Poetry Police

BobbyFuller4.jpgBron: wikipedia

ūüė¶ … And also

While you were sleeping

I was out feeling

When you played dead

At least I kept breathing



Inspired by:  Bobby Fuller Four РI Fought The Law(1966)


Help Me Make It Through the Night


Gladys Knight (1969).jpg Bron:wikipedia


I took that ribbon from the ground

Still around

Sometimes lost and sometimes found

Still life of a friendly ghost

In a drawer somewhere



So many great versions of this song, but I like this tender and heartfelt one the most:

Inspired by:

Gladys Knight,  Help Me Make It Through the Night

William Topaz McGonagall, worst poet ever.

William McGonagall.jpg picture source wikipedia 

Lately I’ve been doing some thinking. I tend to think a lot. It’s what I do. And since you stumbled upon this page, maybe you do to. It really doesn’t matter actually, how you ended up here.

But a question remains lingering in the back of my mind. How did this man ended up as the worst poet ever, and was he really?

And let the rich be kind to the poor,
And think of the hardships they do endure,
Who are neither clothed nor fed,
And Many without a blanket to their bed.

Surely you can detect some bruteness in what you just read, but is it really that bad?

Should we not look back on this writer as misunderstood? Or maybe his time ahead?

A visionary relating to past, present and future with heavy heart and some victorian melancholy, but above all a gentle soul in a world that couldn’t care less.

‘His clothes were thin and he was nearly frozen with cold,
And wholly starving with hunger, a pitiful sight to behold.’

The above¬† lines from this Christmas long gone seem familiar, don’t they? Remember them Christmas to come.













Feliz Navidad 2032 (dutch version)



Nergens bijzonder, ergens in Spanje

Elke kamer opgemaakt met franje

Gevuld met kleurrijke warmte


Buiten spoelt de fijnste regen

Restanten van de dag.

En in een donkere hoek

Zit Se√Īor Rajoy

Zinnen wat zoek

Alleen, zoals hij dat nu al jaren doet


‘Misschien dat er vandaag nog iemand komt’


Maar de zusters weten beter

De verpleegsters weten beter

En de bewoners weten het helemaal zeker:


Hij die met stalen tucht zijn kinderen sloeg,

Voor het stelen van ocharme een koek,

Krijgt hier op het eind nog maar zelden bezoek


Zo gaat het steeds, en zo is het best goed


















Feliz Navidad 2032


Christmas Eve 2032

Somewhere in Spain

The room is warm

With colorful light

And chants of joy


Outside the faintest of rain

Clears what’s left of the day.

But out of sight

In a gloomy corner

Sits daddy Rajoy


Allone in his typical way


Trying to remember

Trying to forget

Why no visitor came in just yet


Why, why, why!

I did no harm.



The nurses know

And the caretakers know

And all the elderly know


Fathers who beat up their kids

For no good reason at all

Always end up all alone

Somewhere in a dreary corner

Of the retirement home











Still Magic


There’s quite a few by now

And  quite a few

Of them

Are mine

Thin meandering lines

Carefully chiseled

Right around  her eyes


Regrets I have

So many by now

And still…

Still she says

She’s mine

Inspired by: Still Magic, Peter Skellern, 1980


Er zijn er

Nogal wat

En nogal wat

Komen door mij

Dunne meanderende lijnen

Voorzichtig gebeiteld

Rond haar ogen



Loert altijd om de hoek

En toch…

Toch zegt ze

Dat ze nog steeds geen ander zoekt

Lesser Years


Children of  these lesser years

Growing up with enemies

and heroes made of make-believe

Nothing  really to achieve

Growing cold in hate and fear

And hardly something to hold dear.


Some of the old  are still around

Longing for some long lost warmth.


Hoping to be found

Willing to change

And dying to say:

Never, never, never,

Never again!


inspired by: Rockin’ In The Free World, Neil Young, 1989