice
to null their critics
make critics vanish punish the critics
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and huge resources, to do this
social services a few are good people
many are toxic people
too many toxic people
for toxic people are drawn into them
and now they have absurd rules
that the good people make good of
that the Toxic people make more Toxin with
an evil monster
running on absurd rules rules containing absurdity
no reality, just box ticking
and a culture of blaming others
no accountability
of satisfied customers to report not even as good as TESCO
who run on satisfied customers
yes ! look at Tesco
the checkout staff
the shelf packers more talented than social workers !
because
they create satisfied customers
the only thing
social services have in abundance
is power, money, time
to null their critics
what social workers fear is the truth
they fear honesty and transparency
David Cameron
so scared to publish the customer satisfaction results
for social services
they are so bad
so David Cameron try to be a decent human
protect our children
put TESCO in charge of social services
give children safety and satisfaction
give families help and satisfaction
stop child abuse stop family abuse
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Poem153. Big Brother Is Watching.
i just received
an email
from local government lawyers
they have sent me a copy of around 30 pages
badly printed to PDF
of FaceBook pages
copied from my postings
public and private
these lawyers
are sending them to "experts"
to see what they make of me
for me
it’s all quite endearing that they
have so much interest in me
especially
when so many are poor
and so many are dying in hospitals and the elderly have no comfort
and children are being abused
that’s your government
the half wits
you voted for them
Poem154. No Accountability for Evil.
Hillsborough
a massive police cover up
lies by the authorities
to abuse the people
they are paid to protect
and yet
Social Services
with no public accountability
legalised secrecy
much more secrecy and immunity than the police even
these are EVIL people
given an open license to be evil
even those starting innocent become corrupted by egotistical power
corrupted by that freedom from rebuke or chastisement
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power mad
destroying who they dislike
the courts and mercenary pseudo experts
their weapons of destruction
and YOU
YOU reading this YOU are paying for them
with your taxes
YOU are empowering them
to destroy families
and abuse children
YOU
are helping the evil bullies
satisfy their thirst
and should YOU believe me ? research is easy
so much evil
has caused leaks
even in public newspapers
and politicians campaigns just look, and see
the evil to children and families
that YOU can stop
Poems155. With My Children
and here am 'I'
4 children and 2 are mine
so happy
dancing with them
watching them
dancing
sharing music sharing love
sharing optimism
sharing wonderment
sharing joy
sharing understanding sharing
life
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Poem156. It Happened.
i never asked for a life
but i got one
i never asked for problems for my children but i got them
so, i'm alive
and my job is to do the best for my children
for as long as i shall be permitted live
Poem157. The Bubble.
lying quietly in the dark
a little body breathes
quietly to the left
a bigger body breathes quietly to the right
my two children
safe
comfortably asleep for this time
this little time
inside this bubble
outside this bubble
a creepy war their mum
their abusive violent mum
'me time' her priority
'me me me' her priority
her dreadful abusive boyfriend boasting of his perversions
grooming my daughter
negligent social workers
forcing daughter to mother
low IQ police a prejudiced world
outside the bubble
outside the bubble
bullying accidents
disease
ignorance
selfishness
abusers
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violence
hatred
pornography outside the bubble
my life's priority
expanding the bubble
extending it carrying it with them
get more guards
get more sacred places
help the children
to become guards of the bubble
so hard to be everywhere
protecting
the bubble
the sacred bubble
Poem158. Moral Obligations.
poem by Edmond Dantes 4th Nov 2012
for the court in Chester,where the local authority are desperate to gag me
because I keep asking them to be honest.
it's Sunday night
no children night
i'm humped !
back to concert levels Furtwangler's wartime Beethoven's 9th.
maybe this existence of mine
is a morphed version
of Clockwork Orange
who's abusers are worse ?
mine or Alex ? who is mad ?
abusive social services
madness protected
by cheap laws
from local authorities who will not answer
honest questions.
and tomorrow morning in court
will I be seen as Tom or Alex ?
I live the curse of much too interesting a life
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Poem159. de Beauvoir's legacy....
men become
what women say they want
and women want
what advertising tells them
that's the norm of our culture
women en mass want testosterone men
men with six packs
they want fighting alpha males
distressed broody half wits
narcissistic beauties exciting self indulgent look at me ! screamers
sex mad and violent
look at all the adverts
with their psychological messages
and then
when it all goes wrong
they are angry about what they got
at the wolf who lies
and cheats and beats
if you want men to change
you must tell them
en mass tell men what you want
you change the women
and the men follow
and note
it doesn't hold for all for there are those
already innocent
already empathetic
already eccentric
already fulfilled
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Poem160. R U supporting the SS ? .
