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Randy Johnson May 20
He was a British actor who died on the 20th of May.
He died in 1996, he died twenty-five years ago today.
He was an extremely talented actor and his name was Jon Pertwee.
It's hard to believe that he has been dead for a quarter of a century.
He starred as the third incarnation of the Doctor in "Doctor Who" half a century ago.
About one decade later, Pertwee starred in "Worzel Gummidge" as a dumb scarecrow.
A teacher told Jon that he'd never amount to anything as an actor but he was full of crap.
That teacher was so wrong and Pertwee should've given him a slap.
Pertwee died of a heart attack in his sleep while he was visiting the United States.
When people learned about his death, it was something that millions would hate.
Pertwee said that Worzel Gummidge was his favorite of the characters who he portrayed.
It's very sad to know that this brilliant actor has been deceased for two and a half decades.
He was in Connecticut when he passed away and his body was cremated.
When he left this earth in 1996, his friends, family and fans were devastated.
Dedicated to Jon Pertwee (1919-1996) who died twenty-five years ago today on May 20, 1996
Norman Crane Apr 29
The British anthropologist enjoyed rare tribesmen.
But after seeing his article published in the prestigious Journal of Anthropological Research,
he kept the poor man on the coals a little longer,
thinking, "Well done, old chap."
Randy Johnson Apr 18
He was a great actor but sadly, he's not alive anymore.
He died thirty-seven years ago today on April 18, 1984.
He starred in "Moby ****" and "The Man Who Could Cheat Death".
Thirty-seven years ago, he went to Heaven after he took his final breath.
He starred in "Ten Minute Alibi" and an episode of "Doctor Who".
He was a gifted British actor and all of his fans know that is true.
He starred in "From Russia With Love", "Triple Cross" and "The Liquidator".
Francis died in 1984 and his talent is still appreciated thirty-seven years later.
Dedicated to Francis De Wolff (1913-1984) who died on April 18, 1984
His touch was
like sunlight on my skin
the sweeping skim of kelp across marbled coat
his webbed fingers tracking their rough edges
through the sand.
In the storm's howl he was calm
the chaos of waves in my belly slowed
an unearthly peace
of tide-pool eyes that stilled the seventh stream.  
The waves roll out and the waves roll in
and out my love rolls with them.
Seven tears shed at Spring tide
for love of a man
whose heart
is sea bound,
Orkney Selkie Legend:
Renie Simone Feb 11
We see things that other females
don’t pay a tuppence to.
Like a half-burned cigarette tail,
Your osculation of deep, dense rouge—
A secret trusted only by two.
With our own hands, we mimic time
And manipulate the world you once knew.
Falling in love with a writer is a faulty design.

To your heart, we assail
With words plunked to a tune;
In your soul, with great force, we impale.
From a love-front angle of view
You might feel a tad misconstrued,
like a poorly mixed cocktail.
Ricochet from baseline to fault line,
But every time you pull through ‘cause you knew,
That falling in love with a writer is a broken design.

When we close our eyes and slowly inhale;
We hear the laughter of a family in an empty room
And unveil the retold, recycled tales.
Picturing why the dust rests less heavily on one broom,
And can smell the meal Ma cooked when they came home from school.
From the underworld and past the skyline,
We scour everything down to its last detail.
Falling in love with a writer is a grueling design.

To us, your eyes flourish like flowers in June
With lips– silky like cabernet wine.
And although sometimes we forget to say we love you,
Remember that falling in love with a writer can be a beautiful design.
I can't remember what kind of poetry this was inspired by, any helpers? I wrote this in school while I still had Love in June engraved in my head.
I'm obsessed with these two boys, that I'll never meet.
I love to hear them make noise, I think it's very sweet. 
They changed my life for the good, and I can never thank them.
I'd hug them if I could, say all the things I've been wanting to say to 'em. 
I listen to them everyday, no matter in what way it is.
It could be in my mind as I lay, relaxing in pure bliss. 
They're in my head and they won't leave, it's getting to be painful, knowing we'll never meet.
Their songs, are telling me to believe, but it's getting hard, I'm feeling defeat...
When I wrote, in like 2018, it was about my favorite music duo, Bars and Melody. They saved my life with their music. They will forever be in my heart.
Alice Weatherley Apr 2020
We feel ourselves rogue and peasant slaves -
In that is no disgust.
Collectively yet to have been stripped of
Our formalities, plunged into fiction, devoid of normality -
An undiscovered country, if you must.

We doze cosy in dreams of passion
Where space and silence nudges pens; they bleed.
Though liquidity stiffens
Flair and genius warm the air
Assuming a pleasing shape, indeed.

We weep under a broken voice
When seas of trouble rise to strike us down.
Remorseless - how can it pause to pick and choose?
Treacherous - anxiety bedevils our news
But temporary, false is its crown.

When we think or moan, twiddle thumbs or disengage,
There is nothing, not even tears, that dares to drown our stage.
azzan Mar 2020
Coconut, coconut, coconut,
Stained white on the inside,
Brown on the out.

Hit it on its head,
Slash it apart.
Nourish it with spices,
Of a Southern past.

Fuzzy to touch,
Lined in coir.
The remaining path
In defining who we are.

Droplets of the Ganges,
Drowned in the Thames.
A conflicted soul,
In search of a cleanse.

Coconut, coconut, coconut,
That one's spoiled!
So send him back.
for more, follow @azzan.juma on instagram!
OJ Mar 2020
It is Tuesday March 17th
Stuck in the house with my family
School was cancelled
Friends cannot visit
Therefore I am here
I made a *** of mint tea for me and OJ's little sister
And did a lot of work OJ had not done
Checking email periodically to see if anyone died
I got up at 8 to clean the bathroom
Enjoyed some coffee with a waffle and jam

As I'm here I await a message from a friend on Skype
Staring at the screen as I write out this poem
As the words flow through my mind

I take a break and watch an old fashion loony tunes cartoon
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