She pinches the hem,
crushed satin tacked
secured with a single
Gordian knot,
a safeguard that fumbled
stitches won’t unravel
and reveal
that black line drawn
with kohl;
some vain attempt
to sexualise this naïve form,
this pretence that reluctantly
demands attention.
She pulls it, pinches,
drags it up revealing
porcelain skin and
catholic guilts
as the drummer
teases and rolls
her slight dip,
head bowed with her
curtsey in servitude.
Filed under: narnie | Tagged: Amy Winehouse, poetry, riff, writing |
The Orchid Room 
That is the perfect Orchid Room poem. The poet as audience reacting to the performer. Inhabiting the performer in a way. Magical. And Jazz, more champagne, I say,
revealing porcelein skin and catholic guilts–bravo!! bravo!!
always more champagne, always something to celebrate here in the Orchid Room!
hmmm…. this seemed to eeeeluciidatte something about Amy W I hadn’t considered. In short I feel sorry for the real Amy as I do for the subject of this poem, so a commendable job. You brought out the frailty of the performer superbly. A crush with eyeliner. cool. A lullaby for Winehouse, perhaps. pathos, subtlty, beauty, sympathy. nice
this might be of interest, my heart really went out to Amy when I saw this gameshow appearance. as raw and emotional as this poem – once again I’m never really sure how much reality we all want, but anyway here it is
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=ihFzr8QPfOg
it is a great tribute to amy , very well done. (I like her, she writes beautiful stanzas and unlike me she can sing them too)
wow peter that’s something really i mean laughing and crying at the same time
we really should stop gossipping about her tho–isn’t she about to sing or something?
I saw that episode of Buzzcocks Peter… it’s kind of like car crash telly but then sometimes (like Tara Palmer Tomkinson) those appearances can hold a mirror to it and make them help themselves. I just fear she’s maybe too far over the edge now.
Glad you all liked the poem, thank you. 🙂
Do you serve JD?
Waiter! Get a bottle of JD and bring it to my table. (oh alright I’ll do it myself. So hard to get good help these days.) Hello,
like a marionette, jerkily tapping the rhythm
wonderful Narnie. Really good to have you back.