How can this be allowed for our people
worked all their lives.
Trying to save for their own retirement
and reap the rewards.
They labour hard and toil over the years
finding they can't as it nears!

Eroded away the money they thought was safe
wrongly by employers.
Government changes depleting their nest eggs
then having to work longer.
Pensions worth far less than they'd expected
many retirements affected!

Placed on the stock market by speculators
too much squandered.
As it's not their own money to fritter away
to get it will take longer.
Not able to retire on the original date
some may not last the wait!

Unaffected are the wealthy usual story
they never lose out.
Richer by the day without any idea
from their high perch.
Viewing the masses in total disarray
gloating it makes their day!

The Foureyed Poet.

Deep blue that's how I remember
and the sound of the sea.
Warmth on my face smell the salt
as the tide roles in.
Gently running over your feet
that moment so sweet.

Lovely memories lasted for a while
as on the golden sand.
A body mutilated washed ashore
the beauty now faded!
Hearing screams from the still sea
shocked who could it be?

A vague shape was waving frantically
glancing at the corpse!
Then again at the desperate victim
no choice I had to try!
And save them with no hesitation
but plenty of consternation.

Nearing the victim thrashing in the sea
with difficulty held them.
Bringing them slowly back to the shore
exhausted we made it.
The young woman traumatized and weak
whimpering unable to speak!

Later I found out it was her dad who died
she'd fallen out of a boat.
He jumped in to save her bitten by a shark
lucky I was there.
Glad we never suffered the same awful fate
something I often debate!

The Foureyed poet.

There is just so much anybody can take
treated with no respect.
How could you be that utterly rude
what was said I did accept.
I'm really an ordinary sort of chap
whose in a bit of a flap.

Met you as a friend totally happy at that
didn't see your true colours.
Thought I had money you were nice
asking for small amounts.
Which like a fool I willingly gave
becoming your money slave!

It was a one way relationship it seemed
there was no intent!
Paying for meals and drinks every day
until you wanted twenty grand!
Then the reason for wanting to know me
as last I clearly could see.

The days I admit are more lonely again
your reasons no need to explain!

I heard you'd moved onto the next victim!

The Foureyed Poet.

Why did I ever think that you cared
as upon your face I stared.
Saying you never had any feelings
just a bloke that's all.
Never had any intentions to call
but I had seen her out.
At that time I just didn't know
that was the truth.
Deep inside though I really knew
what a full I'd become.
Becoming your personal clown
my life you brought down!

The Foureyed Poet.

My recollection of that unbelievable incident
on the site of an earth fort.
Deep in the English countryside an event
from then an answer I sought.
Climbing away from the cities and towns
coming gently onto the downs.

Fresh and silent a shimmering haze on the hills
your lungs fill with clean air.
Nobody else was around as dusk approached
walking in space without time.
Beginning to feel light headed and chilled
an energy was distilled!

A sensation of floating a vision began to shape
soldiers on horseback and on foot.
Glittering army and flowing deep red long capes
within touching distance.
Romans silently moving in glorious formation
heading to a long passed destination!

As quickly as they appeared to me gone
back into the past.
Not afraid it was like being in a realistic dream
awaking with a satisfied smile.
Leaving me with an incredible new belief
no need to feel grief.

That maybe there was life beyond this one
living on after death!
Coming back to my daily mundane existence
recounting the images.
That I had truly felt was a real fulfilling sight
leaving me with such delight!

So much we have yet to learn from our mysterious world!

The Foureyed Poet.

Forever shown on the media as if to be proud
man's appalling history.
Wars have always dominated human culture
through countless strife.
Carnage constantly depicted on our screens
where you see real fiends!

As if these are trophies proud to be shown
maybe to view our mistakes.
Film makers creating war films more graphic
documentaries digitally enhanced.
Any footage clarified raising major reactions
trying to analyse the actions.

Maybe we need reminding of our blunders
often the young don't want to know.
Brought up with never ending war zones
becoming blase to the horrors!
Many don't even read see or hear the news
interesting in personal views!

Violence is part of our hereditary code
natural mode physical combat.
Rather than talk it through to rationalize
so they rage ever on.
And the atrocities will I can see continue
guiltless killed by the few!

The Foureyed Poet.

You turned away from me in our bed
the tension so strong.
I knew it was nothing that I had said
our relationship felt wrong.
Smelling that perfume on your skin
doubt hit me within!

Always late coming home from your job
deep in my heart I knew.
I laid there trying so hard not to sob
intuition came through.
Nothing for it but to confront you
admitting the affair was true!

After twenty two years so hard to take
we stayed friends for our kids sake!

