Has that dark feeling come over you
when a veil clouds your mind.
A depression mode out of the blue
alone no hope you can only cry.
That empitness you cannot fill
a moment you lose all will.

On your own with no good thoughts
asking yourself what use am I?
Dreading the future you have ahead
nothing uplifts your mood.
Then it's gone your better again
you have you're life to maintain.

Pressure is put upon each one of us
fighting to survive not wanting to fuss.
But there are those who can't cope
and succumb giving up hope!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet

That defining moment at the final flag
in the motor sports.
Or the last long blow of the whistle
at the end of a ball game.
The preparation the long journey made
their focus displayed.

Training to be an athlete on the track
like in every sport.
Dedication and sacrifice to win a prize
amateurs aim for medals.
Professionals focused on the money gain
increased wealth to maintain!

Countless fans pursue their heroes on this quest
even though they struggle.
Passion is high in sport each split second counts
or every goal the aim.
To reach that peak the best in your sport
perfection is sought.

There are the few greats classed as the elite
who seldom know defeat.
We watch with desire and that revered awe
then are honoured evermore!

The Foureyed Poet.

That smile will be with me forever
on the day it all went wrong
the two of us trying to be clever
our journey was too long
deciding to take a different trail
thus must recount the tale!

That smile will be with me forever!

Desperate to try and save our marriage
after both drifting apart
had we passed that irreversible stage
our love was there a start
yet the tension high I drove to fast
and our destinations cast!

That smile will be with me forever!

Into a tree we rammed I was powerless
to avoid the collision
the anger had created this foolishness
shaping the final decision
my side undamaged just shaken
realising I was mistaken!

That smile will be with me forever!

Why had I been such a stubborn man
had shock awoken me
you the only one in my earthly plan
at first what I did not see
there hurt with that angelic smile
how bad I was in denial!

That smile will be with me forever!

Somehow got a signal to call assistance
talking more than before
why now could we seem to be consistent
doing my best to reassure
that any problems we would transform
our love overcame any storm!

That smile will be with me forever!

As the rescue team arrived we tenderly kissed
such a magical moment
how such tenderness for so long I had missed
she had been sent to me
that smile I shall never forget or guilt fade
too late true feelings displayed!

She died from her injuries soon after!
that smile will remain with me forever!

The Foureyed Poet.

The ancient town of Glastonbury stands proud
known for its famous Tor.
And leylines that converge in fertile earth
surrounded by human history.
Mystical, today commercialised they flock
soaking up power and to rock.

As this isolated Somerset town is engaging
colourful characters thrive.
Bringing the past and its history to life
as Pagan and Christian mingles.
Once an island surrounded by marshland
an aura of magic is at hand.

Here there's a sense of timeless wonder!

The Foureyed Poet.

The ancient town of Glastonbury stands proud
known for its famous tor.
And ley lines that converge in fertile earth
surrounded by human history.
Mystical today commercialised they flock
soaking up power and to rock.

As this isolated Somerset town is engaging
colourful characters thrive.
Bringing the past and its history to life
as Pagans and Christians mingle.
Once an island surrounded by marshland
an aura of magic is at hand.

Here there's a sense of timeless wonder!

The Foureyed Poet.

The church was now derelict long deserted
in the tower the bell still hung!
Once a holy and respected parish church
left to crumble and rot!
The locals avoided this known land mark
especially after dark!

The familiar sound of the single ringing bell
echoed over the valley.
Filling them with apprehension and dread
it's tone always deep.
How it rang nobody knew there was no rope
in a place that had lost hope!

Sixty years since the sound of load singing
had filled the church.
Happy parishioners filling the oak pews
but faith faded as they died.
Others moved to find secure employment
few remained still content!

Visitors on the narrow lanes heard the bell
often they just kept going.
But attracting the addicted like a beacon
seeking a sanctuary.
Mesmerised by the rhythmic ringing bell
summoning them to hell!

The bell rang that single sombre monotonous note
a desperate soul listened before slitting his throat!

Beside him was his pathetic belongings and the
drug paraphernalia! The bell never stopped!

The Foureyed Poet.

The birthday party as in full swing
laughter and music blaring.
Coming form the northern city pub
not a hint of trouble.
Everyone enjoying the celebration
they slipped in no hesitation.

Dressed in a suit a mask over the face
a revolver exposed.
With a target directly in his eye sight
raising the deadly weapon!
For none in the lively bar did he care
at the victim a blank stare!

Several others by his side fell wounded
as the large crowd split.
He had vanished in the ensuing panic
definitely a professional hit.
Evermore body fluid on another floor
more deaths to even the score!