saving children
and creating utopia
by social cleansing
purifying our race by taking children off bad mothers
by breaking up bad families
throwing out bad dad’s
is so easy to justify
it seems so correct so sensible
for decent people like us
but who does this job
what kind of people are these who are all powerful
and wise and clever
and can see who is bad and who is good
and handle great power
with great continued decency and wisdom
we were warned
by too many times in history
that the Hitler’s have good intentions
but not if your skin is wrong
but not if your beliefs are wrong or simply, he just doesn’t like you
history’s single sided utopia
like slavery, or the holocaust
are all single sided events
we were warned
by so many thinkers
like Orwell’s piggy farm
where power corrupts
and all you really achieve
is people in a nasty club that abuses others
they don’t like
so, look around today
where are the power clubs where can you join a club
to abuse people you don’t like
where is there power
to destroy their families
to get revenge on people types you just don’t like ?
the job board says ‘join the ss’
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you get to be judge and jury, over who is good and bad
you get to write reports, that aren’t criticised
you get to be part of a team, who will all lie for each other you get to abuse people you just don’t like
and your team will help, with the difficult ones
so, if you were rejected
or if someone bullied you or someone gave your mum a bad time
or someone gave you a bad time
there’s a special job for you
to get revenge
true psychological fulfilment
yes, the SS is just the job for you
Poem161. Mother’s Day - Social Services Flavoured.
i sit here with sore salty tears
running down my face
my child’s screaming in the headphones and i so so want to vomit
my poor little baby
screaming ‘daddy’ ‘daddy’
and his mother slapping him
again and again
in my war to protect my children
i couldn’t sleep again
and was up sorting out evidence files
on my computer and i so so want to vomit and cry
so so much evidence
of hitting and slapping and marking
and bullying and hating
of children
my two children
over two years the courts and police
have let down my children
evil social workers make evidence
that suits a purpose that is neither truth nor justice nor decent
it is a story concocted
to take revenge
on someone they hate
for a toxic reason in their own heads
i’m a father isolated from his children
by evil social workers
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who simply hate fathers
and write lies and more lies
to make a father look bad to the courts and they know she was cruel
they know the evidence
but they hide it,
and instead make out a story
that never existed
and they don’t care
my children are hurting
they don’t care a bad mother
can abuse them as she likes
all they care about is that somebody type that they hate
is fucked over
so my children scream and bruise
and the social workers hide it in paperwork
so that the police and the judge
see a fable
this is mother’s day and an evil mother has the whip
and social workers let her whip
as hard and as much as she likes
happy mother’s day from social workers
Poem162. The Act of a Toxic life is your own eternal Judgement. .
the very act of existing
of having a life at all
of what you write in your own book
as your life
is your judgement
your very own judgement of yourself it is who you really are
and in this book
you, the evil social worker
have allowed abuses again and again and again
abuses of my precious beautiful little children
things you wouldn’t do
to your own children or your friends children
things you would be so frightened of
if the public could see you
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morally bankrupt
ethically bankrupt evil, hideously evil
charades of self acceptance
to hide the self’s toxicity
i am frozen in the livid handcuffed by tyrants
tortured by their servants
not to protect my crying children
not to comfort their fears
not to remove their terrors
Mr Chief Executive and all downwards
you all sit in your nice homes
looking after your own families
and let other families be abused
by your authority
What has happened here
and is happening still
right this very instant
is the judgement on you as a unique human
what you are doing now
echoes in your eternity
all your toxic doings
cannot but else be shared
through your embodiment through you, your toxic contribution
to the collective subconscious
into your own family
before your body finally rots in maggots just remember ..
- YOU failed
and
as your children finally find their own resting place
just remember - YOU FAILED THEM
A poem elucidating on the callous behaviour of those in authority who create
and/or allow the abuse of others in the authority of their care.
In this case, it's particular as well as in general.
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Poem163. Now I am older, I realise there was no goodness worth doing..
i am so so sorry
that I ever did a good deed
sorry
that I ever helped anybody sorry
that I created so many smiles
sorry
that I held so many hands
sorry i wiped so many tears
sorry
i stopped so many bleeding grazes
sorry
i gave so many words of comfort sorry
i gave food to so many hungry people
sorry
i gave money to distressed people
sorry
i worked so hard and so long sorry
i gave so much of my time for others
i am so sorry
because every act of goodness that i did for others
just helped them
to let my children be abused
it did my children no good
here, in England
the English holocaust is here
in Chester,
Cheshire,
England’s own holocaust
a place where you cannot protect your children
the police lock you up
for protecting your children
and then
the police put your children into harm,
to a mad mother
who had bloodied and bruised them
my terrified 3yr old child
pissed himself at every shout from her but the police locked him up with her
a mad mother
who spat in my daughter’s face
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while banging my daughter’s head off the floor
the police locked my daughter up with her.
