In area 51 they selected a large patch of desert
for their nuclear tests!
Fencing off the ground in a desolate spot
where they estimated.
The plutonium would come safely to rest
the experts knew best!

Many explosions were carried out in the fifties
no public knew the truth!
But one crucial fact about the contamination
as it lay in the dirt!
Worms were not bound by their fences
so undermining their defences!

How far would the plutonium have been taken
transporting the lethal load?
Birds to feeding on the worms in the earth
what was their contribution?
Too much secrecy and failed containment
and tax dollars spent!

It will end up destroying a once ****** earth
what now are the experiments worth?

The Foureyed Poet.

As they stared through night vision binoculars
lights lit up the desert.
A dark silent shape took off at high speed
the base was cloaked once more.
They stood many miles away on a distant hill
their mission they had to fulfil.

Watching the secret and famous classified base
risking detection even from here.
Their time had not been wasted as they saw
amazing aerial acrobats.
From yet another top secret flying craft
zooming in an up draft!

Are there man made unknown flying objects
or is it an alien intervention?
Countless sightings over many decades
reported without confirmation!
What truths lay hidden beneath the sands
controlled by secret hands!

The centre of our attention is area fifty one
in the Nevada desert.
So much mystery of fact and fiction
intrigue deepens each year!
Nothing confirmed and certainly denied
what do they really hide?

The Foureyed Poet.

A kind word or compassionate smile
means so much to a very lonely soul.
Who tries to be genuine and care
always willing to help and listen awhile.
Still trying to assess his life and role
yet always has a positive air.

Those who find it better to give than receive
can feel a deep sense of pride.
Not a saint or a martyr its true
only doing what they alone truly believe.
In thier minds knowing they've nothing to hide
determined to live each day through.

To love with your heart
a sparkle in the way you act.
Towards all that lives on earth
Appreciating each day from the start.
Trying to be kind and good is a fact
that we aim for from the moment of birth.

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.

There is always the chance it may happen
somehow you upset somebody.
Or they take a dislike to your manner
what you say or just a look.
The real risk your family could be hurt
puts your defences on alert!

Without knowledge things start to happen
phone calls with no answer.
Near misses while walking or in your car
thinking somebody is watching!
Escalating to the smashing of your window
whose the culprit you do not know!

A damaged car who can this person be
why this awful assault?
The police do not seem to be any help
proof is what they need!
But panic and fear grows to a high pitch
afraid to touch that light switch!

The end result maybe a fatal onslaught
with the circumstances terminal!
Not only property decimated around you
life to wiped out pointlessly.
A dreadful way for lives to be taken
their consciences forsaken!

Just who is out there looking at you
waiting to hurt and ****?
Why the anger we have not a clue
evil, fanatics or classed as ill?

Nobody is safe anywhere any more!

The Foureyed Poet.

A mother sat in front of a computer
her daughters laptop.
Watching that happy teenagers face
and the voice full of hope.
Still unable to accept she was dead
memories filled her head.

Her wonderful child had hung herself
because of bullying at school.
Kept it from her mum she had no idea
what had been going on.
Her daughter had left a diary to explain
expressing the hurt and pain!

She said her boyfriend wanted intimacy
was not ready for this.
Left frustrated and could not understand
later sent him a naked photo.
Not thinking just trying to make atonement
her true feelings she sent.

Over night became the centre of verbal abuse
had her boyfriend caused it?
The photo for everybody to see had gone viral
and life became hell!
Called awful names and in degrading graffiti to
terrible words so untrue.

The end came finding out her best friend as well
had passed on the filth.
Nobody to trust could not tell mum the truth
arriving home so low.
Pressure now too much her life span ceased
from the torment released!

A mother sat compelled to seek out the truth
that drove her daughter to take her own life!

The Foureyed Poet.

The horse stood healthy proud and tall
unaware of the journey ahead.
Roughly being pulled from her stall
on unstable ground to tread.
World war one would soon start
many families to be torn apart.

All over the horses were being bought
to be shipped to the impending war.
Fine strong animals the army sought
ever needing more and more.
This was a big event in this tiny village
to them it was official pillage.

In the crowd stood a lad brooding
the horse given to him as a gift.
Now he had to watch his eyes protruding
the auctioneer's hammer began to lift.
Within seconds quickly with a bang it fell
bitterly knowing he had to sell!

