An #Otwituary for film-maker #PeterWatkins
The content of this Otwituary
has been judged to be too
horrifying for social media;
no firestorms burning through
Home Counties, no fallout, no
looters shot on the street, only
this nightmare, filmed as truth.
The content of this Otwituary
has been judged to be too
horrifying for social media;
no firestorms burning through
Home Counties, no fallout, no
looters shot on the street, only
this nightmare, filmed as truth.
November 1, 2025 at 9:35 AM
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An #Otwituary for #FawltyTowers actor #PrunellaScales
I hear a laugh from another room,
the sound of Medusa cross-bred
with a hyena. To see her up close
is to step closer to death; death
by stare, by word, by comic gelding.
I hear a laugh from another room,
the sound of Medusa cross-bred
with a hyena. To see her up close
is to step closer to death; death
by stare, by word, by comic gelding.
October 28, 2025 at 5:30 PM
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An #Otwituary for #Crossroads actor #TonyAdams
I saw Mephistopheles checking out
of the semi-derelict motel just off
the Kings Oak bypass; moustache,
and sta-prest suit, already on his
third flirtation of the day, recording
each soul in a double-entry ledger.
I saw Mephistopheles checking out
of the semi-derelict motel just off
the Kings Oak bypass; moustache,
and sta-prest suit, already on his
third flirtation of the day, recording
each soul in a double-entry ledger.
October 27, 2025 at 10:11 AM
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An #Otwituary for actor #SamanthaEggar
Beauty begets terror, terror begets horror;
before you can blink, you see the screen
closing in like the walls of a cell, noticing
that each role is darker than the last.
Beauty begets terror, terror begets horror;
before you can blink, you see the screen
closing in like the walls of a cell, noticing
that each role is darker than the last.
October 23, 2025 at 11:02 PM
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An #Otwituary for #SoftCell musician #DaveBall
Life is a non-stop cabaret, and this is
the sound of the house band, pitched
somewhere between bliss and blitz,
songs to dance to, songs of despair,
battle-scars of all the good times.
Life is a non-stop cabaret, and this is
the sound of the house band, pitched
somewhere between bliss and blitz,
songs to dance to, songs of despair,
battle-scars of all the good times.
October 23, 2025 at 1:59 PM
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An #Otwituary for songwriter #BobbyHart
Airwaves drip with saccharine
in a poisonous world, but there’s
a song that’s getting the funniest
looks from everyone it meets.
A man smiles, takes the last train,
forever blowing bubblegum.
Airwaves drip with saccharine
in a poisonous world, but there’s
a song that’s getting the funniest
looks from everyone it meets.
A man smiles, takes the last train,
forever blowing bubblegum.
October 19, 2025 at 3:49 PM
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An #Otwituary for actor #TonyCaunter
Would you buy a used plotline
from this man, who looks like
a bear but walks like a stray dog,
cuckolded in the name of drama,
looking for love and a decent pint
in a postcode that doesn’t exist.
Would you buy a used plotline
from this man, who looks like
a bear but walks like a stray dog,
cuckolded in the name of drama,
looking for love and a decent pint
in a postcode that doesn’t exist.
October 14, 2025 at 7:43 PM
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An #Otwituary for actor #DianeKeaton
In the movies, there is always more than
mere love and death; what about those
dizzy ingénues, women caught between
socialite and socialist, the lost and the
sweetly damaged, playing for laughs in
the diners and bedrooms of our hearts?
In the movies, there is always more than
mere love and death; what about those
dizzy ingénues, women caught between
socialite and socialist, the lost and the
sweetly damaged, playing for laughs in
the diners and bedrooms of our hearts?
October 11, 2025 at 8:44 PM
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An #Otwituary for #MoodyBlues bassist #JohnLodge
Isn’t life strange? I have lived mine
through music, each era a disguise,
each movement like a new religion.
Not for me the future in the past;
I would have given anything to be
the singer in a rock’n’roll band.
Isn’t life strange? I have lived mine
through music, each era a disguise,
each movement like a new religion.
Not for me the future in the past;
I would have given anything to be
the singer in a rock’n’roll band.
October 10, 2025 at 6:54 PM
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An #Otwituary for evergreen actor #JohnWoodvine
Whenever I change channels
there is the residue of a face
in the blink before and after
static, a man of a thousand
faces, all of them the same,
all carved from cold stone.
Whenever I change channels
there is the residue of a face
in the blink before and after
static, a man of a thousand
faces, all of them the same,
all carved from cold stone.
October 6, 2025 at 9:38 PM
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An #Otwituary for novelist #JillyCooper
I write this from my lover’s unmade bed,
far from her paddocks and gymkhanas.
She dresses me in hunting pinks, asks
me to spank her with her daddy’s crop
before handing me a novel, sighing,
saying Why can’t you be more like him?
I write this from my lover’s unmade bed,
far from her paddocks and gymkhanas.
She dresses me in hunting pinks, asks
me to spank her with her daddy’s crop
before handing me a novel, sighing,
saying Why can’t you be more like him?
October 6, 2025 at 10:19 AM
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A slightly belated Otwituary for poet Brian Patten.
(I should say I’m wary of Otwituarising fellow poets - I feel that should fall to writers with a better insight into the late poet’s work. Thanks to Kevin McCann for the encouragement to do this one.)
(I should say I’m wary of Otwituarising fellow poets - I feel that should fall to writers with a better insight into the late poet’s work. Thanks to Kevin McCann for the encouragement to do this one.)
October 4, 2025 at 9:30 AM
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An #Otwituary for actor #PatriciaRoutledge
Here is the mirror of a furtive England;
telephone voices and antimacassars,
foundation garments and Rotary Clubs,
the arch drama of sweet domesticity,
artificial and yet authentic all at once.