the police got it wrong, and laughed in my face
the police couldn’t believe a woman could be bad
the police couldn’t believe a woman could bloody her child
the police couldn’t believe a woman could tell lies
and they laughed at me, and they stopped me protecting my children
stopped my desperate attempts
to rescue my precious beautiful little children.
previously, the social workers knew about her violence
they knew she bruised and screamed and threw about these little children
but all it took
was one lie from this vicious mother
that she now claimed she had been hit by her husband
and the toxic strata from the social workers blew open and the vile hags danced around the cauldron
and rubbed out the previous history
like magma covering truth
and creating a new landscape
where all men are evil
why was i so stupid
why did i give so much effort
how could i have been so blind
and the evil of social services their real behaviour,
not what they write down
but what they really do
you only see when it’s too late
after they’ve gagged and isolated you you’re like a cow
which suddenly sees the nail gun on its face
a social workers job is to destroy
destroy a family destroy it, by picking a side
that side they dislike
there is something toxic in themselves
that they hate so much
they want to destroy others for it and it is mostly men they hate
sibling rivalry, hated dad, hated uncle,
some hate men because pretty girls got the nice boys
so an evil woman gets the prizes of the house
gets the social kudos the opposite of her real self gets the children to poison with her toxicity
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to carry on the evil cycle again and again
assisted by evil social workers with their rubber stamp courts
and self protecting legal systems
to let them off with malice
while fucking up so many lives
so why, why, why
why did i fall for it
why oh why was i so stupid
it was all of us
the super apathetic society kept occupied and entertained by trinkets
while the evil eats it’s victims
quietly, all across society
evil was already throughout the system
like fungus and it’s spores already everywhere
in everybody’s minds and behaviour already
we are all made
to be fucked by them
a perpetual loop of fucking over people
and we are so so busy running in it
we don’t notice how it really works
we can’t see the secret exits
where the slaughtered are taken
by this dreadful machine it programmed me like a battery hen
to work relentlessly feeding it
and then it shits on me
covered in its filthy shit
that’s what social services
and the secret courts
are all about
they are the secret exit
where they shit and shit and shit and brush it away quietly
so the hens can go on working
following what this big social programming machine wants
and the judges aren’t wise, they just repeat
and the social workers are callously trained to repeat they are the ones
who actually like slaughtering
blood and guts and smelly entrails is their love
and that’s their daily diet.
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Poem164. Striped pyjamas.
The Holocaust In Chester, England.
i feel so down despondent
like death has taken all that’s precious
like all the cleaning in the morning after a big party
like the bit just after a close friend has just left
like you've not a friend in the world like when you walk away from that coffin in the new grave
that's what meetings with social services do to you
so much lies so little truth
they have the story ending already before they ever met you
and then they toy with you
destroying you, humiliating you
onwards to your horrid childless prison
you cry, you curl up your children know the truth
but social services keep them gagged
socially reprogramming them
turning them away from dad
and doing their best to paint him with poisen
so hard to believe they can do this so easily
so hard to believe they just gang up
and write old recipes the courts are used to
and tar and brush you for the court with professionals who cannot be challenged fairly
professionals who come back again and again
for easy blood money
my children
being slaughtered fleshy bonds ripped apart
comforting minds pumped with cyclone
and for what?
to keep toxic people employed
toxic people who hate men toxic people who hate fathers
toxic people who hate husbands
toxic people who hate brothers and uncles and cousins
it really is all driven by hate you see them making alliances very quickly
when they first get involved in a family
and so quickly it's easy to see who they hate
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and how they set up traps and roadsigns
its a huge revenge factory where toxic people fuck over others
who remind them of who they don't like
that's all it is
and they cleverly got it disguised
in the cleverest possible way because everybody hates child abuse
so they use that disguise
as they slaghter the thousands of people
that they hate..
i'm just a boy in striped pyjamas and your the boy outside the wire..
This was written after my precious beautiful daughter told me she was the girl
in the striped pyjamas while I was visiting her in a social services contact centre in England.
Poem165. Buried alive – by social services.
yet another coffin
yet another child
yet another parent yet another sibling
they bury you alive
while you are screaming and writhing
and no matter how much
your ripped off fingernails write help me on the coffin lid
no matter much your tears sting
no matter how much you cry or scream or vomit
they will bury you
social services bury you they get liar lawyers to put on your shroud
they get courts to shovel the soil on top of the coffin lid
those nice little clerks of the local authoritywrite your headstone
and they celebrate their witches dance
cackling about who they spat their revenge on
for these witches carry a hatred
for someone or something
that upset their own inner spoiled brat in its endevours
when an ego was so badly upset that it wanted revenge again and again and again
not only did these witches found a ready coven
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that is eager to help thrust that toxic hatred down the throats
of such helpless easy targets
they found a coven with powerful new spells
so as i lie here rotting
in my underground coffin
above the ground, they rot my children
and all is quiet
as you walk gently across the ground above putrifying remains
and put a donation into the box from social services
that says "save the children, we care".
