One from the Archives
Mayflower girl surrounded by sins.
East coast blue blood coursing through her veins.
Santa Barbara born, raised in the bins,
Escaped to New York to ease her pains.
Poor little rich girl, embraced by the crowd.
She’s danced like a goddess
And the maker was proud.
Watching as she groped for love and affection.
Welcoming her with his arms open wide. She couldn’t
Much help it when “It” garnered attention.
He liked all the money and elite cache.
Edie and Andy sounded right, kindred spirits,
With each other to play.
Yet times were quickly changing,
As she was led into the dark.
She looked in the mirror; scarred and ravaged
How did she lose that brilliant spark?
Girl on fire rescued from the flame.
At the Chelsea hotel alone, how far
She had plunged from her fifteen minutes of fame.
Andy created his masterpiece with care.
Then watched as the pieces fell one by one,
Dominoes falling in unison to the sound of despair.
The day she died was just another day.
He pretended and postured, but the truth was in the end
He claimed be barely knew his fragile protégé.
Copyright ©2008 Veronica Romm
Some ideas for flowers- roses,amaryallis flowers- in red, casablanca lillies,Gerber daisies and Red cala lillies or purple. These are a start and each are beautiful in their own way.
very good poem, veronica. i enjoyed it greatly. by the way, if you haven’t read the oral biography of edie, i recommend that you do so as soon as you can. it was based on interviews done and collected by george plimpton and someone else whose name i can’t remember now.
What a great writer you are? So glad to have found you after finding me! I’ll be back.
Good to meet you, Veronica and thanks for your lovely support regarding my blog review.
I appreciate your kind words.
LK
Pingback: Celebrity News » Ode to Edie: Andy’s Superstar
Oh definitely, kids of today need to get some smurf love.
That’s it, my mission is now to find some guy with a guitar to make you a song out of those lyrics.
Wonderul poem, and the pictures add to the drama. Very creative.
That was beautiful, I wonder if you could turn it into a song? Very haunting, I have to go read up on my Warhol now 🙂
I love that quote on fame by Andy, and what a great poem to dance around the legend…nice 🙂
Loved the poem (and the pics). The Factory was Andy’s psychological voyeuristic torture chamber. Andy was much like Mengele. experimenting with yearning adherents and aspiring stars, instead of Nazi slaves. Andy would assemble various desperate souls, drug them, and delight in the fallout. An interesting cat nonetheless, especially his role in spawning one of my favorite bands, The Velvet Underground.
You will like Lou Reed’s lyrics to “Vicious”, a song dedicated to Andy.
Vicious
You hit me with a flower
You do it every hour
Ohh, baby you’re so vicious
Vicious
You want me to hit you with a stick
But all I’ve got’s a guitar pick
Huh… baby you’re so vicious
When I watch you come
I just want to run far away
You’re not the kind of person
Around whom I want to stay
When I see you comin’ down the street
I step on your hands and I mangle your feet
You’re not the kind of person that I wanna meet
Oh, baby, you’re so vicious
Vicious
You hit me with a flower
You do it every hour
Ohh, baby you’re so vicious
Vicious
Hey, why don’t you swallow razor blades
You must think I’m some kinda gay blade
But baby, you’re so vicious
When I watch you comin’
I just have to run
You’re not good and you certainly aren’t very much fun
When I see you walkin’ down the street
I step on your hand and I mangle your feet
You’re not the kind of person that I even wanna meet
‘Cause you’re so vicious