The army took charge of his eminent steed
not even allowed to say goodbye.
When they left his horse took the lead
he was not going to cry.
Ridden by a soldier almost his age
feeling the rising despair and rage!

The horses and men moved in slow motion
his heart sank what could he do?
Villagers to recruited with no notion
of where they were going to.
Determined to follow and bring her back
foolish but courage he didn't lack!

Weeks later at night Daniel crept out
his love for his horse so strong.
A perilous journey but for him no doubt
he could not see it was wrong.
Anaba his friend meaning return from war
this he would do on her back once more.

Yet unsure if he would return his tale to tell!

The Foureyed Poet.

An arctic wind is blowing not only by natures fury
winters getting more unpredictable.
Reflected in the uncertainty of human attitude
towards even their own families.
The chill spreading like an invisible veil
upon on the humanity of man.
Causing a depression amongst every culture
above us awaits the hungry vulture.

The usual story material gain is all that matters
wasted misspent squandered.
Why worry its public funds don't spend wisely
it could have given better roads.
Certainly prepared us for harsh winters today
more salt and gravel to spray.

The early freeze weather patterns changing
quality services not given.
Nature is in command man is powerless
to halt natures will upon us.
This does not deter some causing more woe
wanting to see nuclear mushrooms glow.

Increasing around the earth an arctic wind is blowing
the weather and economic depression is growing.

The Foureyed Poet.

A pure white feather floated to the ground
it made no sound.
Was this from my guardian angels wing
comfort to me bring.
Picking it up felt really soft and so pure
now lonely no more.

Or was this just my active imagination
creating this sensation.
Hoping angels were watching over me
that I could not seed.
Maybe fantasy yet nice to think this way
comforting each day.

In truth simple a molted bird feather
but hope that lasts forever.

The Foureyed Poet.

A simple pleasure that I enjoy
to sit and look about me.
With fervent beliefs to employ
just to be here and free.

Doing nothing but observe
absorbing with my senses.
Enjoying each turn and curve
as every moment commences.

No use of physical energy
let your mind roam.
Nobody's a friend or an enemy
viewing even from home.

All around there's love and hate
violence and peace.
Mingled in lifes big debate
as instability's on the increase.

Violence infiltrates our souls
nobody's immune from dying.
As life takes many roles
on each hope I'm not prying.

Trying to be in a neutral position
watching earthly evolution.
A bystander in natures mission
for which we have no solution!

A grain of sand in a desert
all I can be is alert!

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.

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!

It seemed so fitting a windy morn
saying goodbye to a friend
the draped coffin looked splendid
always kind words a smile
for him nothing bad ever said
he leavers a void instead.

For us all that moment will arrive
many avenues we tread
an allotted journey for each to face
reflecting on our time
some the trip is short full of pain
unable to takes life's strain!

Do we have a measured lifespan
when reached expire
joining our families in a heaven
souls reincarnated again
maybe ascend for infinity in space
part of natures atom race!

Creating the ever expanding universe
one day will we know the truth!

Or is there simply nothing?

The Foureyed Poet.

It was if I was transported back to my past
looking at the railway building.
You can sense the ghosts of a bygone age
when travelling was fun.
Clicking of wheels on the metal track
brings such happy memories back.

Through the Severn valley it chugged along
young and old enjoying the relaxing pace
Very romantic with the nostalgia of steam
passing stations as they use to be.
Signal boxes with all their manual levers
makes even sceptics believers.

Within thy minds eye nature engulfs you
on the train life is green not blue.

The Foureyed Poet

Through the barren ground there was hope
a tiny plant grew!
The drought wiped man from the earth
mined of all goodness.
Without water the human race declined
few were left to find.

Warnings ignored but the wealthy hoarded
while most were denied.
Rain became just a word in our history
so from billions alive!
Numbers fell to less than a hundred thousand
a child's cry a rare sound!

Two centuries went by the numbers dwindled
the earth like a huge prune!
Vegetation withered sand replaced fields
the seas paddling pools.
The survivors huddled in the many cool caves
the dying planets slaves!

Then that day early before the unbearable heat
two young humans saw.
Under a shaded rock overhang rarely visited
life they'd never seen.
How could it be growing in this dry soil
without water or toil?