Not a single soul can ever feel safe or free
always somebody on a vengeful spree!

The Foureyed Poet.

He could not get the blood off himself
no matter how he tried!
It was him or that monstrous creature
not alive any more!
Just couldn't get used to all the blood
worse mixed with mud!

How he'd become a killer of these things
always been a quiet lad.
That was until he met that fantastic girl
pity then he didn't know!
She wasn't of the **** sapiens breed
spawned of another seed!

Beginning to age yet she looked the same
never knew they co-existed.
Drawn into their feud against their vile kind
had to learn how to fight.
Or by knowing her would be dispatched
head from body detached!

This race had been here long before man
form a distant galaxy.
They could only be killed by decapitation
at first not believing it.
Until the girl he loved had her first ****
that was in his brain still.

Now he had to wearily keep on the move
with each **** their powers grew.
But a moment would come when either
he would certainly die!
Either murdered or he'd simply grow old
to his lover this he told.

That day arrived sooner than he'd feared
but the way he cherished.
The two of them attacked while walking
his instincts were fast.
Always a sword at hand he protected
a fatal blow was deflected!

Striking the enemy before they hit the girl
taking the full blow!
In her arms he thought this was the end
but a strange sensation.
Hot fire surging inside the blood exploded
his mortality eroded!


Never before had this mutation occurred
he was now a hybrid!
Together on equal terms they were joined
knowing blood would flow!
Violence and tracking their reasons to exist
the quest they would persist!

Beware they wouldn't let anything stop the ****!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless invited nobody visited the bungalow!

The Foureyed Poet.

There The Cafe stood where once it was bare
a new monument in Weston Super Mare.
Why was it not placed in this location before
it would create tourism more.
The Cafe on the promenade not a listed grade
not open for any public trade.

Like it had always been part of local tradition
sitting in that strategic position.
Tourists trying hard to get in there for tea
the menu even looked good to me.
Others were desperate for the fancy loo
it was a TV set they hadn't a clue.

On the long wide seafront it's no real
though has that old Cafe appeal.
With a feel it's been there since the ark
it's Cyril's the place is a lark.
A hub of comical characters as they interact
the central point of fun in fact.

But the series has now been wrapped
evermore will the site be mapped.
Sadly The Cafe will be packed away
knowing it may return one day.

I know it will rise again.

The Foureyed Poet.

The new owner had heard the cottage was haunted
thinking it was simply old wives tales.
Ignoring the stories and how cheap the price
buying what she thought was a bargain.
Born in the area had decided to move back
thinking she was on track!

Passing the small cottage appeared so quaint
she had been drawn to it.
But had an odd name being called the cage
once it had been a prison!
Women accused of being witches were held
where torture and misery excelled!

Today many locals feel those spirits remain
souls of the young tormented1
Footsteps on the stairs shadows and shapes
haunt the tiny cottage.
After three years could not stay any more
uncertain of what she saw!

Since then endless tenants have come and gone
driven out by unexplained events!
Even when a paranormal group came to stay
feeling disturbed some were pushed.
Many images  caught on cameras and monitors
scratching from under the floors!

The cottage stands empty no answers yet found
ready for the next tenants to hound!

The Foureyed Poet.

The elderly man sat reminiscing over his life
now unable to walk far.
Breathing in oxygen through a nasal tube
he knew it wouldn't be long.
Shortly after in his sleep he quietly passed
at his funeral the truth masked!

Outwardly thought of as a charming man
inoffensive and kindly.
Nobody knew he had once been in prison
for an unsolved ******!
Evidence against him they tried to seek
but it was too weak!

For all those years he had kept his secret
the body was never found!
They knew he had committed the crime
but they had no proof!
He had put it in the large leather chair
nobody guessed it was there!

Playing on his mind sitting with the victim
who was not at rest.
And in the end hounded him to his death
as in the chair it still laid!
Before long the furniture had to be sold
the dark secret still untold.

To the furniture auction the chair was taken
there a young woman was thrilled.
A real brown leather chair for sixty pound
what a bargain she thought.
Always wanted one of these she shouted
of this none doubted.

So pleased when it arrived at her new flat
it did look out of place.
Keen to show her boyfriend the purchase
he was on his way.
As she smelt the leathers strong scent
it made her content.

Sitting in the plush chair she felt important
for a short while.
A sick feeling filled her retching throat
through blurry eyes!
There a man stood struggling to her feet
managing to retreat.