The Foureyed Poet

That day we argued and it got out of hand
driving to town in the car.
Will be something I never understand
it sadly went to far.
When we didn't stop at that red light
as the car took flight.

Hitting a motorbike turning on the side
coming to a violent stop.
Realising much later the rider had died
after crashing into a shop.
Both injured yet somehow survived
our futures not deprived!

Charges brought for dangerous driving
two years a small price.
Divorced our marriage you did forsake
you I couldn't entice.
Maybe the relationship had fallen apart
we had to depart!

The Foureyed Poet

Only just put you into my passed memory
hard to get over your love.
Was not expecting it to end by telephone
after so very long.
Seeing you again rekindled that feeling
your new man left me reeling!

I know it was your decision to move on
recalling it was not mine.
Heartbroken when I lost your essence
not easy facing you again.
It was a good chance we would one day
this time not to play.

Looking into your blue eyes was not easy
making me feel queasy.
My love certainly never faded for you
this I guessed you knew.
To find some one that I liked so much
none could replace your touch!

We spoke I accepted the relationship was over
from then on I was a lonely rover.

Goodbye my only true love.

The Foureyed Poet.

Those in the queue never noticed the tall man
just didn't seem to fit in.
An odd pallor covering his hands and face
shuffling along the line!
Occasionally coughing in the small busy cafe
sprays the virus every way!

Each of the customers looked uncomfortable
at this man's demeanor.
Started moving away as he stuttered his words
asking for a latte coffee.
Picking up the take away cup visibly shaking
his skin then flaking!

Nobody wanted to get near to this sick being
a rising panic set in.
Began to violently heave unable to breathe
others began to feel unwell!
Suddenly shook and fell knocking over a chair
everybody could only stare!

One staff member called for an ambulance
but each stayed clear.
More began to show the same symptoms
knowing it was serious.
Some virulent type of contagious disease
a thought magnifying the unease!

Before the girl could put down the telephone
this man suddenly got up!
Snarling and foaming from his wretched mouth
ripping at the throat.
From a hysterical woman still in the queue
and began to chew!

The rest in turn collapsed and rose the same way
the emergency services came.
With scientist in special suites sealing the doors
they knew what was going on!
A virus from a facility leaked into the atmosphere
untested that was clear!

Had it been an accident or an act of sabotage
no antidote had been perfected!
The scientific experts taking the risks too far
an experiment out of hand!
Creating a new weapon for the military machine
the consequences not foreseen!

The virus continues to spread unabated through society!

The Foureyed Poet.

The burglars had been observing the bungalow
set in an out of the way place.
Smart expensive cars parked on the small drive
but they didn't observe well!
Certain this would be a profitable break in
their planning could begin.

The bungalow down a long narrow track
owned by a middle aged couple.
Few knew they were devil worshippers
this gang failed to find out!
Not digging deep into the victims past
this job would be the last!

In the community locals kept well away
from this evil bungalow!
The thieves were only focused on money
they had blinkered vision.
Confident they would not be disturbed
and certainly not heard!

The large dark van was parked out of view
hooded men approached.
It was after midnight now in the garden
quietly making an entrance.
And dealing with the expensive alarm
it was going like a charm.

Though it all changed when they heard a sound
noises came from below!
Ignoring it they proceeded to search and steal
robed figures came from nowhere.
Overwhelming them and taking each by force
dragged to the sounds source!

More robed figures chanted from every corner
dimly lit by black candles!
It was some sort of temple with a central altar
the first was put on top!
Gagged so they could not shout or scream
something bright did gleam!

The bungalow looked peaceful in the morning
nothing looked out of place.
Guests staying had already gone before light
the couple left for work.
The van was removed from its parking spot
smoke blew from a chimney ***!

Unless invited nobody visited the bungalow!

The Foureyed Poet.

A modern hospital not one with an ominous look
that I entered to visit a friend.
Never keen to go into these sorts of places
to many sick people about.
On crutches in wheel chairs or walking around
reception I soon found.

Given directions to the ward on the fifth floor
taking the crowded lift.
He had a stroke yesterday it was a shock
being only forty four.
Arriving at the right level it was a maze.
of rooms I was in a daze.

Until I asked a nurse which sign I had to follow
pointing me to the location.
Here you really needed your own personal guide
finding him I went to go in.
Sitting in a big chair his appearance was not bad
by him another patient looking sad!

Certainly with a sombre and sallow complexion
left them to chat I went for a coffee.
Getting back this time he was there alone
he was pleased to see me.
Said I had seen him talking not wanting to interfere
but Jim said nobody was near!