Had nature at last regenerated starting to heal
the air seemed to blow.
A trickle of water bubbled up by the plant
the small group gathered.
Looking at the plant growing on barren land
each touched it with a hand!

What none knew was from an underground lab
in a secret city.
Genetically designed plants and creatures
were being unleashed!
Deciding earth's only purpose experimentation
before it's total deterioration!

Then the wealthy would move to a new earth
they'd found for their rebirth!

The man alone sat in the restaurant
as people talked about him.
Somehow he had become a real loner
nobody talked to him.
He never spoke to anybody close by
losing the will to try.

The man alone had not always been like this
he'd been married twice.
Blessed with four children and socialised
yet lacked something.
He was not considered a long term friend
lacking a chemical blend?

The man alone began to feel more depressed
watching others socialise.
What lay ahead the past didn't cheer him up
questioning his purpose.
Isolation was becoming more of an issue
his future not even he knew!

The Foureyed Poet.

Behind the glamour and blinding lights
of the vast entertainment industry.
With these so called beautiful happy folk
is there a sordid and bleak underworld?
As each one thinks they are certainly the best
surely time is the true quality test.

Vast sums spent to create the perfect image
the creators shown as almost godly figures.
All trying to grab the money and true fame
how many fall by the wayside in this quest?
In hard times the public have so little cash
to splash out on an even bigger bash.

Television pushing the seekers of their fortune
while the mentors strive for their own goals.
A false image is created for these large audiences
who to need a focus and images to contemplate.
Performances that for some takes a high cost
as the hopefuls fail their dreams lost.

There are of course winners and losers
but as you watch and read the news.
Filled with the exploits of these artists
spending and living lavish lives.
That most of us can only ever visualize
what really lays behind the lies?

The Foureyed Poet.

Behind the glamour and blinding light
of the vast entertainment industry.
With these so called beautiful happy folk
is there a sordid and bleak underworld?
As each one thinks they are certainly the best
surely time is the true quality test.

Vast sums spent to create the perfect image
the creators shown as almost godly figures.
All trying to grab the money and true fame
how many fall by the wayside in this quest?
In hard times the public have so little cash
to splash out on an even bigger bash.

Television pushing the seekers of their fortune
while the mentors strive for their own goals.
A false image is created for these large audiences
who need a focas and images to contemplate.
Performances that for some take a high cost
as the hopefuls fail the dreams lost.

There are of course winners and losers.
but as you watch and read the news.
Filled with the exploits of these artists
spending and living lavish lives.
That most of us can only ever visualize
what really lays behind the lies?

The Foureyed Poet.

Behind the wall three lads hovered
with intent on stealing petrol.
Ever ready to take rather than pay
it was more than two pounds!
For just a single litre of unleaded
could it be jail they were headed.

Not new at this dangerous business
risking not only being caught.
But the chance it could catch fire
they didn't care it was free
Fancy paying that much for car fuel
stealing now that was cool.

Motorists sruggling to fill their tanks
the cost was far too high!
But the government kept putting it up
the gangs adding to the misery.
As the population began to really tire
their patience about to expire!


A time comes when the limit is reached
the human spirit is breached!
To much is taken with little given back
then society is on an unsafe track!

Criminals always ready to con and steal
the public always losers in the deal!

The Foureyed Poet.

The man sat bills crumpled on the table
how was he going to pay?
Worked all his life always done his best
now had been laid off.
His wife had just left said couldn't cope
to her mums she did *****.

Their two children went with her as well
nothing he could do.
As the debt collectors hounded him daily
this was his lowest ebb.
Trying to find ways to pay what he owed
the strain in his eyes showed!

Within a few months he was on the street
now of no fixed abode.
The bailiffs came had done their duty
from a working man to this!
Reduced to sleeping where he could find
to his future was resigned.

Managed to get into a hostel for a night's break
and met a woman who cared.
Listened and offered to get his life in order
that was what he needed.
To give him hope and see his kids once more
again have his own front door.


Through finding that flickering guiding light
he helped others in a similar plight!

The Foureyed Poet

That joy at the birth of your child
the harsh reality of life
many children born into misery
where they struggle
to survive or get the love and care
no hope just despair!

That gift of life should be cherished
not allowed to die
born into poverty or loveless homes
neglected or forgotten
created through an act of violence
a child with no defence!