Poem166. Justification
1.
justification, justification.......
always......
justification.....
ramification of their power.... over my children....
over me......
deceitful social services....
incompetent police...... horrible lawyers.....
their version.......
not my children's.....
not my version......
not reality...... their version.....
their club.....
they all know each other....
their version......
to meet .....
lawyers needs..... to meet deceitful requirements.....
morally bankrupt.....
to meet the needs of money
2.
but now....
there is a price.....
my nerves respond badly.... the pain.....
the fear.....
memories......
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of helplessness....
of sickening abuse....
my children... me......
it's not over.....
....
the bad people are still here......
.... CPSTD.....
they call it....
i call it hell.....
3.
my brain fire.....
my nerves.....
my CPTSD..... my hellish prison.....
my fire......
but i need to swim....
these deadly waters......
seeking safety..... for my children.....
4.
my big friend...... from the dark place....
the subconscious boiling....
trawling......
analysing ....
constructing.... almost a dance....
with annihilation.....
.......
i know it's power.....
i like it's power..... the monster....
from the deep.....
so many times.....
it helps......
5. Finale..
swim......
in burning ....
swim......
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extended use.
Glossary.
Back to Poem1
de Beauvoir: Simone de Beauvoir was a major advocate of the feminist movement. Her
philosophy was that a women’s personality was made from her experiences and treatment as a woman, just as much as they were physically born female.
CAFCASS: is a government organisation that is supposed to looks after the interests of children involved in family proceedings. They have been heavily criticised in recent years
for making large numbers of bad errors. My own, and my children’s experience of them has been dreadful.
CPS. Crown Prosecution Service. The government body whose job it is convict as many
people as possible, innocent or guilty, to meet conviction targets.
Domestic Violence. Defined as abusive and violent behaviour encountered in the home
group. Domestic violence is not acceptable. Domestic abuse is not acceptable.
The governments answer is to attack the symptoms and not the causes. This will not work, and only propagates the problem.
The women’s movement in the last 40 years has created a huge amount of prejudice
against men. This is in stark opposition to Government statistics which show that violence from adults to children is predominately by women.
Domestic violence is not a gender problem. Domestic violence is about people carrying toxic behaviour, not about their gender. Violence from adults to adults is 2 women
victims to 1 male victim. The UK police, social services, probation and the whole legal system is grossly biased against men. You will not get a fair trial in a magistrates court
in the UK if you are a man accused of domestic violence. Evidence to defend yourself is deliberately limited by CPS to improve conviction rates. A senior barrister told me she
left the Crown Prosecution Service because too many people were wrongly convicted. I have my own experience of how dreadful and prejudiced the whole system is.
SS : (Schultztaffel) were the elite of the National Socialist Party in historical Germany. Deeply involved with social engineering by immoral means. They believed they were
improving mankind.
SS: - The Social services is a government organisation that conducts social engineering, much of it in an immoral way. They believe they are improving mankind, but the
statistics do not support this, in fact say the opposite. They have legal authority to interfere with families with little recourse, and this type of
work attracts and suits abusively inclined people (toxic mind syndrome with revenge
traits). They have been heavily criticised in recent years for making large numbers of bad errors, and that number of criticisms is growing.
My own, my children’s and other people that I know have had a very bad experience of them.
Triggering. People who are subject to trauma are frequently triggered by words, ideas,
pictures. This can be particularly stressful and disturbing for the person.
There are hundreds of news snippets that are exposing abusive social workers.
England’s children’s social care is a national disgrace and growing worse.
see below.
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Return News1
By Christopher Booker 5:53PM BST 03 Aug 2013 Daily Telegraph UK.
It hardly needed Coventry’s senior MP to call for the resignation of the head of the city’s
children’s services to tell us that the awful death of little Daniel Pelka represents one of
the most glaring examples of a failure by our “child protection” system since the case of
Peter Connolly hit the headlines in 2008. The “Baby P” scandal is widely cited by the
authorities as the reason why, since April 2008, the number of applications to remove
children from their families in England and Wales has more than doubled, from 380 to
nearly 1,000 a month. The impression given is that our social workers have now become
doubly vigilant to ensure that such a horrifying series of blunders is never repeated.
This, however, is belied by the statistics that show that in the past three years, the
number of children removed from their families for “physical abuse” has actually fallen,
from 5,000 to 4,600. By far the biggest percentage increase, 56 per cent, has been in
children removed for “emotional abuse”. This includes that wonderfully vague excuse,
increasingly fashionable with social workers, of “the risk of emotional abuse”, meaning
that they don’t even have to show that children have been actually abused, merely that
there may be a possibility of this happening sometime in the future.
