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.

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.

Going back to the place of my early youth
was a big mistake.
Remembering the luscious meadows
air so clean singing birds.
Country lanes a small running stream
sound of an engine of steam.

The thick dark smoke billowing behind
through unspoilt land.
Our heritage there for everybody to enjoy
small villages and hamlets.
Animals of all kinds living without threat
no sounds of a passing jet!

Shocked at what  I saw and what time had done
no more the countryside.
Where such beauty had been a trading estate
the small town an urban mess.
No trees the stream now under a motorway
an unkempt park in which to play!

Traffic and fumes now filled my sad gaze
as I compared my memories.
And the happy days then safe to explore
all of our natures graces.
Standing on what was once a grass hillside
now under houses this did hide!

This seems the way of life today!

The Foureyed Poet.

It is said that in each and every person
there is goodness within.
This to me I find is not easy to believe
as some are evil!
Not a hint of there being anything within
just filled with sin!

It is said that we show mercy to others
this I have often not seen.
Cruelty and torture always in the news
misery suffering everywhere!
Not that I can see any hint of mercy there
many humans don't care!

It is said we have love and understanding
willing to give to others.
All I see is selfish self centred humans
interested only in themselves.
Caring only for money no matter the cost
many good people lost!

It is said there are genuine people about
this I am sure is true.
Willing to give everything wanting to help
not out to use others.
Those with that goodness we must treasure
their worth we can't measure!

The Foureyed Poet.

Why are there governments today so blinkered
and so narrow minded?
Intent on power and their self preservation
ignoring those suffering!
Amongst the people they should safely rule
but often oppressive and cruel!

Millions of refuges forced to flee across borders
unwanted into other countries.
Causing more threats and possibility of escalation
Because they have their troubles to.
that endless cycle of never ending brutality
will remain a shocking reality!

A process to most of the humans that's unacceptable
when these wars spread!
With nuclear weapons that could be used
where nobody can win.
But through this misery to many do proceed
it's the psychopathic breed!

Our society still survives but with uncertainty
at what could happen.
World finances crashing more becoming poor
yet even more billionaires.
Anger and discontentment begins to fester and blow
what happens tomorrow we don't know!

If these government attitudes stay the same
when it happens none will take the blame!

But of course by then it will be too late!

The Foureyed Poet.

From the top of the steep sloping green hills
they sat relaxed on horseback to marvel
in awe at the natural beauty of unspoilt land
uncorrupted by the destruction of progress
taking away the virginity of the landscape
where creatures safely interacted unharmed
by callous hands in pursuit of immoral gain
the countryside balance they did not retain!

With no tall grotesque buildings to sully the view
nor chimneys from factories that regularly
spewed more deadly toxins to choke our lungs
then the air above clear from human impregnation
from more suspected elements of depopulation
weather harsh but the seasons were well defined
there before pollution and technology encased
our lives and the nightmare future to face!

#TheFoureyedPoet.

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.

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.

Another year has come to a violent end
yet again the people do not disappoint
death destruction chaos misery abound
nothing different to those times before
as always nature the master of mankind
with other malicious forces is entwined!

Another unknown year is about to start
here we go again into the twilight zone
full of uncertainty where nothing is clear
so may I just add Happy New Year!

#TheFoureyedPoet.

Approaching the prison the weather changed
no longer sunny.
Dark clouds and penetrating drizzle fell
as they arrived on site.
The team had come to do an investigation
standing with hesitation!

They had been here before but it seemed different
an undercurrent this was new!
An invisible barrier none wanted to go through
a veil of hate!
Something none of them had noticed before
walking onto the granite floor.

A smaller group this time only six could come
what had changed here?
Sounds echoed close by a temperature drop
movement seemed all around!
They set up cameras with night vision mode
from a corner a bright dot showed!

Watching mesmerized it began to grow bigger
moving towards them!
One group member felt pain in their stomach
collapsing on the floor.
The light just went out as each closely observed
not a sound was heard!

They were all sitting in the upper cell block
just after one in the morning!
When from inside a cell a voice began to call
there a figure stood!
One turned and saw it each followed the stare
now each was aware.