Just an unwanted living human being
given no love or compassion
around war torn places and poverty
families pushed around
like herds of frightened cattle driven
and no compassion given!

This may not be in countries of conflicts
children find no care
such awful crimes do happen anywhere
they are our future
and deserve the chance of a decent life
without constant strife!

Most children are wanted and happily grow
but too many that love never know!

The Foureyed Poet.

The droning above was so familiar
all the bombings not resolved.
There was nothing they could do
civilians targeted below!
Families lost with no mercy killed
deep hatred was instilled.

This was the only life they knew
childhoods never known.
Playing not with toys but with guns
not good for photo albums.
Living in ruins without basic needs
sectarian divides where it leads.

In many cultures it's passed down
can hardened attitudes change?
Is peace the outcome they really want
as elders remain entrenched.
What chance of future generations to seek
with strong unity that is meek!

Will we ever see unilateral peace?

The Foureyed Poet.

By the ruins of her home the child dazed
high winds had blown it down
terrified lost the behaviour crazed
nothing could save the town
from the force of natures mighty power
survivors could only cower!

Nature takes no sides without mercy strikes
that mankind cannot control
as the instruments alarm showing the spikes
millions pay the toll
as leaders battle to dominate in their wealth
affecting stability and health!

The pitiful sight of children and adults pleading
for basic necessities of living
increases as the climate begins to destabilize
yet sharing for many unforgiving
even images of devastation and the dead
on humanities path will not tread!

Those secure in their bubble of comfort and joy
should remember nature can easily destroy!

The Foureyed Poet.

At that moment my mind was not focused
caught my hand in a car door!
Intense pain thought I'd broken a finger
decided to go to casualty.
It was quiet as I entered in a lot of pain
knowing I'd have to explain.

The lady on the desk said I'd have to wait
hopefully not for long.
Surprised it was only about half an hour
saw a triage nurse.
Took me to a small cubicle to be seen
through a curtained screen.

I laid down on a couch resting my eyes
a sound made me aware.
Very surprised a nurse stood besides me
she was very pleasant.
Her uniform seemed an unusual style
not speaking for awhile.

Then she spoke in a soft gentle way
that made the pain ease.
Said I'b be fine touched my hand
such kindness no demand.
Went to thank her but she'd gone
surprised but felt strong!

Then another nurse came quickly in
to say I needed an x-ray.
Before the doctor was able to see me
could I follow her.
I said the other nurse had been kind
walking closely behind.

She turned telling me she was on her own
giving a description.
A blank expression she didn't work there
the uniform not used for years!
Very perplexed I said no more to her
but who was my nice comforter?

Was it pain making me hallucinate
or had it been a ghost?

The Foureyed Poet.

Excitedly she bought a hot mocha coffee
and sat happily down.
Wondering how long her boyfriend would be
in the cafe in town.
An hour passed now sipping a cold drink
where was he she began to think?

Her mobile stayed quiet no calls or messages
she patiently waited there.
Considering another drink beginning to worry
he had always contacted!
If there was a problem he would get in touch
she did love him so much.

Customers came in and went while she sat
in the end she left.
Tim was angry his car did not want to start
when he left work.
Knowing he was meeting Gill tried to ring.
mobile lost an odd thing!

Being quiet near he ran stopped by a mate
who kept him talking.
At last arriving at the cafe Gill had gone
felt really deflated.
Decided to have a latte coffee take a break
his love was not fake.

An important date had a question to ask
would she marry him.
Checked the ring was safely in his pocket
sitting a little fed up.
A tap on his shoulder Gill had come back
his plans were on track.

It was a lovely proposal and Gill said Yes.

The Foureyed Poet.

At first a few ornaments shook in the apartment
in that modern city block.
Complacent the warning ignored by the people
then a more violent shudder.
Running out fearing the buildings destruction
outside was total ruction!

Not from an earth quake they had first thought
but there had been a crash!
The unrecognisable craft fallen from clear skies
huge of an unknown design.
Fire and flames spread along a devastating track
there was no going back.

More appeared firing weapons into the fleeing crowd
masonry falling crushing many.
Helicopters gunships and fighter planes approached
being of no match to the foe.
On the ground weird creatures herded those unhurt
driving them precise and covert!