The real scandal, of course, is not just that social workers too often fail to act where a
child is being genuinely ill-treated, but that they are far too quick to seize children from
responsible parents for wholly inadequate reasons. The teachers at Daniel’s school
recorded abundant signs of how he was being neglected and physically harmed, without
any action being taken. But too often the situation is the very reverse, where teachers
misinterpret some remark made by a pupil and are then much too quick to call in social
services, with devastating results. Hence several such cases I have reported here, such
as the loving mother who lost both her children simply because a teacher overheard her
daughter saying, “My mother hit me”, when this was no more than a slap on the arm
with a roll of cling film, because the girl was not getting on with her homework.
Social workers love to defend themselves by saying, “We’re damned if we do and
damned if we don’t”. What they cannot understand is that in reality, both these things
can be true. They are at fault both in failing to intervene when it is justified, but equally
in being much too trigger-happy to intervene when no action is called for. The tragedy of
all this can be summed up in a phrase I coined years ago to describe what is going on
with our regulatory system in many different areas – that it is “taking a sledgehammer
to miss the nut”. Nowhere is this more obvious than in a system that tears thousands of
families apart for no good reason, while somehow managing at the same time to turn a
blind eye to all the evidence that children such as Daniel Pelka are being slowly tortured
to death.
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Return New2
New family court guidelines won’t improve a rotten system for children: Lord Justice Munby's proposals won't change the fact that far too many
children are taken into care for no good reason
By Christopher Booker 6:51PM BST 27 Jul 2013
Excitable coverage was given last week to new draft guidelines issued by Sir James
Munby, the judge in charge of our family courts, which it was claimed would be a
groundbreaking move towards lifting the blanket of secrecy that has allowed our “child
protection” system to become such a national scandal. The welcome given to Lord
Justice Munby’s draft guidelines to answer “the charge that we have a system of secret
and unaccountable justice” – entitled “Transparency in the Family Courts (and Court of
Protection)” – came from two opposing directions. On one side, two newspapers
proclaimed it as a victory for their own campaigns to open up our family courts to
greater public scrutiny. On the other was one of the chief cheerleaders for the system,
Sir Martin Narey, now Michael Gove’s chief adviser on childcare, who wrote an article for
The Times, “Family courts don’t take enough children into care”. The new
“transparency”, he argued, would enable the public to see how desperately needed is the
vital work our courts and social workers are doing.
All Lord Justice Munby is proposing, however, is that all judgments in these cases should
be published, unless a judge finds “compelling reasons” otherwise. Just how confusing
his proposals are can be seen from comparing section 21, where he says that “public
authorities and expert witnesses should be named” in all published judgments, with
section 24, which says “no person other than advocates or solicitors instructing them
may be identified by name or location”. So, no naming of those “expert witnesses” or
local authorities.
Far more important than this seemingly glaring contradiction, however, is that all Lord
Justice Munby is saying is that the outside world should be allowed to see more
judgments – still entirely at the discretion of the judge. To anyone familiar with the
peculiar workings of these courts, this will leave 95 per cent of what is so shocking about
what goes on in them as secret as ever. Still completely hidden will be the way all the
normal rules of British justice can be suspended: as in allowing judges to accept
damning hearsay evidence, however absurd, without it being put to any proper test; as
in how parents whose children have been taken from them are too often not allowed to
challenge untruths or the tendentious opinions of “hired gun” psychologists, who may
not even be qualified; as in how too many parents find themselves facing the cruellest
ordeal of their lives being treated by judges and all present like criminals, without being
given any proper opportunity to plead their case.
Almost nothing of the ruthlessly enforced blanket of secrecy that has allowed our family
courts to become so corrupted will be affected in any way by Lord Justice Munby’s
proposals. Even the judgments he wants to see published cannot be properly understood
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by an outsider unaware of all that has gone on in the courtroom, and how what may well
be a shockingly one-sided and selective judgment was arrived at. In words I have
quoted before from a disillusioned family court barrister, who spent 10 years defending
in vain the right of hundreds of families to stay together, the system is so rigged against
the families that it is like “seeing lambs led to the slaughter”.
One of the more unfortunate consequences of the secrecy that hides the workings of this
system from public view is that it makes it so easy for its defenders, such as Sir Martin
Narey, formerly head of Barnardo’s, one of the largest beneficiaries of our lucrative
fostering and adoption industry, to claim, as he did again last week, that only in “a very
small minority” of cases are “children wrongly taken away by the authorities”. On the
contrary, all the evidence suggests to those who follow these matters closely, such as
John Hemming MP, of Justice for Families, or Ian Josephs, who advises thousands of
families through his Forced Adoption website, is that, since the number of children being
yearly taken into state care in England and Wales has soared to nearly 30,000, those
being removed from their families for no good reason now run into many thousands.