That night none were brave and ran out together
a deep voice bellowed.
Making them scream shout and swear in unison
now the investigation team.
Stood outside nobody would re-enter the jail
in torch light each very pale!

After awhile one plucked up the courage to go back
and retrieve the equipment.
Entering cautiously nothing seemed wrong
grabbed the cameras and got out!
On reviewing there were no images on the footage
though a voice full of rage!

The group knew they would have to come back!

The Foureyed Poet.

Now when I think of Hayley it gives me
that vision of my future
nearly three years since we first met
never did we realize
how deep our love and commitment
with her I am content.

Together we have a truly special love
being friends for so long
but realizing our interests matched
drew us ever closer
always there by my side for support
my heart firmly caught.

Temporally apart we are getting engaged
a ring on your finger will place
on a warm sunny beach our love to seal
a dancer beautiful and kind
working so hard to achieve the dream
to be a ballerina supreme.

Our special song I Will Always Love you
and forever I will be true.

The Foureyed Poet.

She knelt by the dark grey  marble headstone
once again on the anniversary
of the day she had happily buried her husband
six feet down in the ground
eight years since she had caused his demise
for a man she did despise!

As the widow gloated behind a false facade
the same figure watched
behind her the deceased husband stood
turning could not see him
thinking once again how good and thrilling
never a suspected killing!

No idea her good life would come to an end
as supernatural forces gathered
this time he followed her back to a plush car
the long dead husband was back
what had changed to allow him the power
to be back at this hour!

Angry sat next to the wife who murdered him
driven back to his own home
familiar items brought back good memories
from when he lived here
now a ghost haunting the house he loved
before down the stairs shoved!

Whether there is a heaven or a place called hell
he had prayed so very hard
from a dark pitiless limbo it changed to hope
now with a new man argued
started by the woman who had meant so much
now he would loath to touch!

****** to the floor berating of him was bored
scrambling to her feet ran
up those familiar stairs shouting more abuse
pursued by this enraged man
like a replay saw her violent death as she fell
her neck broken he could tell!

Instantly was at peace free no longer in turmoil
a tunnel so bright he could see
looking down at her lifeless body he passed on
but a faceless evil took her soul
engulfing it for that overdue journey to hell
righteousness had created this spell!

Jutsice it seems had at last been done!

The Foureyed Poet.

That familiar sound of a helicopter approaching
out of nowhere its search light focused.
Down onto a desolute and lonely moorland
quickly joined by a second one.
But what is the true intention of their task
as a figure looks up wearing a mask.

No ordinary being sitting there in isolation
as soldiers approach with guns.
Nearby a circular craft of unknown origin
lays damaged amongst the grass.
Away from the view of a watching public
the covert operation is slick.

Taken alive the alien is roughly removed
put into a third chopper nearby.
Two other bodies are bagged and tagged
the sight is cleared of any evidence.
Reports of an object seen falling denied
once again the military have lied.

How many incidents have really occured
the public know nothing about?
The real truth of an extra terrestial existence
rather than endless misinformation.
Was Roswell fact or fiction what is area fifty one
when will the real truth be done?

The Foureyed Poet. The Foureyed Poet

Hidden behind the huge music festival
are areas where the wealthy stay!
No cheap tents or smelly toilets for them
they have luxury motor homes.
Air conditioning and laid down track
never wet clothes on their back!

In this part a mystery unfolded
as a death was discovered!
Reasons not given of what happened
while the music played on.
Those with too much money and fame
carried on their visibility game!

Orchestrating what they want you to see
fed from their publicity machine.
Thinking each is more important than the other
those with little give them the most!
What does go on out of the general publics eye
floating in a world of the living lie!

Is a music festival the place to be seen?

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.

The actor was so thrilled to be offered a part
uneasy that two suited men
told  him he had to sign a binding contract
no disclosure or go to prison
realised there was no choice had to agree
but offered him a huge fee!

Pressurised signed was told to wait for a call
they would not disclose details
life put on hold regretting that offer of work
could not contact agency
what had he committed to it blew his mind
wishing time he could rewind!

