The time has come, for me to fray
the long lost fortune peace and joy
and i peep all around to see a ray
to give me hope and stop to cry
in the face of dispair, i will still try
it feels like hell and i need to fly

am about to burst and am full of thought
then if she left to me its draught
the touch of her hand and a kiss so hot
swimming basking and the fish we caught
fear and doubt with love we fought
she always escaped to what we ought

then came the insighter and he seemed brighter
taking her out and treating her better
Using a phone when i used letters
things were hard especially with a competitor
forgot me complete together with her litter
it seemed to her there was nothing sweeter

after utelizing the better of her best
he disposed her and then left
she had some pain in the chest
when she came in serch for rest
she was mine but we had to test
to avoid being hung like a nest

A drop of blood and a little buffer
recalled how our children would suffer
if through ignorance our life was vapour
my test was a line and my partners twice
why would life be so very  unfair?
her episode was so shortlived

yet she left me huge a burden
to the kids we had i was both parents
just be cause she wouldn't heed
even doctors advice on adherence
all in all i had to say goodbye
coz she was mine for the time we spent

what i am now going through
is a fruit of ignorance and disobedience
my urge my prayer,
that not one falls into the same
it's so easy to say that,
lets avoid the idea of shame
by first escaping the blame
by keeping ourselfs tame.

Static crackling ecstatically; manic pop
Transistor hissing and spitting; sideboard atop
                                      First when there’s nothing…
                                      But a slow glowing dream…

Pirouette such as whirling dervish makes
Adolescent prancer twirls; leg warmer fakes
                                      All alone I have cried…
                                      Silent tears full of pride…

Breathless incantation; future forged in dance
Performance fascination; leap upon the chance
                                      What a feeling...
                                      Bein’s believing…

Neon flashes bedeck wrists and bonce
Peers laughter flash like fire; a ponce
                                      Take your passion…
                                      And make it happen…

The music shields, deflects. Antacid; taunts abate
Rhyhmic dreamer energized; blind to all the hate
                                      Pictures come alive…
                                      You can dance right through your life…



As Bergen-Belsen ghost yet still aware
Lost dreamer segues silently on fetid air
                                       Bruised and battered, I couldn’t tell what I felt…
                                       I am unrecognizable to myself…

Shuffling as garish Geisha; white but not with paint
Breathless as fifties bombshell; heaving sick and feint
                                      At night I could hear the blood in my veins…
                                      It was black and whispering as the rain…

With steel partner; straight firm and slim of hip
Rigid in rigor’d waltz; moving labouredly with drip
                                      I walked the avenue, ‘til my legs felt like stone…
                                      I heard the voices of friends, vanished and gone…

Faithless rusting engine combusts toxic blood
Failing sack of sinew lies where dancer stood
                                      Night has fallen, I’m lyin’ awake…
                                      I can feel myself fading away…

Monotone white noise; assuring beep
Dancer dreams in endless sleep
                                     There was a time when men were kind…
                                     There was a time when love was blind…

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness – 2018 – All rights reserved)

Acknowledgements:

1. Flashdance… what a Feeling (1983 – Giorgio Moroder, Keith Forsey & Irene Cara)
2. The Streets of Philadelphia (1993 – Bruce Springsteen)
3. I Dreamed a Dream (Les Miserables – Claude Michel Schonberg, Herbert Kretzmer & Alain Boubil)

There was a man from Birtley,
when I met him he really hurt me,
He kicked me in the face,
and another mysterious place,
Now I have H.I.V.

These charcoal dark shadows hang beneath eyes of carbon blue.
Carrying the memories of sinister scenes, washed clean, but stained with the salt of regret.
Shame.
Mortification.
The sorrows of living within the frame of some unseen stranger's lack of obligation- irreverent and unattending to the consequences of unrestrained pleasure.
In the background, the slick black vapor slides back into illusion's nest, unfound. Within this restless cradle, ever-raging, silent battles fought.
That daily dose which nearly burned and boiled and blotted them out.
Never triumphant.
A pawn in a profiteer's pyramid scheme.
A beast in bloom, bound to eternal flowering.
Poverty empowering the privileged hand. Our death, stretched far and wide still tortures and taunts and tears us from peace- day after day, week after week, and year after year.
Trapped in a cage whose bars are not there. Whose locks have no key.
We scream and cry til out voices break and our tonsils bleed, but no one on the other side can hear.
We play our part for family and friends but deep down inside we know how this ends. We pretend to go on, but we know we are dead.
We are victims of big pharma and our ribbon is red.