In those early days man had nothing ready to fight
to stop this alien massacre.
These battles were coordinated around the globe
an unprovoked desecration.
Secret protocols had been formulated by governments
on the possibilities of such events!

Satellite signals had been disrupted the attack a surprise
but the resistance had been planned.
Now to be implemented the fight back had begun
hidden basis and weapons brought onto line!
Powerful nations telling us aliens didn't really exist
yet were prepared for the time to resist!

The people don't really know what's going on!

The Foureyed Poet.

Was he going crazy had not been drinking
taken any drugs or ingested pills
yet certain his car had been parked here
contacted the duty attendant
also angry at the difficulty in locating him
after coming out of his local gym!

Eventually an irritated middle aged male
met him outside of his office
after returning from having his late lunch
followed this concerned driver
guided him back only to see it was there
in disbelief could only stare!

With a grunt the man left the confused driver
to ponder his sanity and eyesight
as still sweating he drove cautiously home
deeply puzzled at this latest glitch
these episodes had happened to him before
were these illusions he must not ignore?

Was this earth that he had known all his life
until now had believed it solid
realised matter was atoms tightly linked
but was it really a scientific fact
as increasingly objects were disappearing
could outside forces be interfering?

What was real anymore he thought glancing
around the street in which he lived
once in his house at the furniture and closely
at the fabric of his dwelling as well
was he alive or controlled by a puppet master
reality true or fabricated disaster!

Is what you wake up to each day and remember
actually happening or green screen images
an electronic society where anything can be made
by different types of artificial intelligence
can you be certain that the voice  or faces are real
on your devices is it truly the honest deal?

Be careful out there you never know whose observing!

#TheFoureyedPoet.

The second I broke into that house
hearing the cries of despair.
That vicious dog snarling at my heels
as the rest of my police unit.
Handcuffed the vicious man shouting abuse
pleading for mercy and a truce.

His poor wife just sitting and crying
fear etched upon her damaged face.
Comforted by a female colleague so calm
as a stillness began to fill the place.
It was not easy being focused on this case
she passed me at a slow pace.

The years of abuse were clear to see
two children cowered so scared.
Whimpering in their filthy bedroom
that sense of sadness was strong.
How glad I was to leave that awful scene
a home where love should have been.

I heard the wife had dropped the charges
so common in violent cases.
No doubt the problems would be repeated
and trauma started over again.
Both children removed for their own welfare
to those who would give real care.

Cries of despair can be heard out there
where so many suffer unaware.

The Foureyed Poet.

How often do we glance at the skies
either it's cloudy.
Or a bright clear pastel blue image
sometimes odd things to.
Within our vision this is what we see
are we alien free?

Unseen objects flying we just can't detect
only by infra red light.
Not by the naked eye are they visible
where they're from unknown!
One more of life's mysteries to brood
on this world to intrude!

As we **** each other and nations divided
are the skies busy?
Not with our rising air traffic but space craft
from another distant star.
Maybe from a different dimension or time lines
we don't recognise the signs!

On the internet there are many films shown
of craft flying around.
That our limited visual spectrum blocks out
observing you and me!
Is this phenomena real or simply a camera trick
surely the experts aren't thick?

Is there nobody there and it's imagination
none of the sightings real!
This I feel is certainly not the whole truth
something is very much near!
Gazing upon us as we upon ourselves spy
yet the question remains why?

The Foureyed Poet.

She Sat with her bank statements and other bills
mass of paper and debt
too easy spending using credit cards realising
after several years of denial
pressure from debt recovery firms increased
just wanting to be realised!

Eviction from her home was almost certain
yet still had the urge to spend
from a young age she never went without
brought up n a material way
never knowing hardship so grew to expect
with money came respect!

But those days went when her father died
and mother had a breakdown
committed to an institution and remained
leaving a young woman
totally unprepared for a harsh actuality
she to struggling with sanity!

Never making friends and the only child
the family home a trap
yet containing many happy memories
deepening the melancholy
beside her containers of different pills
some laying on the bills!

The doctor did not seem to understand
said take the medication
for a few weeks and return just a phase
was his not so wise words
leaving with her a dilemma unanswered
her desperation not heard!

In a daze took the tablets lonely confused
going onto a deep sleep
the mobile rang loudly it seemed distant
as her worries began to fade
it became bright and there was her dad
to be with him again so glad!

