In 1410 the village of Little Darling was a pretty nice place to live,
it’s houses were stout and wonderful and the people had lots to give,
the lord who owned the area was benevolent, he never ruled with an iron claw,
he spoke with softness and kindness, not knowing a cajoling roar,
he left the people to get on with their lives, unless they needed a helping hand
and then he’d be there to provide a peg up somewhere in his land.
Because of this the folk who made home here had it better then most peasants from this time,
who were condemned to a life of grinding servitude as if their living was a crime,
they were happier and joyful and free from the toil of subjugate,
each second was a pleasure and every minute spent first rate,
however there was one thing they shared with those who spent every day under the cosh;
everyone was filthy, no one liked to wash.
Only about once every 10 days would they pull bathing water from the well,
If they were especially filthy and their stink they wished to quell,
the rest of the time they didn’t care that they resembled a muddy shrub,
or their faces were still covered in last weekend’s off grub,
nor did they think it mattered if their hair was a matted mucky mess
or that compost heap didn’t smell more than their locks, it actually smelt less,
to them water was mainly a drink when their mouths were feeling parched and shoddy,
not a soothing liquid  with which to  cleanse their body.
Everyone in Little Darling didn’t mind being ***** and looking a unhygienic fright,
actually not everyone, everyone’s not quite right.
Alice always wondered why folk didn’t wash
and that’s not because she wanted everyone to be pretty, pristine and posh,
she just pondered as she daily made herself all gleam,
“why does nobody else round here care about being clean?
They all wallow around in their own filth like a burrowed germ,
more buried in soil than a busy earth worm,
I don’t get when there is plentiful water from wells not that far away
why don’t they dose themselves in the aqua good at any point in the day?
She thought, “Of course it’s their own life and if you never harm anyone else you can never do anything wrong,
but how how how can they fester in their own awful pong?”
So every day Alice would get up before she heard the going to work bell
and go and fetch some water to cleanse herself of smell,
she’d make herself all fresh and totally sans of grit and straw
and revel in the gleam she had coming out of every pore.
Everyone else in Little Darling all thought Alice was great,
a truly smashing lass who had tons of friends and mates,
yeah sometimes they’d remark to her “I don’t get your penchant for keeping yourself immaculate if I had to say
but who cares, I love you, have a fantastic day!”
And yes due to the mud in the village sometimes Alice would get herself all shiny and within a couple of hours look like she’d just crawled out of a cave,
but she didn’t mind as starting the day with a sparkle was what she did crave!
One fine day the folk of Little Darling decided to throw a big party as they adored a drink, a chat and a jive,
just have a massive night of  dancing, where they could give appreciation for being alive,
as Little Darling was a ace place they invited another village to join in the hedonism,
as they wanted folk to bask in hours through a wonderful prism!
When Alice heard news of the shindig she let out a chirping coo,
as revelling in the realm of fun was what she was really made to do!
As the week whiled to an end the day of the party came,
Alice could hardly contain herself as carousing ran through her brain,
she picked out her favourite garments feeling all of a super gathering quiver,
and then full of beans moseyed on down to the river,
she washed away with gusto and dressed all primed to go out,
“I’m on my way to get down and groove!” was her gleeful shout.
She started making her path to the good times, feeling all content,
she couldn’t wait to be immersed in the hub of blazing merriment,
as she was walking to the barn where the party was she encountered others making their journey to fun,
lit they all were by the going down sun,
someone said “hey Alice, I reckon you’ve spent an eternity scrubbing yourself for this bash”,
another said “yeah, I bet you’ve wasted hours by the river to get yourself prepared for this night on the lash!”
Alice replied and remarked, “yes I may have used my time getting myself ready and not been able to enjoy the chills and sits
but at least I don’t have hay in my hair like you ******* smelly *****!”
Everyone burst out laughing and happy all skipped to the revelry,
the slow dusk sky reflecting calm as far as the eye could see.
They jaunted into the barn with the music already in full swing,
the harp, drum, lute and trumpet players all doing their tuneful thing,
Alice grabbed a jar of foaming ale and started moving her body to the beats,
each noise in the air a consummate amazing treat!
Then from out of the corner of her eye she spotted a guy with dancing around in the air,
who'd cleaned his garb,
and washed his hair!
Alice thought "Wow! That guy doesn't look like his stench would make my opticals weepy,
in actual fact he makes my heart all leapy!"
They saw each other and felt swirls and sparks,
a knowing of what could and will be lover’s larks,
a chance they both knew could never be missed
and finalised their first look synchronicity with a longing kiss.
Everybody else stopped,
turned to look,
and knew a little bit more about
loves' rushing roars,
and couldn't help but breaking out
into a round of applause.
Alice felt a dawn,
reciprocated the smile of her fresh guy
and hand in hand they left the barn,
on their lips a glimpse of forever,
and went to find a empty stable,
where they could become all
***** together.