Sir Martin last week told BBC Radio 4’s Today programme that it was “a myth” that
“social workers and local authorities intervene unnecessarily to take children into care”.
He went on to say dismissively that this “myth” had arisen only through
“misunderstandings” over “attachment theory” (ie, that there is some kind of special
bond between children and their parents); over “the human rights of parents” (ie,
Articles 6, 8 and 10 of the Convention on Human Rights that guarantee “a fair trial”,
“respect for family life” and “freedom of speech”); and “the myth that care can make
things worse”.
Not the least terrifying feature of the system Sir Martin so blindly defends is the
mountain of evidence to show that children taken into care can too often be subjected to
physical and emotional abuse far worse than anything alleged against the parents from
whom they have been removed. Of course, where fostering and adoption are genuinely
necessary and work, they are admirable and can save children from a life of misery and
neglect. But too often the very reverse is the case. On the very day Sir Martin was being
deferentially interviewed by the Today programme, I received two more handwritten
letters, smuggled out to her family from her foster home, by a bright 13-year-old girl
who has now, for quite ridiculous reasons, been in state care for more than two years.
In one she wrote: “I miss you sooo much and I love you even more, I’m so sad and I
don’t want to live any more, I can’t take it any more, I have so many scars, I’m so
scared, Daddy, please help me! I’m so sorry I’m so scared. I should be brave!” In the
second letter she writes: “I’m so scared, my heart is shattered to pieces. I love you
infinity itself, and miss you infinity itself.” This is an articulate, utterly distraught girl,
who was never harmed by her family, who has been repeatedly ill-treated in foster care
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and who has been repeatedly refused her right under the UN Convention on the Rights of
the Child to put her own case to a court.
Her story is just a tiny part of the reality of what goes on behind that wall of secrecy that
our child-protection system has erected – way beyond anything it is authorised to do by
Parliament – not to protect the children, but simply to protect itself. Lord Justice Munby’s
guidelines will do not a jot or little to change it.
Return News3
Social services took my children. 10:30PM GMT 26 Feb 2011
Eileen Fairweather has investigated child care scandals for the past 20 years. But even
she was shocked by the way an increasingly Stalinist state has torn apart one woman’s
family.
A brilliant postgraduate recently asked me to attend a final care hearing in Britain’s
notoriously secret Family Courts. She feared that social services were about to wrongly
remove her children permanently from her care, and wanted a journalist to bear witness.
I specialise in investigating social services, but refused. I thought this mother had a
better chance of being reunited with her young children if she did nothing to provoke the
authorities.
I was wrong. In January, the High Court made her daughter and son (both under 12) the
subjects of a special guardianship order. They have now been placed with a distant
relative they barely know and, under Section 34 of the Children Act 1989, the mother
has been barred from contact until they are 18, on pain of imprisonment.
She has not been prosecuted for any kind of abuse, or committed any crime. She does
not drink, smoke or use drugs, and has no mental illness. Numerous high-flying
professional friends describe her as kind, stoical and a loving mother. However, her
children were taken from her owing to psychological vulnerability, during a period of
great stress. Social services concluded that this put them at risk of “significant harm”.
What does this tell us about modern Britain, and an arguably ever more Stalinist state?
Court-ordered reporting restrictions mean that I cannot use identifying details. Charlotte,
as I shall call her, was a former RAF cadet, law graduate and legal practitioner. After the
court decreed that she should never see her children again, she said: “My children were
deeply loved and privileged, and everything I lived for. I am trying not to remember
anything because of the deep pain it causes me. I cry constantly.”
Intelligence tests place Charlotte in Britain’s top nine per cent. But she was adventurous
and preferred the outdoors to offices: she had her own horse, skippered her first boat at
19, and later won a prestigious bursary enabling her to study for a vocational university
degree.
She was thrilled. But she was also a single parent (to Emily and Oliver; not their real
names) and struggled to cope at university. Charlotte moved to the town just before
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term began, with no nearby family or friends. Her ex-partner provided no support so she
bought a wrecked house cheaply at auction. Her nanny proved unsuitable, so she spent
hours driving between school, nursery and child-minder.
She was the only woman on her course. When a tutor postponed classes to the evening,
after the nursery closed, she accused him of sexual discrimination. Her combative
manner did not endear her. Her tutor accused her of “haughty” rudeness. She
apologised, but felt unwelcome on the course. Meanwhile, a cascade of events brought
her to the attention of social services.
Labour, in its dying days, used panic about child abuse to introduce continual monitoring
of families. All state employees in contact with children are now expected continually to
note and electronically pool their observations. The eight-page, 60-section Common
Assessment Framework (CAF) asks invasive questions: how a child feels about its
developing body; whether parents encourage cultural diversity; and if they work too
hard to play with children. Labour recommended CAFs for the 50 per cent of British
children it defined as “in need”.