Debt would not bother her any more!

The Foureyed Poet.

A couple on holiday in Las Vegas city
decided to hire car.
And take a trip into the vast desert
objects they hope to see.
Hearing much about the secret base
their journey gathered pace.


Racing away from the city excitedly
without expectation.
But hoping there could be a sighting
for them to remember.
Excited with the anticipation and fun
roof down enjoying the sun.

Near the perimeter of the vast area 51
their car came to a stop.
Thinking the fuel had actually run out
stuck on the hard shoulder.
Sitting taking in the shimmering view
as in the sky a dot of light grew!

Becoming aware of this pulsating object
closing in on their position!
No noise could they hear as it got near
rapidly changing shape.
Then it was hovering above their heads
their nerves torn to shreds!

Now a reddish hue and an elongated form
they felt a searing heat.
It moved hovering above a sandy floor
for what seemed hours.
Afraid to move could only watch in awe
chilled to their bony core!

Within a blink it shot straight up and vanished
at incredible velocity!
Their hired cars engine just started once more
in shock got out of there.
Their desire had unexpectedly been fulfilled
but this show had not been billed!

That  day they were not the only witnesses
but no explanation was ever found!

The Foureyed Poet.

Despair is never far from the minds of many
in a society that revolves around money.
Nobody is immune from feeling deeply low
when nothing can brighten your day.
Desperation drives more of us to gamble
hoping for that win onward we ramble.

Competitions and the lottery we play
spending our few resources on hope.
There are those they say the lucky ones
who do win but some can't cope.
Pressures abound as costs keep rising
more end their lives it's not surprising.

When you hear of another big winner
it's hard not to envy their fortune.
knowing how many entries you made
despair is often overwhelming.
But it's a vicious cycle a hollow dream
as people pursue to the extreme.

Spending their lives in perpetual torment
trying to win the big money.
Which becomes an obsession in their family.
in which nothing else matters.
And misery is all that they remember
to each and every family member.

Wealth surely goes beyond material gain
despair has no boundaries of pain!

The Foureyed Poet.

Countless witnesses saw them materialize
in the late evening skies.
Not any type of planes seen before
no earthly flying machines!
About six is what seemed perfectly clear
each coming uncomfortably near.

Other sightings reported but not like these
a dazzling display as one dived.
Crashing with an explosion then ball of fire
fire engines were deployed.
Tackling the immense blaze they were puzzled
being told any talk was muzzled.

Damping the hot embers they found creatures
never seen here before!
Alive on the burning scorched ground.
small with big red eyes.
Clawed hands and horns on the head.
were they something to dread?

The firemen captured one in a net
what was happening here?
They took it to the hospital injured
not wanting to touch.
Medical staff repulsed at its vision
what could be done the decision!

The other lights went out and were gone
a curfew then imposed.
Stories were rife of devils in the wild
the government denied it was so!
Mistaken identity the reason given
once again the truth hidden!

From the start the military took over
like Roswell facts changed quickly!
Reliable sources gagged or somehow died
rumors of a plane taking evidence
Out of the country to a specific destination
adding disturbing speculation!

So the mystery deepens what is going on
people know something is wrong!

WHAT!

As these were likely the alien crafts cargo
not the crew so the conspiracy will grow!

The Foureyed Poet

As if directed by dark unseen forces
spreading from an acrid domain
flames ignited consuming everything
flames ignited consuming everything
once arid forests and homes
swiftly succumbed to the raging fires
rising into black smoke spires!

Devouring all living matter in its wake
nothing sacred with such heat
those grasslands now totally destroyed
nothing left but smoldering ashes
in communities no matter their prestige
as each became under siege!

Ferocious and hungry any daylight masked
their lungs gasping to breath
trapped as they perilously tried to escape
the routes to safety fading
facing ahead death anguish and disbelief
victims united by loss and grief!

From the ashes soon comes another dawn!

#TheFoureyedPoet.

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.

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.

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 real a dream can be
when your mind has no limits
a spirit wandering free
with no human laws to bar you
paradise and exotic places
where you can find happiness
without fear of reprisal
pleasant dreams to nightmare
time and space ours at last
the physical body no resting
travel to the future or past
be in a blockbuster the big hero
or the villain even a pop star
limitless imagination to explore
what we see is for us alone
personal dreams only we own!