I gave a rough description the best that I could
he gave me an odd glance.
That poor bloke you described passed away
on this very bed yesterday!

For a few moments lost for words at what he said
seeing a ghost was I going off my head?

The Foureyed Poet.

Like a discarded folly it stands abandoned
a building for the people.
Yet now it's been neglected by the council
there in that prominent position.
Time and weather has not been a friend
as many wish for it's end!

The council did not want the listed building
letting it become a wreck.
Repairing and upgrading others around
urgent repairs had to be done.
The owners who bought it for a pound
just couldn't be found!

Boarded up and classed as still unsafe
even with a grade two listing.
Yet it totters on the edge of its destruction
oppressive when you stare.
The building for years has not been used
watching it being abused!

Discarded this was the communities centre
that should be preserved.
Give that splendour back to this town's core
a focal point create a roar!

The Foureyed Poet.

Arrived at the station late on a winter's night
from the platform saw the train.
As it disappeared into the railway tunnel
on the down line to the city.
No sound except for a rising bitter wind
to be on it my hopes were pinned.

Not prone to be scared but uncomfortable
every noise put me on alert!
It was an unmanned station and I was alone
with no cell phone signal.
Unable to tell a soul that I'd missed the train
as it started to pour with rain.

The external lamps began to swing with force
creating many darting shadows!
I could hear footsteps on the empty platform
then realised I was pacing.
As that dread of the unknown within grew
stuck until the next train was due!

At this point I was sure somebody was nearby
an outline of a figure was clear!
But it was nothing just a swinging door
to the waiting room I went in.
Inside closing it shut light here was poor
paper blown in on the floor.

I started talking aloud then I saw in the corner
a small child and I guessed her mother!
Who I hadn't noticed when I entered the room
taken by surprise I said ' Hello'.
The lady smiled and spoke quietly back
yet emotion her voice did lack!

They seemed nice and we chatted for a while
their clothes seemed an odd style!
Eventually fell sleep when I woke they'd gone
it was daylight outside.
The clock on the wall read six and was very cold
onto the platform I strolled.

I consciously glanced for the two I'd met in the night
but they were not in sight!
At that moment my thoughts were on leaving
as the early train came in.
Nobody else got on board that I could relay
only later did I replay!


Shuddering at the implication they weren't real
ghosts the image didn't appeal!
Looking as solid as me having a conversation
thinking this once I'd left.
Though now I shall never really find out
always having a nagging doubt!

What did I experience that cold winter's night?

The Foureyed Poet.

Passing a property I felt compelled to the gate
something had drawn me to stop!
An irresistible urge to go inside the property
having to bang on the red door.
Waiting unable to move from the spot
on that nice day I was cold not hot!

I tried to move how I wanted to run
but my body wouldn't move!
The screams were trapped in my throat
why was I frozen here?
Shuffling noises from within approached
as my space was encroached!

I could now hardly breath as the door opened
a wrinkled old woman stared.
With deep black sunken eyes that glared
the pierced your soul!
As my body was drawn into the room
nearby was a witches broom!

Then it turned into a grim putrid hovel
as other witches appeared!
I lost consciousness at that very moment
waking up on a lino floor.
A middle aged lady staring down at me
as I looked up embarrassingly!

Helping me to a comfortable armchair
she told me I was not the first.
Who had been drawn to her front door
on this spot once it was said.
An evil witches coven had been found
but was burnt to the ground!

Seven witches were caught and put on trial
by the frightened villagers!
And here where the place now stands
they were burnt at the stake!
Saying they cursed the villagers evermore
descendants would knock the door!

As they alone would detect the witches call
realising I was caught here.
My mum gave me a locket I had to wear
said never take it off.
Unless I was compelled into a dwelling
and this story a lady telling!

Only then should I open the hinged locket
that contained the ashes!
Of the seven that died throw them it's face
then run and not look back!
I did as I was told running until I was tired
so long as now I'm retired!

It was a big story in that town I use to live
a mystery fire had caused.
The destruction of the historical cottage
it was never solved.
But I gather there was no more trouble
a locket was found in the rubble!

The Foureyed Poet.

How did I end up in this awful cell
caged in like an animal!
Diagnosed with a mental disorder
sectioned and put in here.
I had heard those voices in my head
they were from the dead!

Always knowing that I could be a medium
having messages relayed!
But doctors had always said I was ill
nobody listened to me.
This was a gift since I was a child
not suddenly becoming wild!

Dismissed this notion ignoring my plea's
psychiatrist's made the decision.
Drugged and humiliated in a hospital
here I lay on the bed!
How to show the diagnosis was false
get out of this therapy course!

