Is there a rhythm of life surging in the air
a will of consciousness within?
That makes us want to keep surviving
disasters and endless despair!
An untouchable strength we can't succumb
to despicable acts that make us numb!

Mental tragedies the loss of our everything
seem to be often overcome!
Deeds of violence natures cruel hand dealt
that rhythm of life keeps flowing.
As if the eternal miracle allows another chance
of renewal and hope of romance.

Nothing's simple for the ever increasing masses
yet the power of self preservation.
Has seen them through centuries of pure torment
linked in the fact we are of one!
Every soul part of the immense rhythm of destiny
guided by an invisible entity!

What will befall one will eventually befall us all !

The Foureyed Poet.

Maybe death is the only real way to escape
from a society that does not care!
If you can find a job and be able to work
keep your head above the rising tide.
Do not get ill needing medical attention
you could have a good life extension!

Bills never cease to endlessly come forth
fine if you can pay each one.
Tough if you default help is hard to find
countless obstacles put in the way.
Then crushed by pointless paperwork
not having any intention to shirk!

I can see why death maybe the only way
as there is no mercy if you can't pay!

The Foureyed Poet.

Such a busy day at work I remember
must have been last November.
It was a happy evening with my wife
a late dinner no tension or strife.
A glass or two of our favourite wine
and the *** was truly divine.

Falling asleep at around midnight
leaving on the bedside light.
Outside a heavy frost began to lay
no need to get up Saturday.
Something aroused me it was bang
followed by a clang!

Fearful it was intruders in our house
certainly not a noisy mouse.
I picked up a baseball bat by the bed
quietly on the landing with dread.
As a hooded figure came up the stairs
eye to eye glares!

In the dim light I saw their arm swing
then in my shoulder a sting!
At that time not realising I'd been stabbed
the burglar I grabbed.
But they broke away instinctively I swung
stupidly I bit my tongue!

With an unknown strength I suddenly found
a hard object I did pound.
The wooded bat vibrated in my shaking fist
down the stairs we fell with a twist!
I heard distant screams muffled shouting
my sanity I was doubting!

Footsteps then running out of the door
a body below me on the floor!
Realising the bat was still in my hand
would the authorities understand?
I was arrested for attacking the intruder
the questions getting cruder!

By my actions treated like the privacy invader
accused of murdering the raider!
Just a man protecting his home dwelling
the truth I tried telling.
A terrible experience I could not forget
the future of eternal regret!

After weeks of worry the charges were withdrawn
it can't alter memories now torn!

The Foureyed Poet.

As he stood within the stone castle
a voice called in a rasp tone!
The temperature dropped very low
deep disturbing and near.
An after thought it was very clear
was it a whisper in her ear!

A rational man scientific in attitude
wanting know what it was!
He could not know the stone tape theory
images and sounds retained!
Can be found inside any buildings fabric
is it real or simply a trick?

This defining moment in his busy life
made him doubt his sanity!
Objects bounced off the granite floor
a groan now he felt encased!
Something was slowly rotating around
his terror did compound!

In dim lighting the eyes can decieve
easy to trip over trying to escape.
That same voice he heard once again
as he reached the stone steps.
Pain began to increase in his chest
falling down he found no rest!

A faint sound came from his cold lips
a shadow hovered over his body!
Darkness overcame him life ebbed away
a staff member had heard a noise!
Who ventured to the cellar door he saw
bones on the dusty floor!

Nobody had been here for fifty years
a dungeon of pain and tears!
Ensnared souls held in this stone tomb
a man vanished from his room.
So a story was told and was never found
until an innocent heard a sound!

The forensic team removed the remains
they could not see him!
The man heard a voice and saw shadows
not realising he himself was dead!
A paranormal team would soon come in
to investigate what was here within!

Would they regret the visit?

The Foureyed Poet!

On the grid of the major formula one race
pressure has to be at it's best!
Noise at a decibel limit beyond sanity
each handled with extreme care.
The press and fans amplify the thrill
secretly many want to see a spill!

This race under the cover of darkness
even higher tension in the pits!
Forever ready for their teams to stop
mental tension in overload!
Who is top dog driver or the racing car
pride and prestige to be the star!


Incredible speeds around a tight track
you can only watch in awe.
Pit crews always ready to perform on cue
practised to a fine art.
Tyre changes and strategy the aim to win
on the grid let the race begin!

Egos sky high into battle the rallying Cry.

The Foureyed Poet

That Look in your eyes held the key
to the passion within your soul.
Sitting in the quaint atmospheric pub
in a historic city feeling right.
It was then the depth of love flowed
sincerely it really showed.

To journey to a different destination
away from our comfort zone.
Awakening and magnifying our love
in a place friendly and relaxed.
Doubt melted into the sparkling sphere
our move forward so clear.

Interlocking fingers tingling with energy
never thought love existed.
Safe and warm in our auras as we walked
together down a road of hope.
Believing as one we can face anything
the key would be challenging.

Can there be such a thing a deep passion
two souls intertwined in love?
Able to face any situation life may bring
a unit of pure love and devotion.
How I wished this could have been me
with that special one and the key!

That has never happened in my world!

The Foureyed Poet.

Fields of green is surely a lovely scene
unspoilt of man's vision!
Which seems build on everything
plus adding pollution!
In between swaying trees plastic bags
lot's of cans and rotting rags!

Any idyllic view fly tipping is common
saving money the priority!
With a touch of pylons and mobile masts
and those wind turbines to.
Land spattered with concrete and steel
in despair helpless you kneel!

Completely drained at what's being done
over two centuries plundered.
That's detrimental to earth's natural order
continuing to **** the resources!
Certainly will take it's toll on civilisation
like the Mayans obliteration!

Has this happened before and now replaying?

The Foureyed Poet.