The Foureyed Poet.

The droplets of rain fell on your pale arm
a wonderful lady there within.
Soft and warm your touch on my face
wrapped in your shawl of lace.
A smile to warm anybody's beating heart
no way did I want to part.

That smile so bright you couldn't feel sad
with you nobody could be mad.
Like your lipstick that smouldering red
blue eyes that said take me to bed.
An angel in human form is what you felt
as beside you I knelt.

The rain making you glisten in the day light
such an amazing sight.
But in the back of our minds we both knew
was fresh like the morning dew.
Then the time came when we had  to part
that did break my heart.

I had to go off to war on the early train
knowing you would remain.
As our love we passionately expressed
together tightly we caressed.
Knowing pat of me I was leaving behind
certainly one of a kind.

That feeling starting to drive me insane
we would not meet again.
At the station parting I got on the train
from sad thoughts did refrain.
Kissing your lips for that one last time
saying I love you in mime.

This image I remembered as I was dying
tears of joy crying.
Now alone you sit on my military grave
from heaven I frantically wave
Excitedly knowing the day will soon arrive
when together our love to revive!

Again droplets of rain fell on your pale skin.

The Foureyed Poet

They said there was a drought water was short
not enough for domestic use.
At first declaring it was nobody's fault
it had not rained for a long time!
Committing an offence by using a hose pipe
truthfully was a load of tripe.

Water companies are making a financial killing
everyone encouraged not to waste water.
More fancy gadgets the public would be willing  
to buy water use multiplied.
As the buzz was building more on any land
telling us there was a demand!

Thousands of houses built was there a big need
statistics only the government held.
Groups tried protesting for it not to proceed
but fields were still built on.
Heavy rains came with more depleted drainage
so did the despair and rage.

A state of increasing taxes with nothing to show
more became classed as poor.
Communication with voters becoming very slow
the authorities had a strangle hold!
As the ban on a non existent drought dragged on
more doubters joined the throng!

Was there a danger of a growing national threat
from people against the elite.
Basking in luxury as the masses increasing in debt
the drought added more fuel.
Restrictions taking away their dignity it turned sour
there would be a defining hour.

Or is this just a modern nightmare tale?

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

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's easy to imagine your not alone
in an empty silent room.
Sitting still in a camp chair waiting
for any sounds or movement.
Next calling out is anybody there
risking giving yourself a scare.

Often in the darkness with a torch
as you feel that coldness.
Was that somebody touching your hair
sounds to can easily deceive.
Giving our imaginations plenty to digest
seeking ghosts their time to invest.

Spending hours in different locations
there are those who don't believe.
Others who do looking to seek out more
many methods and beliefs mingle.
As they each explore this unknown field
hoping to find that elusive yield.

Nobody is certain what is real or not
theories abound on life after death.
Famous people said they would return
leaving behind a secret code.
Those holding this are aging and waiting
with all the psychics still debating.

True or false do spirits really exist
if we knew it would stop the hunt.
Maybe somebody does and won't say
is it when we're dead we're dead!
Mediums are tricksters putting on an act
can this really be the fact?

Is this an elaborate myth as many think
or will it turn out to be true? I wonder!

The Foureyed Poet.

The young girl walked very slowly
down a crowded and noisy street.
Head bowed feeling alone and lowly
not wanting to talk shuffling her feet.
Dejection showed on her pretty face
looking much older than her years.
Yet another statistic lost without trace
in the dingy streets where evil appears.
Each day filled with such deep despair
forced to be abused just to survive.
Feeling no decent human was out there
not caring whether she was dead or alive.
Sixteen years had passed Elli by
parents had throwing her out at fourteen.
Confused and upset giving up wondering why
learning how life could be so mean.
Met a man she thought was so nice
but he introduced her to drugs.
Which led within a short time to vice
he was a **** one of the many thugs.
Deep in the rut unable to escape
just felt death was her only escape.
Desperately she called a good mate
who unknown to her had joined the police.
Through powerful inner strength and will
she broke away from this bottomless pit.
Now a happy eighteen year old no longer ill
she survived to tell the tale happy and fit.

The Foureyed Poet.