Surely friends and comrades may put it right
prove it was a bad panic attack!
How could they mistake my gift for an illness
it took days to understand.
That what I had been telling them was true
the spirits guided me through!

In this world there is much we don't understand
have an open mind and outstretched hand!

The Foureyed Poet.

Swindon used to be a working railway town
the works then dominated our lives.
Covering so much land under the bridges
most of the jobs were within.
In those days the ****** was our alarm clock
bringing them to work in a flock.

Three ****** blasts echoed over the wide area
we all relied on that sound.
Part of our lives to us a unique local feature
on the third ****** you were late.
In the works most had a relation past on present
at home time avoiding the bikes an event.

The ****** was silenced when it was closed down
sites and sounds changed there after.
New Swindon was built specifically for the railway
greatly missed since it went away.


The Foureyed Poet.

A lone car had to stop at the rail crossing
as the heavy gates close.
Bells rang and lights flashed on and off
she sat waiting to get home.
In the distance down the single track
it passed a rail side shack.

Anxiously thinking why such a long wait
then Annie felt the vibration.
her daughter Ella cried in her car seat
as a dark shape approached!
Speeding by them like an old express train
screaming was hard to refrain.

Ella was silent they were both mesmerised
the barriers stayed down.
Then the scheduled train trundled through
what had they just seen?
barriers now rose how glad to move on
in her mind the image strong!

Annie was certain what they had seen was a ghost train
determined to find out more and come again.

The Foureyed Poet.

That early morning ****** air tasted pure
birds began to rise singing.
The veil of the night lifted for a new dawn
a cockerel then crowed.
Fields still green trees standing unscathed
land yet unpaved!

Untouched by developers or planners curse
a tranquil reminder.
How the countryside was before the building
took natures beauty away
I remember that unblemished infinity gaze
through the natural haze!

With a clear surveillance of the distant landscape
creatures in their habitats.
Still undisturbed of man's advances in evidence
without his blundering hand.
When machines came to carve up hills and dales
lost forever lands and trails!

Lose respect of the environment sacrifice the future!

The Foureyed Poet.

It had been a very long twenty four hours
so glad to be homeward bound.
Finding himself heading into rain showers
eager to make up ground.
Not sure why he'd taken the longer route
his mobile buzzed being on mute.

That distraction took his eyes off the road
as there was a sickening thud!
Looking forward nothing visibly showed
pulling onto a patch of mud.
Regretting this error he got out with a splat
as onto his back he fell flat!

Wet and cold he managed to get on his feet
slid onto the wet road!
Pacing up and down but a pointless beat
seeing nothing as he strode.
Back to his vehicle checking for damage
sensing his rising rage!

Why his emotions were like this was weird
he sat back in his car.
Hoping not to be stuck as the rain cleared
skidding on his way with a jar.
Steering was not very responsive at first
the trip home seemed cursed!

Oblivious to an alien creature gripping tight
glad to be back at last.
Heading for his door on his leg felt a bite
embedded deep his fate cast!
Inside eggs secreted now he was a host
the alien gone like s ghost!

Entering his home collapsed with a blackout
found the next day by a friend.
Rushed to the hospital his prognosis in doubt
for him this was the end!
But would these creatures be detected inside
as they investigated the man died!

With an unexplained death the body was isolated
doctors were very worried!
When the marks were found opinions were invited
scientist to the laboratory hurried.
Noticing movements within the body was he alive
realising the body was a hive!

Luckily the room was a completely sealed unit
in disbelief they monitored!
An extraordinary event what were they within it
this unknown spewing hoard!
The thing searched finding its next victim a cat
who had no chance on the doormat!

Unknown to the scientist the horror had just begun!

The Foureyed Poet.

Distraught the family gathered in a tight unit
not knowing what to do!
Their daughter was hooked on hard drugs
through her liaison with a man.
Realizing there was very little they could do
what next they hadn't a clue!

No matter how hard they'd tried to support
she'd ignored their advice.
Embroiled in a life of drugs and the dealers
she was a confirmed addict!
A situation they'd never faced ever before
the future was unsure!

Moving away to a big city from her home town
contact had become zero!
With such terrible reports of teenage abuse
anxiety began to magnify!
Hard to accept their child on the at risk register
knowing they could lose her!

Harsh facts for them to take in the whole truth
in the end it was her choice!
After the heartache only their child could decide
being at her own cross road.
Whether she had any chance of growing old
or her life to drugs sold!

Split from her drug dealing boyfriend yet again
home she had one more chance.
Off the drugs assuring her weary mum and dad
all they could do was give love.
Deep down understanding this was one last try
or she most surely would Die!

