… …

And who tore the woman’s dress?

Or spoke to the heart of the bonnie gee?

Who glistened like a sap rose drenchéd?

Now that the nights wind hath abated

… …

Where fury settles ~ a gyr falcon

Cold as meat on a granite slab

the singers heart laid out in moments

warm half-notes rising, falling

… …

She sang to me so sweetly

Threw Jackson paint on my ambitions

Rolled paper joints full a’ musto

O Amy tis a shame about the fame

… …

You lit the a-dangerous firework

You didn’t stand alone though

Did not let your baby-love grow

Out the back of a fetid trash-truck 

… …

When I caught the blue fever

You were still dancing round the flames

Your hand on the rusty lever

And no one else to blame 

… …

Your beauty to me was so startling

Born of a yellow sun-flower golden

Travelling saloon worlds in red-healed shoes 

To become the lady who sings the blues

… …

Back to black n’lost in Hackensack

Ho’ lady, walkin’ round the town 

Voice as smooth as corn n’crack

On ha’ way down south ta’ N’Arleens

… …

And she could have been that queen

Whose lustre worn in clusters

Draped round her goddam’ midriff

The many hopes she mustered

… …

You feel there’s always people

Whose courage could embolden

Pockets fit to burst an’ swollen

Yet who n’are is carried by the moment?

… …

To watch and wait, not clean the slate

Or tell the girl her awe-filled fate

She so damn perty in her jeans

She so sexy in her blood-red skirt

… …

And all the while them dark angels

Dressed in black they gather at her back

To sing her deepest harmonies

O Amy Amy Amy, O Amy Amy Ameee!





Authors Note – I wonder at my own wisdom – to stick this piece that I have been working on for some while, out there – today of all days – while the world rages with Coronavirus whether imagined or real and people cancel this and postpone that – but if we do not live our lives to the fullest each day while not endangering any other life, then surely we disrespect all those who have already died and who fought to live or even survive in any age, or through any war, or within any regime or culture – Our creativity helps to keep us believing, it keeps us aspiring to greatness and to the hard work of attaining excellence.

Young Amy Winehouse maybe was a flawed personality but by no more or less than any one of us, except you might say that as a celebrity she lived her life under the spotlight of prying and intrusive eyes and for this may therefore have carried more ‘privilege’ and responsibility but I don’t know about that. As I understand it and I did not know Amy, she was a master of her craft but maybe not in the area of control. I am certainly no judge, no jury – for me I would say she was just ‘excellent’ and today or any other day that is quite simply – enough!

~ I hope you enjoy my honest tribute to a sensational singer, character and personality who died before her 28th birthday. It is a pity she did not live but then again who does? Amy should have – 15.03.2020



Dedicated to all those people who have sadly lost their lives due to the coronavirus outbreak.

About edenbray

I am a writer ... a beat poet who began writing poetry way back in 1966 ... 'edenbray is born ugly, wet, covered in blood, mucous & bodily functions, the effluence of my short life' ... I recently published my 1st solo Anthology - the best of 60 years writing - previously I ran my own Art Supplies Store for 40 yrs before I became a full-time writer I am a Blogger who has posted 1,000 poems - available in 24 themed booklets ... please ask for details + leave a 'like' or a comment for my encouragement, thank you so much for listening - I truly value your opinion on my work ~ in fact I literally survive on your creative input ~ edenbray
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