Blurting out what had happened to her friend
together they returned.
Nothing was there on the chair saw a tear
pulling it a body part fell out!
Soon the police arrived to the address
to clear up the mess!

The chair for evidence was soon removed
the case against the old man proved!

The Foureyed Poet.

How cold and dark the chapel looked that day
from the narrow dirt track.
The overgrown graves adding to the gloom
no longer did anyone pray.
In this neglected forgotton medieval place
here a friend disappeared without trace.

This brought me to view this strange dwelling
a despair came over me that second.
That gut wrenching feeling consumed my being
standing afraid I started to yelling.
A spontaneous reaction that I could not stop
around were fields filled with natures crop.

Always the sceptic yet I felt I was not alone
a light breeze began to blow.
Why had I ventured to this solitary spot
had I seen from inside a glow?
Compulsion made me open the rusty gate
what had happened to my mate

A heavy atmosphere it was hard to breath
was that footsteps I heard?
Stopping to glance around nobody was there
two horse riders came passed waving.
Turning back I was at the solid wooden door
on it marks as if made by a claw!

Foreboding  I wanted to get myself away
something stopped my urge for flight.
The answers I seeked must be inside I prayed
the summer light turned into night.
Dread within my soul was rising to it's height
and the outcome of my plight.

Pushing with hidden strength on the oak door
it swung open in the blackness I stared.
As my vision became more use to the dark
two red eyes looked back and glared.
A growling rasp echoed acoustically clear
something was gnawing far too near.

In my jacket pocket I had put a small torch
taking it out I turned on the beam.
There before me a wolf like creature stood
neither moved then it shot by.
Knowing this was the friend I'd been seeking
running out I saw the full moon peaking.

What I had seen was beyond my lifes beliefs
distant howls filled me with terror.
All I could do was just sit in the chapel
until the new dawn once more arose.
Never again did I see my life long friend
as now my life has drawn to an end.
    The Foureyed Poet.

That moment when the enemy met
upon the muddy ****** fields.
In between the trenches of death
when guns fell eerily silent.
German soldiers voices were heard
singing carols fighting deferred.
One story of that incredible times
when enemy stopped killing.
Sanity replaced the madness of war
a mutual reaction of goodwill.
Instigated by the soldiers to each other
they became a father son brother.
Exchanging food cigarettes and much more
realising they were just like them.
German and British troops actually met.
On what was called no mans land.
It started in 1914 on Christmas day
that for a time hate went away.
Historical fact of the search for peace
if only that act could save lives.
In the chaotic theatres of conflict
that blight too many even now.
As it is realised we are all of one birth
on this our one earth.
Where is that Christmas truce?
The Foureyed Poet.

Excitement filled the cinema waiting for it to start
with anticipation amongst the fans.
As the cape crusaders new adventure began
nobody expected what was to come.
They settled  in to see the spectacular action
then came a violent interaction!

Joy turned to terror as in seconds he fired
randomly with an automatic gun!
A man gave no mercy to those in the dark
red hair dressed in black!
Not caring whose life spark was taken away
no compassion on display!

Another mass murderer there was created
at least twelve slaughtered!
Many more badly wounded caused by one
a lone young gunman.
Another massacre to analyse how it could be
evidence the authorities didn't see!

Then you realise how easy it could happen again
a possible scenario of death!
Loners who are not all psychotic beings
but clever devious individuals!
That for a cause a grudge or even sick pleasure
they have no decency or measure!

May I send my deepest sympathy to all the families
those lost should be remembered not the killer!

The Foureyed Poet.

Was that a knock on the bedroomj door
in fact two he was sure.
A chill ran through his body instantly
sitting up in bed instinctively.
Not a believer in spirits or any god.
thinking he was a silly old sod.

Staring at his own white painted door
he placed bare feet on floor.
Putting dressing gown on feeling cold
moving forward rather bold.
In the dim light did the handle turn
the stomach acid began to burn.

This was daft for the first time afraid
wishing in his bed he had stayed.
With a deep breath ****** open the door
in the dark a shadow he saw.
It vanished with no sound being heard
then noises in the kitchen stirred.

Turning every light on he could reach
there came a high pitched screech.
Yet still nothing was at all visible to him
now the mood was getting grim.
As he stood shocked in the well lit room
in the roof space came a boom.

At this point he could take no more
and ran out the front door.
The night was warm as he looked inside
a figure stared out he cried.
It was himself a dark shadow came behind
then he was gone phasing his mind.

Shouting out he awoke shaking in bed
staring at the door was he dead?
Soon it was obvious he was definately not
as up in his bed he shot.
On the painted door there was a knock
frozen in a state of shock.

