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

That sweet scent wafted in the warm breeze
the moment before we met.
From then on my life was changed
love came with your perfume.
Each of my emotions in hyper drive
until then not alive.

Your perfume was so intoxicating
a doting slave I became.
One direction to achieve your attention
passion drew me under it's spell.
This energy and intensity could not last
one day a shadow was cast!

I became yesterdays man brushed away
when somebody else was snared.
Like me the perfume pulled them within
my heart shattered as I watched.
Another laying prostrate at your feet
no way could I take defeat.

Jealousy never far from the passion of love
not caring when I sighted you.
Unable to control my basic human instincts
attacking forcibly my rival.
Feeling betrayed and the only one hurt
soon my body would hit the dirt!

Standing here a noose around my neck
guilty of deeply loving you!
Even as the trap door beneath me is released
the perfume will linger always.
Never regretting that deep emotional ride
you will be with me inside!

Love and jealousy unceasing like your perfume!

The Foureyed poet.

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

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

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

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

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

Or is this just a modern nightmare tale?

The Foureyed Poet.

On the prom, in chairs of similar design
actors, support artists and crew.
Chatted in between takes as the sun shone
around the The Cafe' television set.
In a seaside town they each came together
that day it was unsettled weather.

The atmosphere was friendly nobody left out
congenial conversation not forced.
That created the mood for a great shoot
as a new comedy series was made.
On the seafront with a train ride there
passers by were everywhere.

Actors were also rehearsing another scene
under a canopy while it rained.
Fascinated I watched and laughed as well
feeling part of that moment.
In this privileged spot to observe first hand
by the sea close to the sand.
The Foureyed Poet.

A Strong sense of unease fills my mind and soul

my body trembles is it fear or the cold night

looking around at seemingly quiet streets

what waits in this darkness that engulfs me

once feeling safe and secure now I want to flee

evil exists all about in the form of human beings

cruel calculating driven by what often a mystery

few cause so much misery and horror in society

overpowering subtle in their persuasive false way

most want to live peacefully keeping evil at bay

do  you not feel it to that unseen lingering unease

always there ready to attack like a viral disease!

The Foureyed Poet.

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 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.

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.

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.

From the edge of our atmosphere it flew
nobody knew the craft existed.
Invisible to radar screens out of sight
the spy plane didn't exist.
At the period in history myth or fact
then proof they lacked!

A plane flying at seventy thousand feet
thought an impossible task.
Designed to spy undetected at  this height
against their powerful old foe.
But the intrigue when they started to fly
a surge of UFO's reported in the sky!

Was this what pilots were reportedly seeing
and civilians on the ground.
Not alien but man made flying saucer craft
but maybe not all were!
Could it have been this secret spy plane
or something we can't explain!

Strange lights that change shape and colour
blending into one then dividing.
Triangular shapes seen all over the planet
often over groom lake!
So are they secret and developing planes
created on barren salt plains!

Is there a need for mankind to be very afraid
if we knew the secrets being made?

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

Rekindles that long gone excitement.

The Foureyed Poet.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Debt would not bother her any more!

The Foureyed Poet.

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.

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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.

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

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

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


The Foureyed Poet.

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.

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.

The bullet was made by an expert
discovered when removed.
At the autopsy of a young guy
one of several just arrived.
Not a gang war it was known
but a ****** working alone.

The public scared out of their wits
the police under pressure.
Three dead this boy the latest victim
attacks in varied locations.
Was it by somebody from the military
an expert with a unique ability.

No clues was not good to hear
the public afraid to be here.
Tall buildings made them easy targets
when would the next strike be.
Though summer the temperature cold
through information they trolled.

As another victim was gunned down
more evidence was found.
Two teenagers saw a man with a case
get into a city works van.
Contacting with what they had seen
a new image came on the screen!

Every law officer was instantly alerted
a face found to fit description.
An ex soldier with traumatic stress
caution the critical word.
Quickly a sighting was received
the entire force relieved.

A gun battle ensued policemen hurt
not killed in the line of duty.
A swat team eventually shot him dead
in a disused ammunition factory.
News soon spread of the snipers demise
the gloom factor began to rise.

You can never argue with a bullet!

The Foureyed Poet.

Revenge for her parents death the drive
that became her passion.
The story began when she was a child
witnessing their killing!
Every detail taken in by her big eyes
to get the killer the prize.

Seventeen years painfully trickled by her
becoming an assassin.
As the hatred coursed through her veins
revenge drove her on.
Though wanting to seek the love she craved
retribution on her soul engraved!

She had found a man making it complicated
her fine tuning distorted.
This new friend had found her mobile phone
saving her photo image.
Trying to find out about this mystery female
allowing others to find her trail.

Gangs had lost foot soldiers to her expertise
who acted like a shadow.
For the first time had to be far more aware
her parents murderer alerted.
The last pages of her diary soon completed
could this evil be defeated?

Knowing he would catch up with her soon
she prepared to strike first.
Entering his mansion in a covert manner
dispatching silently his crew.
Until he was there without support alone
recognising his arrogant tone.

From a hidden point confronted head on
glaring with a cold stare.
Going to fire the gun held in sweaty hand
diving found a hidden weapon.
A bullet went right through her shoulder
he was quick though much older.

Her shot caught him in a main thigh artery
shattering the femur to.
There before her the man she hated so much
was now at her mercy.
She had prayed for years to see him die
openly then did she cry!

One more deep breath she shot him in the head
cruelly on his face a smile as he lay dead!