Only their daughter could choose the path!

The Foureyed Poet.

A throbbing head wondering where you are
with slow thoughts you remember.
It's New years day everything looks bleak
not such a happy new year!
How cold and damp where you have laid
lifting your head nerves frayed!

Glancing about you're in the morning air
several others beside you.
An awful smell of ***** and stale *****
makes your stomach churn!
Rising with pain to your feet on wobbly legs
bottle there with a few dregs.

Swigging that down making you feel worse
focusing his tired blurry eyes.
Trying to rouse those prostrate on the ground
recognising some others no idea.
A girl looked familiar then an awful flash back
he'd proposed not the right tack!

Once a school friend but he didn't really like her
waking them they stood up.
Now noticing it was a fly tip ******* everywhere
not far from the last port of call!
Each still under the influence of all the drink
guiding them to the bus link.

Hoping the girl didn't remember much of last night
as the frost began to bite!
Welcome he thought to another bland year
just wanting another beer!

The Foureyed Poet.

Into the back of any thoughts it simply had gone
those penetrating words Nuclear War!
Also spoken a nuclear winter that followed
not since nineteen ninety two.
Had they been uttered with such meaning
with it a real threat leaning!

Footage of Hiroshima seemed distant images
but many countries have the weapon!
A real peril is no longer mere speculation
each with their known instability!
Without morality to hold their actions back
they'd have no qualms but attack!

Tensions are running ever closer to danger levels
as the irresponsibility explodes!
Even a limited nuclear war could easily escalate
into billions of human deaths!
Obliterated from a once green fertile surface!
to an ash covered uninhabitable place!

Maybe the few could survive along with the cockroaches!

Is this man's inevitable fate?

The Foureyed Poet.

Up very early on this particular morning
couldn't sleep not unusual.
Trillions of thoughts racing in his brain
leaving his lovely wife in bed!
knowing to well the problems he'd created
met another himself he hated.

Nine months Jamie had been having an affair
his wife asking why he was late.
On numerous days his mistress wanting him
easy to say it just happened!
How could he let his fling get out of hand
he knew it was underhand.

Couldn't rest his conscience nagged him
no children with his spouse.
Practically one less worry for him to resolve
now his mistress was pregnant!
The usual cliche he still loved his wife
aware this situation was rife!

This didn't help sort out the mess he was in
what was the solution?
None of the answers were fundamentally good
but could not escape the truth.
It would break her heart to if he were to leave
who he never wanted to deceive!

With a deep breath he prepared for honesty
it had been a long time coming.
Prided himself in being an upstanding man
not noticing how low he'd sunk.
Seven thirty approached he heard Emma stir
he had to go and tell her!

With a burning guilt consuming his whole being
he made his way for judgement day!

The Foureyed Poet.

There through the frosted glass front door
a figure stood then a tap!
You are not expecting anybody to call
cautiously moving to answer.
Then on opening you find nobody there
not a soul with a word to share!

Very shaken at this strange experience
you come inside quickly!
Unsure of what to make of the event
it had never happened before!
Not before being left completely alone
hearing a disturbing groan!

She knew the house in the forest had a tale
of a ****** but nothing else!
Not believing the stories told of this place
as an ornament fell off the shelf.
Maybe there was something within here
feeling a presence near!

Telling herself not to be silly just imagination
spirits just don't exist!
As a cold chill sped right through her body
standing there defiantly.
Sensing a physical embrace and exciting kiss
that really felt like bliss!

Now she was scared a voice cried out on her phone
"please help" it said then clicked off!
By now she'd had enough grabbing her coat and left
looking back saw a man!
Staring out of the lounge window so very near
with such an evil leer!

Getting into her pick up truck praying it would start
from that house she did part!
Vowing never to return fearing herself and sanity
there were dark secrets inside!
Had not been a believer in spirits of the dead
now having a questioning dread!

Was it real or was she actually mad!

The Foureyed Poet.

The couple on the street with nothing to their name
a tough place to find yourself.
In the cold house no heating could be used here
or consumed very often!
Parents without jobs two kids and benefits tight
another Christmas near what plight!

Centres opened at Christmas for the down and outs
this derogatory term we still use.
For most it was not a choice of their making
as the recession bites hard!
More desperate and seeking government support
increasing numbers in poverty!

At the other end of that ever longer sliding scale
those with fortunate families.
Where moneys plentiful and their futures bright
in warm well stocked homes.
No need to scrimp and save or turn off the heat
expensive toys and houses so neat!

Cost means nothing filling those many cars
having no idea of those without.
Two cultures at this festive season once more
the rich giving to charities.
To make them fell good in their arrogant way
they'll have a happy Christmas day!

