After hearing Amy Winehouse on the radio this morning




Back To Black

Success, whatever it was, whatever
you thought it was, stuck its tongue
in your mouth, undressed you swiftly,
had its way, and left. The accolades
need not have led to emptiness,

smashed on  a cocktail of insecurity
and conceit;  nor soured your breath,
lay down on your voice the way
an LA heat-haze lays down
to smother morning breeze.

Nor pulled you into lights
that left you looking into black,
an audience out there somewhere,
gazing back, heads level with your feet.


Later published in Lucifer magazine
and The Great Animator (Shoestring Press 2017)




  1. Thank you Lesley. I haven’t written anything and spontaneously posted it on the internet for a long time- It can be liberating and I heard the song and pretty much wrote the first draft of the poem while the record was playing so it felt right. Thanks again for your comment – its lovely to get an immediate response!


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