What will happen next?

The Foureyed Poet.

In the sunlight the copse seemed fine
there had been tales.
Of ghostly sightings within its fencing
this was hard to believe.
Shadows cast as the sun shone down
leaves turning brown.

I had come on a field work investigation
requiring no equipment.
But observation of the sights and sounds
it was so natural in daylight.
Altering as darkness  took over at sunset
and that sense of threat

The copse began to feel cold and sinister
we had worked out a route.
With areas for each session to be held
many natural sounds filtered.
At least for several hours it was good
then before me a figure stood!


Now we felt confused nothing was the same
our planned route not there!
It became dense the dark solid and thick
wandering around in circles.
Ending back in the same spot we started
sad and downhearted!

Each thinking they saw shadows darting
as torches were aimed.
It was like the beams had hit a solid wall
trapped in another reality.
Spiritually our essence was draining away
we were here to stay!

Then within an instance it had disappeared
in the copse the air clear.
Shocked and unsure of what had happened
we just had to leave.
Back to normality of a starry clear night
shouting out with delight.

What each of us had experienced I have no idea
but in the copse an unnatural atmosphere!

The Foureyed Poet.

The airport was at its usual daily peak
thousands wanting to fly away.
Frustrations mounting with each delay
but eventually this flight.
Departed late evening on runway 201
glittering in the dusky sun.

From the ground it looked a perfect take off
but it was not alone!
Besides the sleek aircraft was a disc like object
keeping pace as it rose!
Ground crew were afraid it could be a missile
at least for a short while.

The air force were alerted it stayed along side
passengers saw the disc.
Silver in colour no markings they could see
none of the crew had a clue.
Speeding ahead it turned on a collision course
towards them at G force!

The plane started to take emergency evasive action
to avoid a fatal impact!
In the control tower nothing showed up on radar
even though it could be seen!
After about twenty minutes it started to glow
then seemed to slow.

As witnesses watched silently it split into two
instantly into space it flew!
The plane crew decided to continue their flight
no air force jets caught the UFO that night!

The Foureyed Poet.

The eagle soured high over the mountain
seeking out it's prey to attack.
Deadly but graceful in its locomotion
with a backdrop of trees and snow.
Below the target was soon alerted
in the open cover deserted!

Like radar the eagle honed in precisely
swooping eyes fixed ready to ******.
A magnificent flying predator in the skies
his priority food was on the way.
Wings spread wide vicious talons drawn
as the sun rose to a new dawn.

The Foureyed Poet.

The House is quiet as everyone sleeps
a normal night in a happy home.
On an estate that has seen no trouble
dogs bark cats screech foxes whine.
In the dark faint footsteps approach
up their path a figure does approach.
    Inside the central heating pipes creak
their pet labrador snores contently.
roused by movement of the door flap
then the pungent odour of petrol.
A lit piece of rag ignites the first flame
the arsonist runs away who was to blame.
    Acrid smoke quickly sets off the alarm
but not before it permeates upstairs.
Silently like a winter fog becoming dense
the children awake coughing and crying.
Mum choking opens her eyes and tries to rise
the roar of the fire a total surprise.
    Realising they were all in one bedroom
the kids had crept into bed once more.
Her husband groaned he was not easy to wake
luckily the fire brigade were near by.
Each one safely rescued as the fire was quelled
onto each other they tightly held.
    Seconds later their dog was brought out safe
but the house was totally gutted.
In the shadows somebody watched the scene
a burning grudge had not been fulfilled.
This was not finished it blended into the scene
shocked each knowing what could have been.
    The danger had not passed what was the truth
in reality this terrifying act happens too often.
Unable to resolve disagreements or pure hate
complexities of the mind create a disturbing state.
    THe Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was it real or was she actually mad!

The Foureyed Poet.

High on the gallows he stood his death near
the rope tight around his neck!
Reflecting on how he ended in this position
from a respected shop keeper.
To conspirator against his beloved country
his innocence no bargaining plea!

Within just a few seconds would live no more
conversations with customers.
Were overheard and misconstrued by some
as plotting against the crown.
Speaking his mind on the increasing unrest
mostly said only in jest.

Word soon got back to parliamentary forces
and action followed swiftly.
He and the few other so called conspirators
were dragged into court.
Tortured to confess to what they'd not done
freedom would not be won!

Humiliated and shunned by those once friends
his family had to escape.
Within those endless unbearable few weeks
each one anded up here.
With his last breath shouted out it was not true
trap door opened he dropped through!