Critics warned that this would produce a nation of snitches, and allow children to be
removed through the accumulation of subjective judgments and untested tittle-tattle.
Charlotte’s plight amply illustrates this. Just before her first term began, a librarian
expressed concern about Charlotte’s daughter being left in charge of her son. A police
officer called shortly afterwards about her nanny’s lost passport. He reported the home’s
poor condition, and an “unrelated male” on the premises (her builder).
A nursery worker noted that her son sometimes wore the same clothes as the day
before, and arrived in a wet nappy (Charlotte had no hot water yet, and their morning
journey took an hour). A teacher said that Charlotte’s queries about the quality of her
daughter’s school meals meant that she did not cook enough at home.
A multi-agency CAF assessment was recommended. The first professionals were
sympathetic. A health visitor in December 2008 described Charlotte “trying to juggle
child care, studying, building work. Extra stressed this week: problems at university –
timetable errors.”
Neither she nor the police saw any need for child protection, and a social worker
confirmed: “Charlotte shows warmth and affection... she also has a good relationship
with her health visitor and has acted on all advice given.”
Charlotte’s father’s died that Christmas. Her parents split up when she was tiny but she
still mourned him deeply. She soldiered on, gained top marks and bought her daughter a
pony. She wanted to provide a Swallows and Amazons childhood – she had roamed
freely on her bike and horse from a young age. But that was in a vanished Britain. She
could not understand why it was considered risky to let an older child temporarily mind a
younger one in a library.
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Grieving, isolated and exhausted, she asked the university medical centre for
counselling. No one agreed who had responsibility for this incomer, who had a local and
a university doctor. Ten months later, she was still not on a waiting list. On October 16
2009 she blurted out to her GP that sometimes she thought of suicide and taking her
children with her, rather than leave them motherless. She says now: “I deeply regret
that. My pain was acute, but I would never harm myself or my children. I had had
thoughts of hurting myself – images but not plans, what is called 'ideation’, but no
intent. I did not want to hurt myself so I was seeking help to deal with the images. I was
desperate to stay healthy for the sake of my children.”
Her doctor alerted social services: Charlotte needed “extra support”. But new child
protection procedures – over-cautious, inflexible and based on tick lists – mean that
parents needing practical help increasingly find their children wrongly classified as “at
risk” rather than “in need”. Adult and children’s social services have been separated,
there is almost no budget for the former and no longer a holistic approach to families: a
parent in need is often treated as a threat.
The council repeatedly sought to remove her children. They were initially deflected by a
psychiatrist and by police, who described happy and safe children. But a child protection
plan meeting found there was a “risk of neglect”.
By January Charlotte was so stressed that she feared she could no longer cope, and
made the mistake of telling social services. She thought it might secure support;
instead, every word was logged and used against her.
In February 2010, Cafcass – the Children and Family Court Advisory and Support Service
– was enlisted. Britain’s secret family courts primarily rely on its judgments. If a solitary
Cafcass guardian decides against a parent in a care or custody dispute, the parent is
powerless. The guardians are unaccountable.
The guardian recommended within days that Charlotte’s children be removed and
fostered. She was now allowed to see them only briefly once a fortnight at a “contact
centre”. Three watching social workers critically analysed everything the family said and
did.
On one occasion, she took her little boy to the lavatory. A male social worker ordered
her not to shut the door – he wanted to watch to ensure the child’s safety. She slammed
the door and was accused of assaulting the man.
Charlotte feared that the foster carer and Cafcass were asking her children increasingly
leading questions about abuse. “I remember one contact session,” she says, “when
Emily was crying and screaming, saying she wanted me and that I was not horrible to
her. I did slap her once. It has haunted me ever since. Then they said that I’d dropped
Oliver when I was feeding him and hit him round the head. It wasn’t true. I’d just told
Emily jokingly once how he bit me when I was breast-feeding him and I tapped his
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cheek to make him stop. And there is no medical or other evidence that I ever hurt
either child.
“The last time I saw them, Oliver became distressed and clung to me and made it very
clear he wanted to come home with me. I believe this is the reason the Cafcass guardian
claimed that she saw me pinch the children.”
Charlotte asked for further contact to be filmed, to protect her from further false
allegations. Social services refused. That was the last time she saw her children, on April
28.
She felt that whatever she said was distorted. So she tape-recorded a phone call – heard
by The Sunday Telegraph – asking why the guardian had removed her children. The
woman said she lacked “boundaries”: Charlotte was not adept enough at hiding stress.
On that basis, half Britain’s mothers might lose their children.
Cafcass commissioned a psychologist to evaluate Charlotte’s ability to parent her
children. The psychologist had qualified in 2005.