I wonder how the others will fare on this magical day?

The Foureyed Poet.

There on the shoreline of the island he stood
in a proud presidential stance.
Waiting with a twisted smile to be arrested
an automatic weapon in his hand!
Around him lay the wounded and slain
the carnage ended now the pain!


This male had no remorse as they led him away
choosing the moment of surrender!
It was if he had planned and orchestrated this day
police stunned and shocked being there!
At the terrible deed done by one single man
only over a very short span!

Not a flicker of remorse was ever shown
nor a reason for this wickedness!
No comfort for families to start grieving
generations that have been taken!
A peaceful nation numb it was hard to define
the vile scenes played on line!

Overwhelmed thoughts of despise for the killer
travelled around the globe.
As human savagery sank to an ultimate new low
months passed then a decision made.
This man was declared to be completely insane
actions of a disturbed brain!

But is this a conclusion that can be considered true
surely knowing his every move.
Calculated by somebody who was a psychopath
knowing his evil mission!
To be kept in a hospital setting from this day
has justice been taken away?

This crime adds another dark chapter for human kind!

The Foureyed Poet.

From high up on a building something moves slowly
below a scene of panic on a busy city centre.
This being had not been seen was it evil or holy
but within an instant would spectacularly enter.
Then the image above started to brightly glow
the moment was here like a rocket did it flow!

A robbery was taking place the gang sped away
smashing into anything that got in their path.
Pleased with the mayhem and their violent display
not concerned at the chaos or total wrath.
Racing to another car none of them saw it there
the end had come in seconds trapped in the snare!

Everything just stopped the gang was tightly bound
thousands stared at the beautiful lady on top of the car.
The four villains bruised and battered made no sound
she hovered then floated to ground a majestic star.
Was she an angel to their knees the people fell
eyes glaring no person wanted to break the spell!

Few words were spoken but every soul there understood
peace would be the key the wrongs had to be put right.
Like the tales of super heroes she was here to do good
with a smile so bright the angel faded into the night!
Shaken yet changed the crowds slowly melted away
dazed crooks wondered why did she come today?

At that very moment nobody could have taken in
this was only the beginning of the end of all sin!

The Foureyed Poet.

Power of the wind is an awesome force
as you try to get about.
Incredible strength as man is powerless
to control the elements.
Nothing can stand in the winds path
or stop its almighty wrath!

Bringing down power lines and crashing trees
nothing is safe in it's wake!
Cars tossed about like they were polystyrene
roofs ripped off just like paper.
Moving the air at a destructively fast rate
ripping off the garden gate!

Nothing can stop natures almighty surge
man's vulnerability exposed.
No matter how mankind thinks it rules earth
he is nothing and at natures mercy!
Just a tenant renting space on a long lease
as time nears for his release!

Predictions of annihilation never seems to go away
and what is written must happen some day!

The Foureyed Poet.

The bell sounds for the loss of a soldier
killed in a boundless war!
One of numerous soul destroying conflicts
blighting a world of no peace!
Leaving a trail of eternal lonely despair
with only the emptiness there.

How can one imagine the inwardness of loss
families feel for their kin.
A son a daughter or grandchild in the war
the cycle rages on!
Soldiers dying in battles has always been
from a ball of fire to plains of green.

The forces of the crown and those for a cause
have fought to the end.
Pointless waste of life so much left behind
regret and memories instilled.
Into the fabric of our very own existence
the self destructive persistence!

The bell tolled for another lost soldier!

The Foureyed Poet.

In this not so green and pleasant land
those entering is out of hand.
For others emigrations is on the rise
thinking abroad is a better prize.
Less tax and a better way to survive
here it's pointless to strive!

Born in a country you get little support
bled dry trapped we're caught.
Rapid rise in prices of domestic fuel bills
more taking the pills.
The lifetime of working has been a waste
your money gets misplaced!

Taxes are getting out of hand raising revenue
nothing improves we feel blue.
Where does the cash go we're not in the remit
squandered this they wouldn't admit!
What's the facts is our money being misused
no more can politicians be excused!

Debt is the main topic on all the news wires
we need honesty not all the liars!
Are we not easy targets for the lone frauds
thinking we are serfs to the lords.
Always those ready to cash in on the poor
compounding their misery even more!

The Foureyed Poet.

Out of the double glazed bungalow window
a weary Malcolm gazed.
Intently fixed on his nice small red car
would he drive it again?
After a short black out two months before
a bad move for sure.