Several days later his house phone rang
a voice gave a short message
outside ten minutes apprehension grew
picked up his bag and waited
at precisely the time stated a van arrived
from then on freedom was deprived!

A side door shot open abruptly told to enter
once inside the vehicle sped away
within not alone three other men squatted
nobody spoke on that journey
what seemed like hours being thrown about
he was filled with fear and doubt!

At last it stopped they were greeted by a man
smartly dressed and well spoken
apologised  for covert action and no information
found themselves in a large hangar
on one side changing rooms and catering truck
it dawned on him here they were stuck!

It was cold as they were shown to a huge room
chairs were placed facing a screen
sitting the smart man went to the front lingered
until they were all quietly seated
explained he was the director of this project
with those present was about to connect!

From behind them armed guards now entered
please do not be alarmed he said
they are here for our protection and security
you have been chosen to participate
in a conspiracy that must never be exposed
the screen lit up the secret disclosed!

Images of a barren landscape was dispalyed
this is the set built-in this hangar
here the moon surface has been recreated
because we are going to hoax
for the want of a better word the moon landing
with astronauts on surface standing!

This is the first meeting of our brave flight crew!

Just another conspiracy theory?

#TheFoureyedPoet.

Honestly I do love you Jill
well maybe it's lust.
Ah what did I say your still
as beautiful it's just.
Well we all age with time
it's not a crime.

Honestly I do feel the same
how we met was odd.
An accident I took the blame
when on your foot I trod
Did not see you with the tray
then on the floor you lay.

Tripping over you with my drink
staining your new dress.
At the time what I said I didn't think
you already looked a mess.
It was really taken out of context
you were very vexed.

But we put that all behind us
our first anniversary.
I know you don't want a fuss
it's not true it was scary.
Honestly the year has been great
though this I could debate.


Sorry Jill just a slip of my thoughts
you are my lovely wife.
I like it when you wear your **** shorts
it's a compliment on my life!
Yes I'll lower my voice in the restaurant
if that's what you want.

Her's to our second year together
no I'm not looking at that lady!
Well alright I do work with Heather
there's nothing shady.
Honestly there's nothing between us
why are you making a fuss?

Surely it's best to drink the wine
not throw the bottle at my head!
Honestly Jill I'm innocent your divine
you're going home to bed?
Please stay I've booked us into to a hotel
you don't mean go to hell!

Please don't go I'll get the bill and pay
shame you threw the cake.
To much drinking is that the reason
or is our marriage out of season?

Here's looking forward to another year
honestly I do love you dear!

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.

Into the cinema complex they crowded
excited at seeing the horror movie.
One couple had a foreboding sensation
entering through the glass doors!
Eager to enjoy the brand new complex
their situation was vex!

They had not been in here ever before
never encountering this oppression.
Quickly that packed area soon thinned out
as the ticket staff let them in.
Each screen room was rapidly filled
a new concept in horror was billed!

Noises like chains rattling behind
certain they had seen monsters!
Trying to laugh it off as only imagination
making their way to a screening.
But to afraid to enter even open the door
something creaked on the floor!

Retreating back to where they had come
not a soul was in the entrance!
Rapid movements seem to be in the shadows
as a creatures lunged at them!
Terrible screams which way to run
not their idea of fun.

A sudden crescendo of noise and blind panic.
as ****** people came into sight!
Flesh torn bodies they were being pursued
by werewolves with a hunger!
Three D images coming from every angle.
hundreds in a nightmare tangle!

The friends nearly trampled into the carpet
as zombies ravaged nearby.
Fearing for their lives trapped in the mayhem
heading for the exit.
From video game machines soldiers appeared
the whole situation was wierd!

They went after all the surrounding creatures
smashed the glass and let them out1
As all the chaos spilled onto the forecourt
there was a blue haze and silence.
The friends were standing in the cinema carpark
one had a premonition so stark!

Looking at the poster of the horror movie
they thought it best not to go in!

The Foureyed Poet.