Innocent or guilty to him it mattered no more!

The Foureyed Poet.

Their bones lay beneath blood soaked dirt
harrowing stories to be told.
Slaughter and suffering of millions of men
shame upon the instigators of war!
Cries of despair pain an unanswered pray.
with no other soul to share.

Men stuck deep in mud unable to move
officers shooting their own men.
To end their suffering in a lingering hell
here fighting day and night.
In the filth and water filled trenches
rats and no resting benches.

Soldiers who were boys in the battle
should have been home at school.
Instead dying in a ferocious needless war
so many went so few came home.
Forever remembered for their sacrifice
lost generations a terrible price!

Trenches like coffins how can we ever understand?

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

That has never happened in my world!

The Foureyed Poet.

The last year has certainly flown by us all
good for some bad for many more.
Those with money still having a ball
all the rest who know what's install.
Taxes ascend told to tighten the belt
prices going up the pinch is felt.


Charity should begin at our own front door
the government increases overseas aid.
Road duty train prices increasing for sure
make them pay its the big tax raid.
Vultures who thrive when times are hard
not for them the overspent credit card.

Nor are they afraid of a big incoming bill
looking down upon us as poor fools.
As those without get more depreesed and ill
increasing their wealth we are the mules.
Communities full of much violence and hate
politicians take little action just debate.

The usual happy Christmas if you can afford it
but I like to think of those in need.
Brightness in dark places a simple candle lit
to see everybody is able to feed.
True meaning when kindness can be shown
a period none scared of the unknown.

That short span in time when we do realise
each soul is from the same mold
When humans can express kindness be wise
and not everybody is evil and cold
From me I wish the world and people goodwill
and compassion is within us still.

The Foureyed Poet.

My last neighbours made no noise at all
never knew they were there.
But they passed away completely quiet
nothing to disturb me.
It did not last a new neighbour arrived
my tranquillity deprived!

At first not much sound came from next door
hoping it would quieten down.
Then louder noises emanated in the wall
hammering sounds too.
Worried I knocked their door to complain
from anger I tried to refrain!

Never a reply but a lot of vehicles came after dark
many arrived and went.
Few if any ever during those daylight hours
when black curtains were shut.
A nasty smell started to make me feel ill
something burnt on a grill!

I hadn't believed in vampires until the neighbour
moved in next door!
From then on my windows stayed tightly shut
who would believe me?
No animals came near which was a good thing
but what would the future bring?

The noises got worse even afraid to sleep
an atmosphere so grim!
In the end I had to leave while I could
as people began to disappear!
I knew what my neighbour was next to me
but would they let me be?

For a long time after I saw bats above my head
was it my neighbour one of the undead?

The Foureyed Poet.

The new summer was here at long last
it was hot and dry.
No more thought of those winter days
that first cycle ride.
Into the shrinking countryside alone
nice to be on your own.

Finding a quiet lane inhaling the warm air
remembering your youth.
The population sparse villages small
you stop at a sign.
Leading to a footpath rising to a hill
a challenge to fulfil.


A faint humming boosts your senses
the moment to relax.
Easing the stresses of daily existence
and channelled thoughts.
A day of unknown futures everywhere
no time to prepare.

From that high point a panoramic spectacle
feeling like a god.
Looking down upon his flock from on high
lost and floundering.
With so much discord in his own creation
near to obliteration!

Disturbed by the thoughts of man's disintegration
making your way back.
Along the track from tranquillity into uncertainty
and dangers of living.
That short break giving you hope of a solution
to our total pollution!

Love,Respect,Care and Hope is this within us?

The Foureyed Poet.

They gathered like packs of wild hounds
forever in a drunken stupor!
Numbers growing in every built up area
permanently socially disengaged.
Usually a can in their hands they hover
often causing lots of bovver!

Wandering amongst those who do labour
living off government benefits.
Often with a dog they seem to drag around
most pathetic and scruffy.
To society they are a becoming a rising cost
on life's path they're lost!

This growing number who do not give a toss
roam like a dysfunctional army!
Contributing nothing but causing strife
a constant disorder threat!
Growing as society begins breaking apart
from the bottom it will start!

Corruption envy and greed the old tale
society it will derail!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The virus continues to spread unabated through society!

The Foureyed Poet.

As the rain persisted the waters soon rose
never so much fallen before.
No records showed that much flowed
penetrating the deep caverns.
Disturbing what should be left in the dark
the outcome would be stark!