A small pension like many his only income
benefits only a thought.
Not able to drive the car it stood idle
well saving petrol at least.
Luckily had a bus pass so could get about
having moments of doubt!

A few injuries sustained were now fixed
driving was not allowed.
Not until the reason was found for the fall
a heart defect discovered!
No work available or able to find it
so often here he would sit.

Waiting for an answer could take a while
must keep a basic lifestyle.

The Foureyed Poet.

Often at night I could not picture you
we had met some years passed.
In these lonely moments was it you I heard
somewhere in my head!
Faintly on the still air was it your voice
or my selected choice?

As we met again at a conference weekend
it dawned on me what you meant.
Why I did not realise before time was lost
something I can never pursue!
You are happily married this I understand
but you are in my dreamland!


Age and circumstances are beyond our control
just to know you like me!
Gives me a reason to face each empty day
some friends we meet go away.
I know love is just a distant day dream
a not meant to be theme.

To me you are so beautiful and serene
something that might have been.

The Foureyed Poet.

The young man was sleeping rough on the street
why he was not honestly sure.
A talented musician he mused he'd been called
just wanting to roam free!
Music was his love not the riches and fame
enjoyment was the aim.

He had to roam a free spirit that was him
crowds overwhelming not his style!
Though friends wanted to start a band
not sure better on his own.
Writing what he felt within his being
his own future he was foreseeing.

Pressure applied the group was formed
the others realised his talent.
But hard to conform being with others
the one that made it special.
The central pin he always wanted more
yes the bands core!

This musician had these unique qualities
to find the defining sound.
But not the ability to take the pressure
needed for the long term.
At this point it was too early to detect
he had all their respect.

These truly talented greats are often loners
giving us music never to forget.
They rise way above the rest of the pack
pressures driving them to drugs!
Here regrettably the pattern did not alter
for this genius life did falter!

Success came after several years real toil
for this singer it was too much!
Drugs did take over as he lost the battle
many fellow artists tried to help!
Coordinating projects to give him a hope
like a carrot on the rope.

The singer gave one more huge performance
before going to his isolated home.
Wanting a chance to rest was his only reason
after three days the band broke in.
Where it was found he had committed suicide
a hand written note by his side!

The music the singer had created will never fade
only in his thirties but master of his trade!

The Foureyed Poet.

Drunk I can honestly say it has been rare
for me to be in this condition.
Enjoying a social drink causing no trouble
in moderation should be the rule.
There are those where ***** is an addiction
for them drink has no restriction!

Going out each week clubbing a regular ritual
start drinking before they leave.
Alcohol on board before they get to the clubs
already unsteady on their feet!
Some it would take little to start any trouble
many ending in dirt and rubble!

Unable to control emotions more likely the fist
as they cause injury and damage!
Inhibitions self respect are now long forgotten
vomiting and urinating on the streets.
Police are busy as their numbers ever deplete
every week it's the same repeat!

Many are drunk and oblivious of those around
in a deep unconsciousness mode.
Far too many ready to cause extreme violence
others die on their night out!
Casualty units are overflowing with drunks
who act no better than punks!

Liquor one of the most addictive potions
causing misery for all who succumb!
A social problem for the nation to confront
as young people see no harm!
Drinking more now than their parents do
that's the indicator things are blue.

Everything in moderation is my own motto
but life today has become a lotto!

The Foureyed Poet

A two two tier system of health is established
now you are asked private or NHS.
This could determine who lives or dies
relying on those with funds.
The quality of treatment depends on paying
if none your only hope is praying!

NHS patients it's a lucky dip for treatment
private no expense spared.
No matter how dedicated the doctors maybe
money is the pass code.
Pay avoid the endless hours on a waiting trolley
instant service if flash the lolly!

No more the fare care for all who enter within
moral has long been exhausted.
By the excessive dabbling of many governments
where no parliamentarian is poor.
And had no knowledge of the staffs dedication
now wanting their eradication!

With an amazing crew who were not listened to
or giving them back up or respect!
The health service now in the United kingdom
is doomed to be for the rich!
The rest of us will wait forever for care
that no longer can be there!

Once the worlds flagship for health care
now the example to be aware!

The Foureyed Poet.

Out there waiting like greedy scavengers
numerous heartless thieves!
Poised ready to scam us for our money
cloning credit and debit cards.
Until it's too late you have no idea
your money will disappear!

Saturated the plastic cards fill our lives
it's not safe to hand them over.
To many outlets as copies are easily made
and the heartache begins.
As others build up their debt in your name
and it can be hard to reclaim!

An army of crooks who find ways to take
mainly from those with little.
An under class who work hard to steal
and care not of their crimes!
Taking with violence and a cold pleasure
victims belongings their treasure!