Somebody reminded me of the house
so picturesque serene on it's own.
Twisting narrow single track lanes
made the visits such a pleasure.
Where sounds and vision were unique
somewhere many would like to seek.

Isolation was what my family wanted
not blocked in by endless buildings.
Transport was walking or a horse and cart
a lot can change through the decades.
The once small town then started to grow
at first the expansion was slow.

Actually the house still stands today
regrettably not in that lonely plot.
Houses and trading estates now border
forever only a special memory.
Realizing the countryside has vanished
where green fields are banished.

Progress is not always the best way forward!

The Foureyed Poet.

The howl should have warned me
but first it did not register.
That day amazingly tranquil
not a cloud polluted the blue
The sky high above my head
that's when I should have fled.

Miles of moorland was the scene
freedom had a fresh meaning.
Sheep and ponies roamed freely
without pollution I carried on.
Then the illusion was shattered
when the animals scattered.

A violent blow struck my back
falling into the course grass.
Blood tainted the spot where I fell
it was mine I realised then the pain!
What had attacked me had gone
but it was vicious and strong.

I must have passed out now it was dark
yet I was still alive but hurt.
Cold very scared oozing and sore
it was hard to actually move a tall.
Again I heard that pitiful howl
or as I hoped only a lonely owl.

As darkness blanketed the moors
the moons glow lit up my path.
Now knowing werewolves existed
those gashes in my flesh so sore.
Unable to go on any further drained
somehow my sanity was maintained.

I awoke once more to warm daylight
how I walked was just a blur.
Arriving at a clump of trees by a stream
there I saw a young woman.
Surprised to see me she sat quietly there
with a hidden dread I could only stare.

Before I could speak she had gone away
on the ground my torn jacket lay.

I now dread the full moon each month!

The Foureyed Poet.

That feeling of being trapped in his own home
unable to go far.
Alone and now afraid to pick up the telephone
why do so many ring?
I can't afford it he tried to mention
relying on his pension.

Yet the persistent aggressive and rude men
continued to phone him up.
Now in his seventies what could he do
nobody seemed to care.
Struggling to look after himself nowadays
on the elderly the villain preys!

So here he sat few visitors entered his home
almost forgotten by most.
Yet the calls continued to hound and pursue
they didn't listen to his words.
He had no money yet they continued to ring
treated as just a thing!

Yesterday he didn't answer the telephone
depressed he'd gone to the spiritual zone!

The Foureyed Poet.

Through out his life in and out of debt
and never ending regret!
Who can he blame nobody but himself
one of those without wealth.
Worked for everything owned in life
like most moments of strife.

Working for fifty years for his pension
not very much to mention.
Respect for the elderly does not exist
statistics today insist.
They keep raising the age we can retire
hoping the people will expire!

Those who have money the pensions great
not for them the NHS wait!
Though it's easy for everybody to moan
each day is the unknown!
Times may seem hard in this day and age
what's on man's next page?

The Foureyed Poet.

Deserted on the side of the road
at first I thought it was rags.
Curiosity made me go and see
a whimper and moving paw.
Shocked there lay an injured dog
next to a blood stained log!

The tears ran not good for a man
a pathetic bundle of life.
I could not leave the animal there
thrown away without care.
What human could be that cruel
for them no humane rule!

A chill ran through me as I lifted
with a clumsy nervous gate.
Placing the vexed dog on my coat
as sad eyes gazed at me!
Soon in a veterinary waiting room
as a parent feeling the gloom.

I often go by that spot on my trips
the dog is well and by my side.
So sweet laying asleep on the seat
alert when we pass the spot.
Jennie her name we are a pair
contented with shiny hair.

How many animals are never found
and die alone on waste ground?

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.

I once belonged to a paranormal group
just wanting to see a *****.
Sitting for hours in buildings in the dark
even in a country park.
At first it was fun and a fantastic team
but now a faded dream.

Plenty of investigations to get that thrill
but I am waiting still.
To see a single shadow or spectral entity
or was I too thick to see?
Being an ordinary guy the fun was gone
as technology came along.

From investigations as a tight working unit
technology became the remit.
And in the end I felt like a bystander
the equipment handler.
Unable to embrace the wonders of science
or it's clever appliance.