******* of the deepest levels went critical
awakening creatures from sleep.
Pressure pushing them into the underground rivers
guiding them ever upwards.
Wakening from their long forced hibernation
this deeply buried alien creation!

Fearsome! ****** into our world by the floods
able to swim to catch their prey!
The torrential rains causing such destruction
would be facing a new predator!
But for the rain would not have been freed
allowing the slaughter to proceed!

What would be discovered in the coming days
they were robotic beings!
Indestructible an advanced force that crashed
into deep caverns millenniums ago!
Their functions disengaged until the floods came
reactivated our destruction their aim!

Decimated by natures fury resistance was zero
those not drowned or starved.
Were obliterated by these mechanical marauders
their civilisation no longer existed.
They were the last of their immense soulless kind
our fates to the end entwined!

That day the rain and floods came!

The Foureyed Poet.

There she layed alone in the snow
many people were searching.
Her name and image everywhere
silent frozen on the verge.
Somebody had ended her lifeforce
murdered with no remorse.

Evil person loitering in the shadows
waiting to pounce on others.
Destroying a precious living spark
for thier dispicable reasons.
Thrown aside like unwanted trash
a future wiped out in a flash.

Loved ones left with unspeakable rage
a Christmas day tragedy.
That will haunt them each festive season
always on hold without them.
Not opening thier presents but in a grave
a daughter you could not save.

There she layed on her own in the snow
taken cruelly and young.
Life should have been plentiful and long
knowing you can't right this wrong.

Hoping you're at rest in that long sleep
forgive us if we quietly weep.
    The Foureyed Poet.

High on the desolate cliffs a woman cried
pleading for her man to return
captain of  a navy frigate two centuries ago
on hearing his ship had sunk
no survivors threw herself into the angry sea
in this life no more wanted to be!

From that day of sorrow felt by many families
the loss of husbands and sons
to the sudden storm the day before Christmas
it's said pleading voices are heard
on the winds at the very hour the ship was lost
with such a terrible cost!

Drawing many to have the sensation to jump
while walking on the cliffs
a soft sobbing cry as they to look out to sea
and come across the grave
where she lay forever for her lover waiting
for his return always aching

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

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed poet.

Security was not tight staff numbers very low
nobody saw them go in.
An unlocked gate that was not secure
a camera not checked.
The suspects just walked in unobserved
nothing was seen or heard!

Upon their backs suspicious brown rucksack's
no soul around to challenge.
This action would bring so much regret
as several hours later.
In the railway carriage their bombs discharged
they would never be charged!

No discrimination for any of those injured or killed
from different backgrounds.
Hopelessness added to the chemicals in the air
silence followed the bang!
The innocence of the victims and their kin
the aftermath would now begin!

The Foureyed Poet.

The many city blocks once quiet and safe
normally busy with the locals.
Classed as a multi cultural communities
no longer has the same feel.!
Spontaneous trouble erupted on the streets
organised with thousand of tweets.

After dark the mayhem was orchestrated
and expanding into a war zone.
Police were unable to regain control
as the gangs had a free hand!
Businesses, homes were robbed and looted
the air with smoke polluted.

Gangs roaming in violent mischievous packs
no fear of police respect was gone.
A new era had dawned upon the English public
unprecedented violation on the nation.
Incredibly lost lives and injuries were not more
as people's worlds lay on the floor.

To long a delay in the politicians reaction
why no action taken before?
Before the young made a mockery of the law
reinventing mob rule!
Is it true our leaders are not really effected
and are no longer respected?

Without the confidence and trust of the public
the simmering tension will rise!
When the criminals and anarchist begin to win
what hope for a once proud nation?
With no strong government or trusted protection
there could be complete disconnection!

What will happen next and where? Be careful out there!
As into the day the violence would not go away!

Is the war really here?

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

The young female driver headed on her journey
the satellite navigation switched on.
Which led to a very desolate rambling road
passing through a thick wood.
Happily singing to the music on the car's radio
not going very slow.

The car she said seemed to take over steering
as a woman materialised ahead!
Approaching very fast it swerved into a tree
she could only watch.
As what felt like an eternity before the collision
no time for revision!

The air bag was deployed and it came to a stop
a moment of noise and pain.
A depth of silence never before encountered
steam poured from the radiator.
Realising the danger unhurt stumbled to a rock
being in a state of shock!

From where she sat a figure appeared again
a woman dressed in red.
Arms out with a pleading gaze then faded
frightened just wanted to run.
Found herself on the road weary confused
her body aching and bruised!