The snowy mountains of old
Rose up above the top
Teeny tiny raindrops came
Onto the ground, plip plop

Children young and old run
Ready to slip and fall
Once they saw their bruises
They would whine, scream, bawl

There was woman in a house
Known as Ellie Regard
She ran a petite flower shop
And once dated a bard

She said, "I know you're having fun
But worry about this town
Soon the rain will grow plentiful
And then we will all drown."

Not heeding her warnings
They shunned her little shop
They threw dung and wet clothes
On the ruby red rooftop

Ellie could not help but scream
And run far away
Into a dark and cold cave
Where she would stay

It came to the point when the rain
Grew a staggering whole foot
Frantically, they tried to counter it
By throwing bags of soot

Ellie felt a dark force
Whispering to her ear
She hit it in a fit of whiplash
And begged, "Please disappear!"

Shots rang out into the night
The only source of light

Ellie screamed once more and ran
And saw the flooding town
In a livid shock she said,
"I knew you all would drown!"

But she herself was swept up
Struggling for air
A wooden oar that had splintered
Took hold of her red hair

She knew that she would not live
And knew that she could not forgive

I carry a white noodle bowl,
carefully up to my chin.
I smile as my nose catches,
the steam so grey and thin.

I set the bowl down gently,
Because it was too hot.
and take this time to ponder,
The noodles I have got.

A small carrot captain,
rides his vessel south.
But the spoony seas are violent,
and bring him to my mouth.

Legions of green sprouts,
are armed and at the ready.
But their base was built on broth,
and therefore is unsteady.

A scallion sergeant paces,
He’s timid and afraid.
And hopelessly fell in love with,
A mushroom mermaid.

The brothy land changes,
As beef enters the scene.
And to the broccoli scouts,
this meat is only mean.

Finally the egg,
who knows he’s the best.
Will wander around the edges,
till he decides to rest.

The dinner’s duty done
I tilt the ocean east
And drain the sea of veggies
into the belly of the beast

I take the styrofoam bowl.
And poke a hole in its side.
The bowl is now found empty
All my friends have died.

A Trojan horse. As Cleopatra in a carpet
Enters hidden on a breath
Incubus; droplet alien drawn in,
sets about its work; brooding job to do.

Awaken a little stiff, sweat and grog
A scratchy throat; a swollen lymph
Shower power, rinse and coffee makes well.
No. Twas not to be this false alarm, I’d grabbed.

Working fast now, growing, flooding
like snow melt hitting parched desert.
Seeping into cracks; changing blood-scapes.
Reprographic virus; dissociative – to thrive.

A false pardon was granted this morning
Cruel deception, such as played on Nick Bottom
teased mind into belief; a surge of relief,
Just early morning rust; blow away sleep dust.

I am sick of it now, the sickness; the bug.
My alien visitors; my too close encounter
making things smell wrong – like vinegar
and my nose pop as each side turns to unblock.

As big screen drama – epic plays out in my mind.
The white cells; the soldiers wiping out alien-kind
Dualling MacDuff and MacBeth in Dunsinane cell
Waging battle within me; my man-flu living hell.

©pofacedpoetry Billy Reynard-Bowness (2018) all right’s reserved

How much is too much,
doing those Emily Dickinson numbers,
almost to #2100,
doing with words what was previously unheard of,

the Andy Warhol of pop poetry,

will continue until even the Atheist Haters believe in me,
I mean if they ever again believe in anything,

&,
I’m on track,
to not look back,
all I’ve gotta do to be great is not die,
or do something stupid and get locked up,
like lose my cool & Triangle Choke out a fool,
just for acting rude,
doest that mean I have a bad attitude,
I don’t know that’s why i’m asking you,

used to have nothing to lose,
now I’ve got nothing to prove,
Game of Life you decide,
pay the price roll the dice win or lose make your move,

I made mine,
by choosing to write these lines,
created my own style & gave it a title,
end every piece where it begins
so the thought’s are complete & the piece comes full circle,
add a few pop culture references & call it Pop Poetry,

& no one known is excluded,
I include more than a few references to saying & names,
my work is an encyclopedia of idioms,
it’s our entire collective Contemporary History literally explained,