It must have been seven years I was involved
the problems never resolved.
Hoping for a positive and rewarding result
a little proof sought.

With regret that period in my life has passed
but a wider net is now cast.
My interest in the paranormal is very strong
and new adventures I long!

Thus my personal journey carries on!

The Foureyed Poet.

Is our society evolving guided by our own hand
cruelty and destruction accepted quietly?
As if a totally normal part of our daily toil
those working trying to pay the bills.
Encouraged to buy what they can't afford
increasing debt misery is assured!

Others they want but have no credit rating
the message you must have money!
The gap widens as those big bucks go to the few
envy and resentment grows!
Hope can only come with more shared accord
when interest replaces being bored!

Don't cut the budget is what the ***** shout
but it falls on deaf ears!
Through excessive governments bad policies
greed and material wealth rules!
An ideology buried deep within western thinking
now spreading thought patterns linking.

The cliff edge is very close stop now or fall
should be the warning to us all!

The Foureyed Poet.

I seem to wander like a lost soul
no longer knowing what is my role.
Divorced and alone it must be said
with a deep seated sense of dread.
This mood has started to linger
the reason I'm unable to finger.

Not able to settle whatever I do
at home or out always being blue.
Alone and unable to be at rest
it feels like I'm losing a test.
Lost not synchronised out of tune
in a never ending sand dune.

I want to engage in what's around
lack of passion like a restless hound.
All I wanted to achieve is in the past
as the days are rushing away too fast.
Panic has set in where do I turn
in the end to be wanted I yearn.

I seem to wander lost within myself!

The Foureyed Poet.

Is life new from our start
a clear sheet at birth.
Or yet another added part
if reincarnated on earth.

Is it just one visit here
for us to get it right?
To most this isn't clear
do we go into the light?

Do we have a purpose here
academics this considered.
Can religions make it clear
before our bodies withered!

Heaven must be a crowded place
with all the souls there.
Could this be in outer space
or another slot they share.

Do legends have real meaning
ancient text and fairy tales.
Somebody has been scheming
we've been fed false trails!

Occult magic and other arts
is there a real mystery?
In our brain unused parts
missing sections of history.

So much we just don't know
and believe what we're told.
What next insight will show
a date for life to fold?

So many unanswered questions
as this planet turns.
Loads of speculative suggestions
as the sun brightly burns!

What is the real truth?

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.

Their relationship had been torn apart
by his growing jealousy
certain his childhood sweetheart shared
her love with another male
once the thoughts were embedded within
a brooding hate did begin!

Always that chance of a love turning sour
when two humans matched
trust can be a hard emotion to control
if their connection is frail
misunderstanding is a dangerous mood
where thoughts become crude!

From the passions of a close tender embrace
to the loathing of that person
where instead of wanting to love and protect
the wish is only for harm
as often those closest are the most feared
if loving feelings disappeared!

This couple split with misconstrued jealousy
the boyfriend assaulted a friend
accusing him of sleeping with his girlfriend
terminating in a jail sentence
ending his long relationship with his soul mate
realising the mistake too late!

There is only a silk thread between love and hate
just one more human trait!

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.

She laid on the varnished wooden floor observing
nothing seemed different.
The children played and jumped on her back
as normal sighed getting up.
Walking away keeping a quiet presence
the love for her immense.

Part of the family they had called her Jess
not one of the illegal breeds.
A golden labrador with a gentle nature
but on that day it changed!
An urgent call to the police was received
the scene they hadn't perceived!

Jess sat calmly on the wooden front porch
covered in blood wagging her tail.
Inside the house two badly mutilated bodies
as if attacked by a savage beast!
They heard children whimpering nearby
an awful sobbing cry.

Two children were found in a walk in wardrobe
both in a state of shock.
Jess offered no resistance when she was handled
licking and barking loudly.
The Police were very wary putting her in a cage
there was no sign of rage.

The dwelling was sealed the children taken to safety
after tests it was proved.
Jess had killed her owners the only witnesses told
of their friend going crazy!
The once beloved pet was quickly put to sleep
sadness in the county was deep!