Collapsing waking up in a small hospital ward
questioned there by the police.
Though not taking her story seriously
saying there was no evidence!
After extensive searches nothing was found
of this haunted ground.

Taking months to get better for her own search
she to never located the spot.
It must have been real her precious car had gone
haunted by that ghostly face.
Was there a split in the fabric of time and space
lucky not to be lost without a trace!

The Foureyed Poet

The word divorce has endless meanings
many couples part without malice.
Mutually agreeing to separate lives
property and thoughts divided.
Staying friends others enemies for life
regretting ever being man and wife!

Yet when children are in the equation
trouble really begins to build.
Each wanting the children with them
being a close part of their situation.
Courts and high costs are in the play
their wishes ignored anyway.

For years the arguments can rage
with untold damage done.
Selfishness of the individuals own thoughts
cloud the sensible approach.
But these are times of heightened tension
each are careful what they mention.

As the costs get tighter legal aid restricted
common sense needs to prevail.
But those who can afford to battle on regardless
the self indulgence of material wealth.
And haggling over their children's well being
creating future problems I'm foreseeing!

Do We Not Create Our Own Misfortunes?

The Foureyed Poet.

They said it would happen yet nobody believed
the end of mankind!
How many times had we heard that prophecy
and took no notice?
The dates came and went without major trouble
no increase in laying rubble!

The predictions continued then the weather changed
disasters became more regular!
At first we thought nothing a little concerned
but soon became alarmed.
Temperatures rose and the solar flares began
could it be the end of our life span?

More quakes and floods swamped more countries
communication came to a stop!
The fire storms engulfed more of the dry land
civilisation quickly died out!
Small communities kept going on somehow
but I am with the last group now!

Why we have been spared is really a miracle
maybe god chose us few!
The pioneers of a new cycle of human birth
with more respect to mother earth.

From the ashes of a corrupt civilisation we come!

The Foureyed Poet.

Dark clouds continue to thicken above
as man hovers on the brink of war.
No more sparodic and endless tribal conflicts
simmering just under the surface.
Corruption and super power *******
inevitable will draw in every nation.

Over sixty years since the last world war
though never a time of total peace.
Power oil dictatorships and simple pure hate
engulfs the news twenty four seven.
From clubs and axes to weapons of destruction
millions killed and boundless reconstruction.

There are countries with vast deadly arsenals
who would take the risk to attack.
Other countries they felt were aggessors
making uncertainty of fututre actions.
Always feeling the aggrieved and ready to fight
a powder keg it would take little to ignite.


The plot could well thicken very soon I sense
tension  constantly on high alert.
These leaders not shy to use their lethat potency
with the underlying resentment boiling.
The consequences to us not in their equation.
if they wanted a solution an invasion.

A delicate balance hangs over civilisation
as countries develop the nuclear card.
Thinking this is the way to boost their ranking
with others who have these lethal devises.
Making the future a more precarious place
possibly annihilation a more likely case!

Will the building pressure erupt soon or not?
  
The Foureyed Poet.

Through the trees I could see piercing lights
nothing was supposed to be here.
Objects illuminated and darting about above
yet the silence was like death.
What had I stumbled upon on my wrong turn
before long this I would learn.

I could not escape the car had no power
even my mobile seemed drained!
Feeling I was an intruder being there
trying to stay quiet.
Eager to find out what I had come across
walking on a layer of moss.

Hardly able to take a breath I drew near
through the undergrowth.
A flickering sound behind I just froze
something grabbed me!
Losing consciousness at that point
waking aching in every joint.

Where was I my immediate reaction
prostrate in an open landscape.
Cautiously sitting to explore visually
drawn to raise my eyes.
I saw thousands of unknown craft
was it real or was I going daft?

Struggling to get up acting as if drunk
heading back the way I came.
Confused wondering why I was alive
thankful I was unhurt!
No idea then inside was an alien spore
a different kind of war.

In my car again everything worked
my phone started to ring.
My wife was worried why I was not home
on the tv the lights big news.
Not realizing the alien invasion was here
but soon the price would be clear!

There are more getting sick as I speak
now I am becoming weak!

Is there any hope for mankind?

The Foureyed Poet.

Trapped in a city under siege no way to escape
barrage of heavy gun fire!
That never seems to stop as it gets closer
explosions shaking your being.
As death is all around at every second
your existence to could end!

Dust dirt and blood wherever you turn
cries of pain stench of death.
Hell on earth without a glimmer of hope
to even comfort you.
Government troops your people's enemy
encroaching on your territory!

