Southall Girl

Gold cherry

By Philip Sidney

Sat, 10 Jun 2017
  • 3326 reads
11 comments
 

Doreen of the twilight shift suffers with her nerves,
leaves them with her handbag to join the line-up at the belt -
strip lit, focus down, this is all there is, the needle, the knife,
cotton and white, flashing through her fingers, candyfloss hair
escapes the net, she nods in time to the rocksteady beat,
hand and machine dance to their tune, life speeded up, running with the reel,
a quip, a laugh, a trip to the loo for a drag on a fag and to add
bubble-gum pink to her lips, it lifts her heart
which bangs in her chest
as she sets back to the treadle and the crash and the jolting and the smash
to shake away herself -
she breathes in deep on the dust and soon 
she’ll  be clipping on the concrete floor like she’s strutting and flouncing
at The Hunters' Moon -
barley wine on her lips.

Certificate 12
Poem

Comments

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

I really like this - was there something in particular which inspired you to write it - like a photo? some piece of social history?

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Thanks Insert, I worked the twilight shift at Southalls - a long gone factory in Birmingham - 35 years ago, and met lots of women like this, I was thinking about them.

Thank you for the cherries smiley

Submitted by rjnewlyn on

This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day! Please share/retweet if you like it

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Thank you so much for the pick!  One for those girls smiley

Submitted by rjnewlyn on

I was glad of the explanation given to Insert. The first time I read it, I thought it was about drug taking (dust inhalation) in Southall, W London, but then was wondering why she was called Doreen (not a particularly typical name for that district or lifestyle). I thought it was just as good a poem though ... Rob

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

I thought it was about Southall in Middx too - but perhaps some factory/social history thing I hadn't heard of. We're too london-centric obviously!

 

Submitted by catherine poarch on

I found this really moving, especially with the explanation of where she is. I loved how it packed so much description into a short space. And especially leaving her nerves with her handbag. 

 

Submitted by jeand on

Hi Helen

Lovely poem, and such a vivid word picture you paint.

Jean

Jean Day

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Helen,

this was a reminder of my own time working in a factory on nights. Not quite the same job, but you described those twilight hours perfectly and the atmosphere of factory dust and the business of the people.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by celticman on

trouble with your nerves - and no wonder, but this catches them. 

 

Submitted by Pat G on

I like the analogy with drug-taking suggested by rjnewlyn. The poem is redolent of that hollow, night-time, thumping-chest, speeded-up sorrow.