A Strong sense of unease fills my mind and soul

my body trembles is it fear or the cold night

looking around at seemingly quiet streets

what waits in this darkness that engulfs me

once feeling safe and secure now I want to flee

evil exists all about in the form of human beings

cruel calculating driven by what often a mystery

few cause so much misery and horror in society

overpowering subtle in their persuasive false way

most want to live peacefully keeping evil at bay

do  you not feel it to that unseen lingering unease

always there ready to attack like a viral disease!

The Foureyed Poet.

The excitement built as I approached the station
you could smell the smoke from the engine.
Before you entered the stations enticing doors
you could see the shunter's in the sidings.
Black smoke and steam rising blending into one
the joy of the impending journey had begun.

Our memories are often all we have left
of the days we were young as age creeps on.
Bad thoughts fade as you only think of the good
steam trains dominated when I was a lad.
Boys then all wanted to be the driver of the train
in the early days of Elizabeth's reign.

Far less roads and motor vehicles to pollute
the countryside was ****** more rural.
An era when trains had more lines to travel
a pleasure for everybody to go roving.
A special treat to get people to the coast
an adventure not something to boast.

Looking at the chaos around us now
my young days were glorious.
Before the innocence was drained in the ether
simplicity the key to sanity.
A day train spotting was the weekend treat
then was very hard to beat.

The holiday to the Isle Of Wight by steam train
then across on the ferry I remember.
When my special mother was there very much alive
the past is the past now my memory.
Unique I learned I am not, millions feel the same
staring at a faded picture in an old frame.

Rekindles that long gone excitement.

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.

Facing that massive audience on the big stage
gave him that overwhelming dignity.
Struggling for how many years hard to recall
sheer willpower and that passion.
To develop his act as a singer who cared
for the many fans this night he shared!

Before he started he could hardly breath
such a loud roar hit his entire being!
Energizing and making this experience complete
the mass of colour and sound.
No short cuts on reality type talent shows
he himself suffered the highs and lows!

This the pinnacle of his own success
nerves aside this moment to cares!

The Foureyed Poet.

In the shadows it stood fangs dripping blood
a spectre of evil observing!
After midnight on a still crowded walkway
camouflaged in a vantage point.
Dressed in a long black coat eager to proceed
a vampire needing to feed!

That urge to hunt and track unsuspecting prey
gave it such a morbid thrill!
Leaving no clues after each savage ****
ripping flesh with its fangs.
Instinct indicating a second feed was near
their heartbeat he could hear.

A lone woman walked at an increasing pace
down a dark muddy lane.
After a row with her drunken boyfriend
distracted in her thoughts.
Too fast for any screams or make a break
as her life it did take!

Long sharp fangs sank deep into her soft flesh
soon he had his fill for now.
Lacking emotion he left her there satisfied
that this hunt was done.
Back into the dank shadows it retreated
tonight's feast completed!

Licking the blood off it's fangs! Vanished!

The Foureyed Poet.

He sipped that ice cold drink so refreshing
outside of a quaint cafe.
Watching the people particularly the girls
tapping the table he was tense.
This his first mission as a covert operative
trying to be positive.

Just told to expect a package to be delivered
nothing more disclosed.
His earpiece buzzed as a young woman sat
placing her coffee down.
Using trigger words in their conversation
she responded without evasion.

Getting up she smiled politely saying goodbye
then quickly went away.
Under her saucer he saw a piece of paper
pulling it out he read.
Look under my side of the coffee table
difficult as it was unstable.

Nearly tipping it over pulling the sticky tape
being firmly held.
Concealing it trying not to look awkward
joining a passing group.
Concerned there was somebody stalking
he started quickly walking!

His fears were confirmed when he heard a pop
a bullet fired close by!
Through a silencer then there was another
taking evasive action.
Informing the surveillance team in the van
then into the underground he ran!

Planning a route for his own safe escape
he knew the terrain.
Finding the spot he had put a gun and torch
now he was prepared.
Shaking from the cold and possibly fear
there were footsteps near!

As they came along side he jumped out
the bright beam on.
At the same time firing his magnum gun
a grunt and a thud.
Then at his feet a body laid motionless
no emotion did he express!

He informed the team of what had occurred
continuing with his task.
Others could be close behind for the cargo
so delivery was vital.
The destination was at last radioed through
knowing what he had to do!

First mission and first blood his career had begun!

The Foureyed Poet.