Each shattering explosions brings the horror closer
citizens caught in the barrage!
As the resistance fighters struggle to retaliate
with their inferior weapons!
In the end overwhelming odds tell the story
they don't speak of glory!

Conflicts blight increasing nations before our eyes
rising the crescendo of their cries!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet

Twenty now no longer a child she brooded
was she ready to share?
Her life with a man she'd known six months
to move in together.
Possibly not until Christmas or the New year
in her mind not yet clear.

By that time realising she'd be twenty one
still was it right?
Wanted to leave home got on with mum
not the same with dad!
Always been distant and a little afraid
the atmosphere a little frayed.

He'd been in the army when she was small
maybe this was why!
Was the youngest of four other siblings
and the last at home.
Her parents said she didn't have to leave
there was always a reprieve.

That lack of tenderness from her father
magnified her insecurity.
But had to give the relationship a chance
feeling she was in love.
If that moment was allowed to pass her by
she'd always wonder if or why!

The Foureyed Poet.

High in the sky two lights flickered on and off
drawing my attention.
Clear and dark not a sound could I hear
fixed on watching.
This display to fast for planes yet controlled
what was about to unfold?

The silence of the night near the stone circle
in a small Wiltshire village.
Driving away that sense of being followed
just wouldn't leave me.
A few miles on the car came to a gentle rest
on a hillside crest!


Two lights coming directly at my vision
the cars electrics failed!
It was as if this was an aliens flight path
would I be abducted?
Prepared for the worst shutting my eyes
then looking clear skies!

No sign of any lights except for the stars
greeted my starring gaze.
The car started and lit up scared I went home
arriving calmly got out!
Heard countless stories of what many had seen
belief where doubt had been!

There is more going on than we are told!

The Foureyed Poet.

Can you not sense the undercurrent
an anger mutating over the nation.
That period before costs do excel
a deep dissatisfaction vented.
Massive job cuts told to restain
with warnings of future pain.

That inability to have any input
manipulated and being controlled.
Vote them in with their big promises
as politicians do what they want.
Despair as your finances disappear
truth a word you never hear.



This is a tale not only of one country
ever the widening divide.
The few continue reaping the rewards
the majority paying the cost.
The average guy is always bled dry
the wealthy staying that way being sly.

The undercurrent is beginning to vibrate
the population has had enough.
Those with plenty taking toomuch
from those with little to give.
The burden of debt has to be shared
or frustrations will be aired.
The Foureyed Poet.

In the underpass sat a hunched male figure
wrapped in an old blanket
a woollen hat pulled down over his head
beside him his scruffy dog
his sad eyes following those walking by
listening his silent cry.

In front a small sign written in large letters
simply read please help me
a chipped tin mug placed close to his feet
some people showed him pity
putting loose change in before moving on
never asking what was wrong.

Not until that day man and dog were gone
was it noticed the empty space
at the same moment on a lonely riverside
a dog was barking frantically
running alone along the slippery wet bank
where a body had recently sank.

A blanket laid half submerged at the edge
definitely something was wrong
a couple ran oven concerned about the dog
spotting a body drowned
another life lost where nobody really cared
yet sadness they both shared!

The Foureyed Poet.

The desk sergeant sat at the front desk
in a small police station.
A slow day near the end of the shift
in a small rural town.
Close to a sprawling national park
outside just getting dark.

The young man walked up to the counter
holding a metallic strip.
He looked at the unidentified material
what have you got there son?
Asking as in front of him it was placed
wondering what he faced!

Found it while out walking on open ground
saw something fiery fall!
A bang a flash from the skies a craft fell
he said in a story like way.
The policeman puzzled he heard no sound
when was this thing found?

A few days ago on the other side of the moors
the lad reluctantly said.
Suspicious still the officer doubted the story
cautiously touching it.
There was a strong electrical charge up his arm
pulling back with alarm!

I do not believe your story now tell me the truth
where did this come from?
There was fear in the lads eyes as he owned up
admitting he stole it.
A week before from a friends garden shed
drawn by a loud hum in his head!


It was not a metal from this planet he was sure
knowing it was important.
How long it had been there he could not say
but was omitting a signal.
He was going to keep it but became petrified
with that noise humming inside!

The lad went quiet backed away turned and ran
hands on his ears!
Alone the policeman began to hear the sound
getting louder in his head!
Leaving his post intent on ringing the Inspector
a flash no building any more!

An enquiry followed no explanation for the blast
a mystery forever cast!

The young man nobody had seen or heard of him
missing to was the unidentified material!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unknown to the scientist the horror had just begun!

The Foureyed Poet.