Here is the mirror of a furtive England;
telephone voices and antimacassars,
foundation garments and Rotary Clubs,
the arch drama of sweet domesticity,
artificial and yet authentic all at once.
October 3, 2025 at 10:45 AM
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An #Otwituary for anthropologist and conservationist #JaneGoodall
I ask, one primate to another,
where I came from, imagining
my simian family on their lonely
hillside, of their devoted steward
offering gifts of love and curiosity,
holding out a hand like a mother.
I ask, one primate to another,
where I came from, imagining
my simian family on their lonely
hillside, of their devoted steward
offering gifts of love and curiosity,
holding out a hand like a mother.
October 2, 2025 at 3:58 PM
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An #Otwituary for politician #MenziesCampbell
Don't you long for the old politics;?
Where the middle way is still a way,
where to have convictions does not
mean that you have been convicted,
where the race is only with oneself
and the mediocre need not apply.
Don't you long for the old politics;?
Where the middle way is still a way,
where to have convictions does not
mean that you have been convicted,
where the race is only with oneself
and the mediocre need not apply.
September 26, 2025 at 1:24 PM
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An #Otwituary for bass player #DannyThompson
At the root of everything is bass; a fluid
heartbeat picked out on four fat strings.
Let them talk about technique; style is
the only style, trusting your ears to tell
your fingers where to go, what to say.
At the root of everything is bass; a fluid
heartbeat picked out on four fat strings.
Let them talk about technique; style is
the only style, trusting your ears to tell
your fingers where to go, what to say.
September 24, 2025 at 10:47 PM
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An #Otwituary for cricket umpire Harold ‘Dickie’ Bird #dickiebird
The light meters are coming out, but
something more than light is fading.
The bails come off, the nightwatchman
shakes your hand, certain in the
knowledge that there is a corner of
a foreign field that is forever Barnsley.
The light meters are coming out, but
something more than light is fading.
The bails come off, the nightwatchman
shakes your hand, certain in the
knowledge that there is a corner of
a foreign field that is forever Barnsley.
September 23, 2025 at 12:13 PM
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An #Otwituary for journalist and presenter (and Man City fan) #JohnStapleton
We cannot live our lives on the small screen;
we must find our time, our place, unknown
to all except the journalist who realises that
there are no bigger stories than our own.
We cannot live our lives on the small screen;
we must find our time, our place, unknown
to all except the journalist who realises that
there are no bigger stories than our own.
September 21, 2025 at 7:05 PM
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An #Otwituary for #Crickets musician #SonnyCurtis
What did they play on the radio,
on the day after the music died?
They played songs you don’t hear
anymore; stories of strange lives
made straight, written for no-one.
You wrote the songs; the songs won.
What did they play on the radio,
on the day after the music died?
They played songs you don’t hear
anymore; stories of strange lives
made straight, written for no-one.
You wrote the songs; the songs won.
September 20, 2025 at 8:18 PM
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An #Otwituary for actor #RobertRedford
All outlaws are handsome in Hollywood,
charm school graduates summa cum laude,
making dangerous look fun, standing for something, not standing for other things,
fashioning stories from the best of dreams.
All outlaws are handsome in Hollywood,
charm school graduates summa cum laude,
making dangerous look fun, standing for something, not standing for other things,
fashioning stories from the best of dreams.
September 16, 2025 at 12:43 PM
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An #Otwituary for #StephenLuscombe of #synthpop band #Blancmange
To be so young and so cool,
and yet so close to nirvana.
I’ve seen the word; it’s cruel.
I hear your music once again;
melody is the true dharma.
Sad day. I can’t explain.
To be so young and so cool,
and yet so close to nirvana.
I’ve seen the word; it’s cruel.
I hear your music once again;
melody is the true dharma.
Sad day. I can’t explain.
September 14, 2025 at 2:40 PM
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An #Otwituary for boxer #RickyHatton
I saw a man made of leather,
working the heavy bag, arms
blurring from jab to uppercut,
eyes glittering like a title belt.
His mouth breaks into a smile,
to reveal a mouthful of nails.
I saw a man made of leather,
working the heavy bag, arms
blurring from jab to uppercut,
eyes glittering like a title belt.
His mouth breaks into a smile,
to reveal a mouthful of nails.
September 14, 2025 at 2:14 PM
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An #Otwituary for the first U.K. superstar DJ #ChrisHill
Here’s to the prophets of the groove,
a denomination somewhere between
funk, soul and jazz, a fervent scene
that few have power to truly move.
Beats per minute are the sacred text.
One track finishes; cue up the next.
Here’s to the prophets of the groove,
a denomination somewhere between
funk, soul and jazz, a fervent scene
that few have power to truly move.
Beats per minute are the sacred text.
One track finishes; cue up the next.
September 12, 2025 at 8:58 AM
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An #Otwituary for fashion designer #GiorgioArmani
My suit does not wear me, but
it is empty without me. I stoop
to tie my lace; it bends with me.
At day’s end, we climb the stairs,
undress, and hang each other
in the dark wardrobe of sleep.
My suit does not wear me, but
it is empty without me. I stoop
to tie my lace; it bends with me.
At day’s end, we climb the stairs,
undress, and hang each other
in the dark wardrobe of sleep.
September 4, 2025 at 8:10 PM
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An #Otwituary for boxer #JoeBugner
The distance is a long way to go
when all around are cheering
for the other man. Sparring
with legends, you must know,
is a tough way for a man to win;
the other way is never to give in.
The distance is a long way to go
when all around are cheering
for the other man. Sparring
with legends, you must know,
is a tough way for a man to win;
the other way is never to give in.
September 1, 2025 at 8:36 PM
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