how you would say it: with solemnity and
sweet inspiration, from a chorale of sisters,
cousins, daughters, beautifully tragic but
painted with the coloratura of greatness.
Wednesday, 9 October 2024
Cissy Houston – d. October 7th 2024
how you would say it: with solemnity and
sweet inspiration, from a chorale of sisters,
cousins, daughters, beautifully tragic but
painted with the coloratura of greatness.
Kris Kristofferson – d. September 28th 2024
though some choose dirty denim over rhinestones,
writing the lonesome sound of the comedown,
of a morning lost and found on a sleeping sidewalk.
Maggie Smith – d. September 27th 2024
nor expression, nor the potential of line
and delivery. Acting is a lonely passion;
its virtuosi are deathlessly in their prime.
David Graham – d. September 20th 2024
into some supermarionated future,
where we har beyond rescue, where
hour haccents betray us, and life
halways ‘as strings hattached, milady.
Tony Soper – d. September 18th 2024
except on television. I stood alone at the
wrong end of my binoculars, peering at
a man in Barbour in his own quiet paradise.
And that thing with feathers? It
was hope.
Salvatore ‘Toto’ Schillaci – d. September 18th 2024
A volte il fantasma dello spogliatoio
avvita diamanti al posto di borchie,
e per un mese soleggiato, ogni passaggio
va ai piedi, ogni tiro segnava.
avvita diamanti al posto di borchie,
e per un mese soleggiato, ogni passaggio
va ai piedi, ogni tiro segnava.
La stagione finisce; il fantasma se n’è andato.
Sometimes the ghost of the
bootroom
screws in diamonds instead of studs,
and for a sunlit month, every pass
goes to feet, every shot screams in.
The season ends; the ghost is gone.
screws in diamonds instead of studs,
and for a sunlit month, every pass
goes to feet, every shot screams in.
The season ends; the ghost is gone.
Kenneth Cope – d. September 11th 2024
in a minor hit, a short run. You stole
like Pepper’s ghost through walls of
imagination, white on white, bitter as
a dead man set to die a second time.
James Earl Jones - d. September 9th 2024
plutonic darkness made human, gravity
that cannot be resisted. It is authority
and compassion. It is both the presence
and absence of a man, felt and heard.
Zoot Money – d. September 8th 2024
the blown amps, discs that slipped
into the guts of the jukebox, or you
could roll the big roll, playing what
you love, loving what you play.
Herbie Flowers – d. September 5th 2024
the mannered frontmen; leave
just the bass in all its fullness,
leading from the back, beyond
its lowest frequencies, bending
time and colour and memory.
Sérgio Mendes – d. September 5th 2024
da praia e da favela,
música no tom da alegria,
cana de açúcar e sorrisos,
eternamente quente,
eternamente frio.
from praia and favela,
songs in the key of joy,
sugar cane and smiles,
forever hot, forever cool.
Brian Trueman – d. September 1st 2024
a Wheelie-World, a Cuckoo-Land,
where a hand writes a childhood,
teaches funny voices, shows how
silly is just a stop on the road
to the fleeting kingdom of happy.
Phil ‘The Collector’ Swern – d. August 31st 2024
who owned every record ever pressed
and stored them in a church of memory.
Such a man would be worth their weight
in vinyl. I’ll have to take your first answer.
Tuesday, 27 August 2024
Sven-Göran Eriksson – d. August 26th 2024
in how the game is played;
with charisma, effort, libido.
We have to trust in tactics;
this might only be half-time,
we might still turn this round.
Alain Delon – d. August 18th 2024
Être éclairé comme le jour, par votre propre feu.
Avoir des ennuis; ce que tu penses, dis.
Être beau, même jusqu'au bout.
Vivre là où les autres ne peuvent jouer la comédie.
To be lit like day, by your own fire.
To be trouble; what you think, say.
To be handsome, even to the end.
To live where others can only act.
Gena Rowlands – d. August 14th 2024
blurring; the edge of love, of
sanity, decency, where youth
tips into middle-age, where
celebrity pales into ambiguity,
where you turn into your myth.
Edna O’Brien – d. July 27th 2024
those men who would be gods. Rage
from a pulpit of words so we may learn
of little emancipations on every page.
from a pulpit of words so we may learn
of little emancipations on every page.
John Mayall – d. July 22nd 2024
back together again and play for you;
the Class-A team, rootsmen and virtuosi,
stoned bassists, witchdoctors, even God,
strutting through the door you held open.
Abdul ‘Duke’ Fakir – d. July 22nd 2024
for harmonies to break, only to be re-sung.
The empty sidewalks on my block used to play
your songs, the sad symphonies of the young
and lovelorn. I reach out. They are still there.
Ray Reardon – d. July 19th 2024
the chalk-marked victim lies on his back.
For those of you watching in black and white
the Count of the Cue is the one in the black.
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