Knowing she would be a target vanished from sight
revenge in the end did not feel right!

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.

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

From a quiet tiny stream into a raging torrent
as high volumes of rain falls with intent.
Onto the grasslands forming artificial lakes
lives property and businesses high stakes.
Swollen rivers burst their banks flooding homes
as the surge of water indiscriminately roams.

That heavy rain that never seems to stop pouring
down on the streets at speed it comes roaring!
Into many properties in its way water is merciless
cold and filthy always leaving a trail of mess.
Sodden ground unable to absorb man an obstacle
flooding becomes soul destroying and cruel!

Misery and heartache as the fast wind blows
and heavy rain saturates the water flows!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

Maybe the few could survive along with the cockroaches!

Is this man's inevitable fate?

The Foureyed Poet.

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.

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.

A car passed at speed the middle aged driver
unhappy at the narrow miss.
He shouted out in an abusive manner
not realizing the window was open.
The four youths looked at each other
saying ' he'll regret that brother'.

The man did realize something was wrong
as the car sped away he saw them turn.
What had he done who were these guys
seeing their car he took another route.
But they were soon  coming up behind
entering a road that was tree lined.

Busy traffic swerving to avoid being hit
their car smashed into his rear.
Then their powerful motor side swiped him
hitting the now total wreck.
His seat belt protecting his very life
as one came at him with a knife.

Trapped he could not move an inch
sound of sirens could be heard.
Yet the youth lunged in the open window
slashing his already broken arm.
Terrified he shouted out loudly again
now in so much pain!

Somehow getting back in their car
into nowhere they went.
As help arrived on the once quiet road
residence coming out in force.
The case months on not yet solved
nobody wanted to get involved!

The youths are still out there somewhere!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

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.

Time has become part of our destinies
after meeting three years ago
from the first moment we saw each other
we both were truly blessed
our eyes locked and that gaze has stayed
nothing for you would I trade.

Like a dream we married in magical Hawaii
now my husband wants to come
to be with me in England to make our home
kind and gentle who cares for me
to have my true love always here by my side
tears of joy I could not hide.

Antonio you do make my life mean so much
soon I shall be back in your arms
my heart skips a beat waiting for that moment
remembering our special song
so one more night I can't live without you
our bond is strong and true.

Together forever that moment draws near!

The Foureyed Poet.

The desert was flat you could never tell
that below where you stood
was a military bunker and missile silo
from a time years passed
built here on this lonely barron latitude
that had a bad attitude!

An everlasting reminder of mans ingenuity
negative approach to peace
of times that have gone but do still exist
creation of terror and destruction
yet for many this factor has disappeared
to die is no longer feared!

Thinking foolishly that all conflicts will end
is only in dreamers minds
always there simmering the spark of war
lay in wait in human culture
where somebody is ready to light the flame
so conflicts in history doth remain!

The Silo is but one symbol of the ****** past
forever on humans the shadow cast!

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

Above our heads and below our feet
electricity surges through.
Power lines linked like huge arteries
giving life to a rising public.
Increasing demand for easy existence
could end with persistence.

Man never stable nor servile creatures
always wanting dominate.
All other species living on our planet
like gods in his approach.
Not respecting earth his only base
as more dangers we face!

Continues conflicts and power struggles
divided between rich and poor.
Tribal and sectarian  violence and greed
as the power starts to falter.
Resources are dwindling as the need rises
a future filled with bad surprises!

The Foureyed Poet.

Have you ever sat on a bench alone
when all you can utter is a grown?
At rock bottom thinking negative
not really wanting to live!
Problems insurmountable no money
nothing in life you find funny.

Can't be bothered to wash or shave
knowing you have become knave.
Not to others in crime but to yourself
your being left on a dusty shelf.
Every thought is nearer to despair
others around you're not aware!

Wallowing in self pity I've been there
eyes glazed you just stare.
A day seems an eternity without hope
pills or hang by the rope!
I did overcome those dark ages
filled with silent rages!

I had to find the strength and seek
ask for help learn not to be weak.
But some can't face the demons inside
no matter how hard they tried.
Deeper into themselves they travel
to complicated to unravel!

I can only hope your answer will be found.

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would they regret the visit?

The Foureyed Poet!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Foureyed Poet.

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.

As he opened one eye a new existence awaited
it was cold and he was semi naked!
A salty smell filled his sensitive nostrils
wearily he sat up.
Blood ran down his arm from a savage ****
clothes strewn about like trash!

No memory of how he ended up in this spot
a watery sun began to shine.
Standing it was though he had a hangover
how his head throbbed.
Gathering his clothes and putting them on
he heard a clock on seven ****!

That splitting headache rampaged his thoughts
trying desperately to remember.
He was sure it was a celebration with mates
must have had too much *****.
Finding it hard to even remember his address
how had he got into this mess?

His parents thankfully had already left for work
weak had a job climbing the stairs.
Couldn't even recognize himself in the mirror
more zombie than human!
Still early so dizzy collapsed on the bed
soon his duvet had turned red!

In a deep slumber awful images started to form
of wolves ripping his flesh!
The next thing he knew his mum was shouting
shocked at his appearance!
Evening when he was rushed to hospital so ill
that ambulance siren shrill!

A month passed now resting healed in the garden
darkness was ascending.
A full moon shone that night he was twitchy
as his hearing became acute.
Starting to sweat his entire body began to ache
the wolf inside began to awake!

The Foureyed Poet.