& artistically rearranged to keep their attention & entertain,

& I’l write until I write every last thought right outta my brain,

how much is too much,
doing those Emily Dickinson numbers,
almost to #2100,
doing with words what was previously unheard of,

the Andy Warhol of pop poetry…

∆ LaLux ∆

Cali, Colombia

July 2018

To the summit we go amidst the wild night's storm
An avalanche is summoned where the elder stars grew
Visions of hope amongst the mighty hailstorm
I barely recall now a morning's peaceful dew

An avalanche is summoned where the elder stars grew
Our perilous journey to the dragon's gold nest
I barely recall now a morning's peaceful dew
Valorous are the ones who dared to sail northwest

Our perilous journey to the dragon's gold nest
The Gods have abandoned us, no sign of omen
Valorous are the ones who dared to sail northwest
We're determined to get back the jewels were stolen

The Gods have abandoned us, no sign of omen
With fearless hearts we reach the portals of chaos
We're determined to get back the jewels were stolen
That beast will be slayed by our axes blind pathos

With fearless hearts we reach the portals of chaos
Soon we're going to meet the thief and his firestorm
That beast will be slayed by our axes blind pathos
To the summit we go amidst the wild night's storm

I've been waiting for a while
Waiting on the bus, lingering Acadia road
With stark canary smiles
Tires sliding south, piercing lights through the snow

The grouching driver smiled for a buck
But it wasn't my number, just his luck
The face mistook

The madmen piled on top of one another
Spitting stories of strenuous times
Though they complained about the weather
They would do so well to shine every dime

The bus came and noticed my suit
The others followed me in pursuit
Of their boots

I am happy looking at the snow
And only feeling through the cleanest window
But everybody's in a jiving craze
I'm amazed or maybe I'm enhazed
By the speed of streets
And my halted heat

The participants of equilibrium
Took attempts at a kinetic sleep
Instead they chant, in dulled delirium
And take a peek at their synthetic keeps

Neon lights and thinking, dancing strobes
Stamping all their prints into my lobe
As the traffic probes

The wolf in withered wool
Talked about the finest winter day at the start of fall
His owner pulled a spool
Out of her spine, turned it to money, aimed a gun at her own gall

People were aroused ‘till they were pale
And the snow took on the visage of hail
It had us all impaled

A preacher in the back carried the thrall
Of every play and soon denounced them all
Then every mind’s speed-o-meter broke
The bus in that moment served to provoke
The red lights have stalled
But I am simply staring at the wall

The beautiful marmalade-
Haired lady was a victim of the locks of fate
As the buses fade
Onto pavilions of blurs into oblivion’s gate

The passengers sink past another precinct
The districts become less and less distinct
Vision is extinct

The cosmic eye’s offspring
Held a mundane life of bounding over mounds of salt
They came off of spring’s
Offering and found the true, world-collective gestalt

They fret over the facets of fossils
They seek to shine on acrimonious ant-hills
Passion is distilled

The merriest of people lie in songs
And do not feel bothered to belong
But when the bus transitions to a train
The vindictive vain are doused in pain
Queens on their knees
In well-ragged fleece

The bellowing bell-maid
Rang a tune that sang the smells of Familiar Arabia
The sums that we all paid
Meant nothing at all as golden sands enshroud grey Acadia

The replicated people do not dwell
Or belong inside my newfound well
While they seek to sell

The curl-headed mind,
Kept and groomed by the spotted hand of mercury
Grabbed the leashes of the hind
And repeated tales of great Apollo’s century

In the prints on dunes, he has found
The journey and a lack of solid ground
His bounds make no sound

The beaming castle of the once-gestalt
The gardens of the sky that never halt
The market district full of jubilee
Perpetual and peaceful entropy

Once a fool to look into the past
Now he pays attention to the mast
Once entailed his failure to the sea
Perpetual and fleeting harmony

Now, we sway
Grasp your every day

A combination of solo acoustic guitar solo,
and dubstep trap hop electric heavy metal,

never settle,
because I’m never settled,
have always felt more judged than more loved,
ever since I was called black by the Kettle,

cut your nose off,
if it grows like Pinocchio,
no strings on me though,
nope no Gepetto,

no fairytales,
no cartoons no make believe,
just me alone and us together,
in this Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy,

and I love you,
whatever that means,
just trying to stay awake long enough,
to make it to another night of dreams,

hold me,
but don’t keep me to close,
see I want to want to want you,
but I’m too high to fly anything except solo,

a combination of solo acoustic guitar solo,
and dubstep trap hop electric heavy metal,

never settle,
because I’m never settled,
have always felt more judged than more loved,
ever since I was called black by the Kettle…

∆ LaLux ∆

Los Angeles, CA.
October 10th, 2018