Tony Slattery - d. January 14th 2025

The next game is called Party Quirks.
Tony, I want you to be funny in the
style of a man who doesn’t realise
how funny he actually is, a clown
with movie star eyes, who becomes
the punchline to a joke he cannot tell. 

Read about Tony Slattery here

Laurie Holloway - d. January 9th 2025

The star act steps onto set;
house band hits its cue,
a drum-roll, a brass sting,
strung to the tip of a baton.
Fame is a tight arrangement,
its accompanist often in shadow.

Read about Laurie Holloway here

Sam Moore - d. January 10th 2025

You came to us on a dusty road,
selling guarantees at the top end
of your range, swimming rivers of
trouble to pay the bills, proving that
horns may be the lungs of a song,
but they cannot breathe without soul.

Read about Sam Moore here

David Lodge – d. January 5th 2025

Teaching is nice work if you can
get it; an exam one is free to fail.
Writing, even the smallest word,
is the pursuit of story as a grail.
Language is the keenest blade,
sharpening even the bluntest tale. 

Read about David Lodge here

Johnnie Walker – d. December 31st 2024

The sea reflects sound, music
that the law cannot constrain;
rock psychedelicacies, glam,
and every shade of groovy.
I hear swingin’ station idents
from beyond the 12-mile limit
sing your name into the night. 

Read about Johnnie Walker here

Jimmy Carter – d. December 29th 2024

Trust me. I lived through a time
when crooks and bigots beat on
doors only to be turned away,
when circumspection was no crime,
people meant more than peanuts,
and leaders marched on Labor Day.

Read about Jimmy Carter here

Olivia Hussey – d. December 27th 2024

I stand at the foot of your balcony,
enslaved by eyes all over again,
green and boundless as the sea,
saying that the first crush is pain,
that the Romeo would never be me.

Read about Olivia Hussey here

Sugar Pie DeSanto – d. December 20th 2024

Someone set fire to the stage tonight:
a woman with body of a child,
voice like an emery board, dynamite
in a dress, ten types of wild
in every song, unquenchably alight.

Read about Sugar Pie DeSanto here

Julie Stevens – d. December 5th 2024

Here’s a house; here’s a door.
Here’s a woman; now no more.
Here’s the hour; here’s the day.
Here’s a game; let’s all play.
Here’s a child; watch him grow.
Here’s his life; let him go.

Read about Julie Stevens here

Duncan Norvelle – d. December 12th 2024

Innocence is a comedian’s friend;
a licence for sweet insinuation, for
the grin of a man who knows that
when he asks us to chase them
he knows that someone always will.

Read about Duncan Norvelle here

Kreskin – d. December 10th 2024

You predicted the date of your death, not
by magic but the unwritten science of the
sideshow, a guessing game where you’re
looking for an answer the rest of us already
know. You’re cold. Getting colder. Ice cold.

Read about Kreskin here

Dickie Rock – d. December 6th 2024

It’s Lent and you’re in town again,

flushing dismal ballrooms with colour,
your candy-store smile mowing down
the front row, teenage banshees with
wild hair, keening Spit on me, Dickie!

Read about Dickie Rock here

Terry Griffiths – d. December 1st 2024

You stopped between pots to chat,
as if still playing the provincial halls,
so I wrote this slowly, each word
a ghost ball sighted and weighed-up
on the glacial landscape of baize. 

Read about Terry Griffiths here

Barbara Taylor Bradford – d. November 24th 2024

You did not write for me
but for such as my mum,
closer to rags than to riches,
who could not bear to see
herself in character; of some
little substance in her kitchen.

Read about Barbara Taylor Bradford here

Charles Dumont – d. November 18th 2024

Je suis la voix du trottoir
et une arrière-salle enfumée.
Mes mots restent dans la bouche,
mes mélodies fermentent dans l'oreille.
Je suis un verre de vin et de regret.
 
I am the voice of the pavement
and smoke-soused back room.
My words lodge in the mouth,
my melodies ferment in the ear.
I am a glass of wine, and regret.

Read about Charles Dumont here