The psychologist’s conclusions were not favourable. Charlotte countered by gathering
dozens of letters of support. None of the witnesses were consulted or able to give
evidence in court. In May 2010, Charlotte applied for the right to appeal. A local
newspaper reported the court case: “Refuting the claims that she threatened to murder
her children and attacked the social worker as 'entirely false’, the mother agreed she had
been 'under great stress’.”
The court refused her permission to appeal. Charlotte was told she could write to her
children weekly. “But whatever I wrote they vetted and would not send. My last letter to
my daughter included memories of a day that was very special to her because she and
her friends took the ponies swimming in the river. I was told off for being insufficiently
'upbeat’ and 'too emotive’.”
She then arranged for an assessment of her mental health by an experienced
psychologist, who recommended a short course of therapy, family assessment and a
gradual reunification with her children, but his advice was not taken.
Charlotte could no longer concentrate on anything save fighting for her children. She
dropped out of her university course, lost her bursary – and her home. She discovered
that spending on family proceedings and Cafcass has hugely increased. “Since 2008 [and
Baby P], 2,000 more children are being taken by councils each year. Most councils
confirm that they spend little, if anything, on residential family assessments – which
case law says is mandatory to meet Article 6 of the Human Rights Convention.”
Charlotte fell apart after the final court decision over her children. “I cannot think of a
way out. I have trapped myself inside a room just staring into a computer screen for
eight months now because I cannot face the reality of my situation.”
The court order bars her from going within half a mile of her children’s new residence or
schools. She may send cards four times a year.
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“My case is a perfect example of how social services can literally take any child because
there is no route of redress and no requirement for any real evidence. The courts are
just there to rubber stamp whatever Cafcass recommends. There are no standards or
safeguards. Any parent accused of abuse or neglect should be allowed a second,
independent opinion.
“Every detail of my life has been analysed and distorted. I have been accused of
enduring mental health problems simply because I left home young and for a time did
not have a good relationship with my mother. I only went through normal ups and
downs. But, although I briefly suffered a couple of times from depression, I was never
hospitalised or medicated. I begged for my children to give evidence, a recorded contact
session and a residential assessment. But everything was refused.”
I have investigated child care scandals for two decades, and am used to people
contacting me with sob stories about “wicked” social services who turn out to be mad,
bad or both. But Charlotte struck me as sane, decent and bright. I listened to her and
talked to people who knew her case and concluded that a terrible injustice has been
inflicted on her and her children.
The case against her seems a patchwork of trivial concerns, twisted together to reflect
her in the worst possible light. How and why can such a thing happen? Some critics
claim that children are being whisked into care to meet government targets for adoption.
Conspiracy theorists talk of children being removed in order to supply paedophile or
even satanic abuse rings.
Charlotte probably didn’t help her case by, in her despair, turning to this rag-bag
movement and echoing some of their wilder claims on the internet and in her dealings
with social services, who saw this as further proof of her instability. Yet many child care
scandals have indeed revealed the presence of sex-offenders within the system: I myself
exposed the shocking Islington children’s homes scandal in the Nineties. (Independent
inquiries later confirmed that every one of the borough’s 12 homes included abusers,
drug pushers or otherwise suspect staff.)
But just as often, it seems to me, injustices take place owing to human error – and
moral laziness. At some point one key person decides to follow just one direction – the
“bad mother” line – and every other professional falls into step.
Several factors, however, made Charlotte vulnerable to interference by the authorities.
She was a bright, loving middle-class mother – often the easiest kind for social workers
to deal with. She was no feckless, promiscuous single mother living off benefits. She was
self-sufficient, Christian and celibate, and extraordinarily hard-working. She organised
different activities every day for her children, fed them wholesome home-made food. But
she was psychologically fragile, because of her background.
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Her parents’ marriage broke up owing to her father’s drinking. Charlotte’s mother had to
work hard to raise her children alone, and her feisty daughter admits that she became
difficult in her teens. This culminated in her taking an overdose.
This may have weighed against her. “But,” she asks, “how many moody teenagers make
half-hearted attempts like mine? I have sometimes struggled with depression,
particularly after my father died, and I asked for help, but I never imagined it could be
used against me like this.”
The earliest professionals involved with Charlotte’s case warmly backed her: she was a
good mother doing her best. But the determination of the Cafcass worker to remove the
children coloured everyone’s view. The course was set and no one dared challenge it.
Charlotte is now considering taking her case to Europe or even going on hunger strike.
“That may seem crazy but legal action takes years and I don’t know what else I can do.
The grief of losing your children is too much to bear.”
Finale comment.
Mankind has always created nasty authoritarian groups throughout its history. Social services are just another one.
God help your children and you if you become subject to social services.
End of snippets for Book2.