The numbers are growing of merciless frauds
increasing their ill gotten hoards!

The Foureyed Poet.

I still ponder that day in nineteen eighty one
was that my time to die?
Yes so vivid in my mind how good it felt
laying in that hospital bed!
Feeling at peace without pain or remorse
as nature took its course!

After an operation about one week before
there left to bleed inside!
Then you never saw the consultant again
but for a female junior doctor.
Who observed I was getting very weak
worried the reason she would seek!

Back to the theatres urgently dispatched
where indeed inside I bled!
Just in time the flow was safely stopped
and four units of blood transfused!
Since that date nothing has gone right
was that the day to see the light?

Maybe it was meant for me to be here
with a purpose still to be made clear!

The Foureyed Poet.

Jemma always running from table to table
deep in thought as you scoot about.
Your reassuring presence is always felt
yet will spend time to laugh.
Always pleasant and willing to chat
customers think a lot of that!

You help create a nice place to come
working here and at home.
Often I think I couldn't do the job
all the hours on your feet.
Jemma part of the hard working team
you most of all are the cream.

Distinctive with your pony tail and earrings
and many more fantastic things.

The Foureyed Poet.

Often unnoticed the teenagers gathered
aimlessly sitting or roaming.
With cans of drink and mobile phones
few problems as numbers rise!
Their lives dwindling on the benches
creating their own urban trenches.

Out of control in the attitudes to the world
brought up to have it on a plate!
The latest technology and clothes on tap
is the centre of their lives.
Until now as the economy is in a mess
but luxuries they still caress!

Adults today afraid to reprimand them
as the kids know their rights!
Everyone scared to help them in anyway
because of child protection laws!
And possibly of assault or verbal abuse
ways must be found for a truce.

The young are sitting in towns and cities
what are they thinking today?
Is it only boredom and agitation they feel
thinking their misunderstood?
Drawn into the seedy side of a civilisation
that has lost its humanization!


Gangs running amok with their own rules
thinking the police are fools!
Rumblings of unilateral dissatisfaction
a risk of a fatal reaction!

The Foureyed Poet.

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.

As the body hit the wooden floor
he knew he'd gone to far!
Just as the argument had peaked
lashing out with his fist!
Walking out leaving her bleeding
when help she was needing.

Mercifully able to get on her feet
to sit on the leather seat.
Afraid that he would come back
not the first time he'd hit!
Always accepted he could get mad
realising now this was bad!

She started to shake shock had set in
the decision call the law!
Sounds from outside he was close
worried he was back for more!
As pain in her jaw began to gnaw
never before felt so sore!

He didn't care if she was dead
finding it hard to get out.
With urgency locking every door
aware he maybe too near!
Then the rear glass door smashed
through it her partner crashed!

Putting his hands around her neck
as two policemen came in.
He angry shouted she yelled back
the girl then lost consciousness.
Hours later alone in the hospital bed
first time in years without dread

How many women suffer prolonged abuse?

The Foureyed Poet.

I had never heard of devil black dogs before
until one night when I was twelve.
Living in a house we'd just moved into
my dad was away in the forces.
So my mum then was a little stressed
but with patience she was blessed.

Being the youngest with one older sister
it was odd now in my own room.
About ten thirty on a dark and cold night
scratching noises outside my room!
It got much louder so I had the urge to look
approaching the door handle shook!

Determined to be brave I grabbed the handle
forcing myself into the dim hallway.
At first I only heard a panting like sound
then a growl made me focus.
Two fiery red eyes a black dog stood there
it was so real to you I swear!

I had expected to be bitten or even clawed.
laying sobbing on the freezing floor!
My sister was first to come and find out
what the commotion was about.
Helping me up I glanced nothing was there
it certainly gave me a scare.

From then on my interest was aroused
what I had I seen it was so vivid/
A horrendous introduction to the unknown
now I still dread being alone.

Ther Foureyed Poet.

They saw him coming inside the car dealers
in stock a car that had to go.
When in walked the likely looking punter
to buy a vehicle at any cost.
Innocently he was reeled in with a good bait
a dodgy car deal was his fate.

He had to be a fool believing all they said
though it was a smooth salesman!
The car certainly looked shiny and new
as he got behind the wheel.
Taking it out for their special test run
it really was so much fun.

Blinded with figures for a final package
he signed the paperwork.
More than he wanted to pay he did say
still he accepted the price!
The staff trying not to laugh out loud
watching him go in a crowd!

Cheering as the car went out of sight
celebrating through the night!

Another successful dodgy deal!

The Fouryed Poet.