It was never disclosed that in the dogs blood sample
an unknown virus was found.
But it just disappeared before its origin was traced
so the mystery remained.
The case was closed a tragic accident and filed away
until the following Sunday!

Now the authorities began to fear the worst!

The Foureyed Poet.

Joe that name sounded like a spell
that morning I felt like hell.
Without sleep the night before
then I could take no more.
Mugged on the way to a party
my demeanour was hearty.

Dragged into an alley then hit
waking I could not sit!
Afraid and shaking nobody about
all I could do was call out.
Then I heard a soft soothing sound
looking up glad to be found.

I gasped had an angel rescued me
this lady by me I could see!

She said her name was simply Joe
blood on my head flowed.
As we came to a small street cafe'
sitting as I started to sway.
Charming Joe's smile so warm
made me feel I'd ride the storm.

Silly now I asked her was she real
though Joe's softness I could feel.
I was just somebody travelling by
when I heard your pleading cry!
I could not leave you there alone
not enough compassion shown!

Joe helped me making sure I was fine
asking her to my home she declined.
Giving my number would she ring
about her I didn't know anything.
But as Joe had come she had gone
to this day for her I long!

Was Joe an angel hearing my cry
or a Samaritan chancing by?

The Foureyed Poet.

How had he found himself in this dungeon
a knight thrown in here.
Sent by his king on his first secret mission
true he was dressed as a peasant.
Harshly he'd been treated a new experience
but not regretting being sent.

This awful place never inside one before
an eye opener for him.
Here he couldn't stay had to escape
report back to the king.
Noticed a sharp piece of wood at hand
shouting out a demand.

The jailer angrily came to the cell door
he banged on the grill.
In a temper the snarling man entered
within seconds he was dead!
Silently falling on to the dank stone
the knight left alone!

Few humans scurried about in passageways
of the castles lower depths.
Coming upon a sentry post a guard stood
soon his life had expired!
Putting on the uniform he was going home
with a sword he would roam.

Very lax security the knight slowly walked
into the alien countryside.
Luckily not challenged he saw a lone soldier
getting off his horse.
Never feeling the blow now homeward bound
with the information found!

Indeed the Barron was a traitor to his king
the knight an army would bring!

The Foureyed Poet.

Young lives are being slaughtered by knives
law and order seems to have no power
to contain the gangs creating such strife
brutality grows not by weeks but the hour
these crimes getting rapidly out of control
with no logic to the mounting toll!

The gangs culture has been allowed to expand
cities towns and villages none are immune
in the present climate they are in command
too often on the roadside flowers are strewn
lawlessness spreads as people are oppressed
helpless we stand as a society transgressed!

A bleak future violence escalates and discipline
is now lost allowing worrying complacency in
surely it extends far deeper into our culture
where nobody can see that hovering vulture!

Now nobody is safe from the threat of violence
as corruption destroys human tolerance!


#TheFoureyedPoet.

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.

Life was hard in those early days
in Swindons rail work shops.
Where conditions were basic and harsh
working long hours in the heat and noise.
Furnaces blazed to create the power
forging the steel needed to mold.
Magmificent living steam engines
made with passion and skill its told.
Workers couldn't watch the clock
wages were only counted in shillings.
The Great Western railway the employer.
new Swindon was born out of the works.
Stone iron and steele covered the land
at the bottom of Kingshill.
Industrial progress increased sharply
where the land once laid still.
Rows  of houses were built for the toilers
and a hospital soon rose from the ground.
The church of St Marks so they could pray
a park to unwind in their limited leisure.
In a community of people helping each other
located by the main London to Bristol line.
Enjoying their annual holidays together
when the steam works looked fine.
Nineteen eighty five the gate shut for good
a retail outlet now where the works stood.

The Foureyed Poet.

Locked within his own mind he just laid
after the heart attack
that came suddenly without warning
in a comatose condition
to those around him motionless in bed
nothing direct could be said!

Had always hoped to retain his dignity
not gazed upon with pity
only lingering on for his families sake
after the years of hard work
certainly not his choice to visibly decay
laying there on display!