I woke up to screams from a stolen razor.    Where is it?   It was a loud scream.          The end comes swiftly, anyway,
and, if there are no razors around, it comes even faster.                        
 
At the top of the mountain, the anger flows to the valley, and there is no scream.                                  
In the valley, we wait.                
There is a pull from a cigarette.                               
Small talk that is not small talk.                                        
A man wheezes   
A woman wonders where she'll go tomorrow                                          
it comes out as a laugh
                  and lightly in the background plays a song that can only be called the disease of the 80's.                                       
 
We didn't need another.                                     

But, thank you.

Breathe...
I walk into your room,
And turn away from the caution sign that greets me.
The room is cold and smells of disinfectant.
I creep up beside you so as not to have you wake.
I avoid the lines that provide you life.
How small and helpless you seem.
Just a fragment of your former self.
A stranger...

I hear someone enter the room and I turn my head towards them.
The judgement and embarrassment are evident on their face.
I feel pity from those who watch his torment.
Eye contact is avoided.
They recoil from his touch and reach for the gloves,
That place a barrier between them.
I turn back towards my father.
So many memories...
Both good and bad.
I focus on the memories filled with joy.
The ones I wish to remember you by.
I keep the pain buried deep below the surface of my heart.

The silence is unbearable.
I reach for your hand and you turn your head towards me.
Your smile is quiet and no longer reaches your eyes.
There is no need to speak.
I feel the anger bubbling up inside me.
At the thought of the pain you must endure.
So many others out there in the world
But you were chosen to bear the stigma.
How did he contract it?
Is he gay or an addict?
I tried to ignore their ignorance,
But I just want to hurt them,
And have them share our pain.

I remember the day they told us,
"Sir you have AIDS".
I froze and looked up at you.
You told me it would be okay.
A lie to protect me from what the future would bring.
The end is near.
I love you Dee with all my heart,
And I will share your memories.
I give you one last kiss before you close your eyes,
You will now be free of the pain in this world,
Let your soul finally find peace.
I say goodbye for the last time,
And watch your breath fade away.

Worm eats through to penetrate.
Trespasses, what ***** deeds?
What ichor is this to venerate?
How dare eat, how dare have needs?

Godly viral load unbeatable,
no t-cell left to count.
Wriggling in puddle inconceivable,
**** upon this crucified mount.

Lazarus, risen from the dead,
no dog now licks your wounds.
Lepers now banshees are instead
social workers which we swoon.

And the Roman laws and judges
continue blame, hand down sentence,
as degenerative generation smudges
out from existence, ***+ penance.

Dissected and pinned against wall,
this writhing experiment oozes.
Whilst priests and politicians naw,
compassion and AIDS funding loses.

I’m sure it has happened
To many other people before.
There comes a moment
A feeling one cannot ignore.
A want, a drive, an impulse
To have, to hold, to own
Something, someone or
A moment that is yours alone.

At a party, a face appeared
And our two eyes connected.
It seemed we were talking;
A dialogue was being erected.
A relationship of mere moments,
It seemed powerfully right.
And at just that one moment
Nothing could be more right.

We left the party immediately
And went to my place to see
If followers through with feeling
What just the right thing to be.
It was all a wonderful adventure.
I am sure we had no kind of fear.
It was an accident of timing,
One I would suffer for years.

Twice more and we were broken,
Never to be together again.
No thoughts about if ever
Not a question about when.
And after the last evening
I knew things had moved on.
When I looked into my wallet.
All of my money was gone.

All because of impatience
And not wanting to be alone
I let myself fall into a kind of
Rock and roll Twilight Zone.
Why didn’t I ask more questions?
Because in that single moment
I wanted a fantasy romance.
Nothing was more important.

It was months later I discovered
In a routine visit to my doctor
That I had contracted a disease
That would ruin my life forever.
They didn’t know what to call it
In those days before the name.
Those were the days before AIDS
And it’s horrific kind of sick fame.

And they had no way to treat it
So, most of us just quickly died.
We had no ability to resist it.
We had no resistance inside.
We lost all our friends and lovers
Because for one single moment
That one evening with a stranger,
Nothing was more important.

I fell into a frenzy of not caring,
Drugs and drink and debauchery.
I felt I had lost all hope in life
And lost all my chance at dignity.
Of course that made me sicker
My resistance went down further.
I no longer wanted to live like that
I was sick of my life altogether.

I am writing this to you, today
So you can share it with others.
Tell people that getting laid
Is not the same as a lover.
Point to me and advise them
We may have just one moment
For valuing ourselves as a person
Nothing must be more important.


(This is dedicated to many of my friends over the decades that suffered from *** and AIDS related issues.)