Not for him to be unable to communicate
prolonging their deep grief
this loving father wanted peaceful release
remembered as an active man
if only he could smile and talk as they sat
instead of being helpless and flat!

He waited for his merciful release!

The Foureyed Poet.

Looking down at my young clear skin
full of energy and hope
innocent not seeing any fear around
a life time ahead of me
then no internet or mobile phones
robots and human clones!

Less complicated not the pressures
vinyl records and cassettes
shops closed Sundays families spoke
safe for children outside
being able to grow in natural stages
not endless exam pages!

Today I look down at my ageing skin
struggling to keep warm
nobody calls or ever bothers to visit
harder to pay rising bills
families split lacking close support
respect no longer taught!

The elderly are considered a burden
in this faltering society
where corruption affects everybody
greed no compassion
services shut for lack of funds its said
on egg shells we tread!

Life may have been hard but people cared
kindness and help freely shared!

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.

Love has passed me by a moment that never was
an emptiness that has not been filled.
Valentines day has no meaning for me
indifference without emotions felt.
To some companionship is their wealth
others money or having good health.
    Not all of us can find that special individual
to share our daily lives together.
For some that is a life that willl never be
a single path is what has been marked.
Love is hard to define what does it mean
somehow I slipped around the scene.
    I envy nobody if they have found it good luck
life is a journey with many turns.
Negotiating them can be a challenge for many
does destiny exist are our lives planned?
It would have been nice to be close to someone
but we cannot all say our battles were won.
    On Valentines day I hope your love is real
and your futures the real deal.
  
  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.

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.

Could there be any truth in the prophecies
that the Mayans had written?
Over five thousand years ago about 2012
foretelling a spiritual awakening!
And the possibility of the end of mankind
is it fiction that's outlined?

Prophecies written have come and long gone
scholars say they've happened.
Were these disasters predicted as it was told
or how they were interpreted?
Whether vague and their meanings calculated
their accuracy debated!

Many are sceptical of those who say they foresee
from past times to present.
Though a lot of predictions of the natural type
what of mankind's folly?
If there's a way that the future can be seen
to know seems obscene!

Usually nothing can be done to prevent it
causing fear and uncertainty.
Prophecies of the past make no difference
those of the future no comfort!
Whether the Mayans is true it's a short wait
if not next year let's have a debate!

The Foureyd Poet.

Maybe when you live all by yourself
independence is the goal.
Forgetting how to love and share
making every decision.
No splitting your life in two parts
or the breaking of hearts.

Maybe you can compare what it was like
having lived with a partner.
It all went wrong and you were left
so the choice was made.
Your now living in your own space
is it truly a better place?

Maybe you prefer having no distractions
though it can get lonely
No sharing also can make you selfish
where you could be introvert.
Finding it hard to communicate outside
with others unable to confide.

Can this be how my life will finally end
alone in my home.
Bitter and with so much negative regret
you your only friend.
Or can I seek out a companion or mate
to enjoy life's unknown fate.

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.

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 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.

As I sat on that high ridge to take a rest
during a lull in the fighting.
I had a front seat on a bleak image
thousands were dead.
Huge mushroom clouds were rising
how I was alive surprising!

Another bright blast hit the valley
then another flash!
Down the hill with a mighty force
injured facing the angry sky
Shocked at what I had seen and heard
in the news no hint no word!

No warning of a nuclear strike
rumbles of descent heard.
Conflict was just every day news
nations wanting to be free.
Sinister groups each rebel state
certainly wouldn't hesitate.

Struggling to stand moving forward
visibility down to a few feet.
Dim lights appeared just ahead.
it was a vehicle from my unit.
Safely picked up returned to base
seeking news of the human race!

Finding out it had been limited
to only a few countries.
The world would suffer for this deed
the destruction of life.
Nothing could be the same again
an act pointless and insane!

Since the mushroom clouds first came
everybody felt they were to blame.
Every nation had no choice but to unite
no more determination to fight!

Survival can only be achieved by working together!

The Foureyed Poet