Lenin Island (2019) by Hugh Waldock

Her spirit lies

In this past

It's dead, a dead place

With decaying tennis courts

For red and blue scarfed junior doctors

Eternal statues, now left to age

Dominate some curves and some angles of this masterplan

Complete with twisting, clean-lined paths,

Adorned with irradiated pines,

Where rickshaws, now paid for, and golf buggies spin

And are worth nostalgia to elitists for 5000 florins plus

Her spirit lies in this past

It's what made us

Made her loyalty real

That love, for her was far from Darwinian

That love was chosen by her, and not just another perfect him on merit

And not from any previous tradition, an idea that's fallen into disrepair,

30 years hence, that plagued her childhood and made her sane still as a mother

After a tear of distinction from her voice

Crawled from my eye

I finally noticed it wasn't my child

And I cried,

Forgive me.

Forgive my Englishness.

Entlassen (2009) by Hugh Waldock


‘Schreib' mir noch ein Gedicht du Sau'

'Ich würde lieber pinkeln gehen!’

‘Ich würde dich gerne begleiten

Dich wie ein Schwein reiten’

'Was sagst du jetzt wenn du mich anhetzt

Ich rufe doch die Polizei

Verpiss dich du weiches Ei!


Ich bin verheiratet

Ich habe Kinder

Ich verliere den Sinn

Ich liebe Kim

Du gehörst in den Eimer

Du alter Schleimer


Du liebst mich

Aber das wars

Dein Gedicht ist pervers

Und Weiss du was Junge ich liebe ihn

Du schwacher, dummer Mr Bean!

Crush (1994) by Hugh Waldock

I loved a woman

That pulled her dress down

To cover her knees

She was so beautiful

Her eyes reigned like little kings

They left me headless in rejection

And that gleaming hair, almost white

With a hint of blonde, that followed

Her everywhere as a radiance of soul

So cold and cruel and righteous

In intelligence still 

Plagues my mind,

I loved you, now love yourself

As I have loved you.

Slowly Going Bonkers (1994) by Hugh Waldock

There lies a dozing beauty
Amongst a dozen chaffy apple trees.
She sits with rays illuminating her golden strands of glittery hair

With a fiery-passion any man would be proud of
And the smooch of rubies in her cheeks.

Boyfriend one and boyfriend two,
Boyfriend three and boyfriend four
Each administering the greeny poison of love’s spite

For which there is no cure.

When the soul lies damaged
The heart dies and petrifies
And not even a thousand gently administered kisses

Would bring it back to life.

So she would live in a shell of her own nature,
Desperate to shed her skin like a chameleon and champion her new cause.

As a painted Russian egg of desire
Into which his scorches his devilish tattoos
Of burning wines and hellish fruit cake.

Jealous? What me? (1994) by Hugh Waldock

With the touch, feelings and energy of love inside me

How could I fail again
But I have?

She loves another man who

Who actually sits beside her,

Dries her face at night
And screws her.

I seem to have this talent
To be unwanted and wasted on myself

To feel other peoples love
And suckle on their creativity

Like a ‘too sweet’ baby
On another man’s breasts.
I let it fail deliberately
Because I can see how much he too

Loves that pearly skin.

Oh, Shit! (1995) by Hugh Waldock

How can I love in rhyme?

When such a bright breeze

Lights up a fluff of your hair?

For real love means ties
Dressing up well and not forgetting your flies.


I have not and never can achieve this
Only in the similarity between you and me

Can help come surely!

 Love as the Woman’s Dog (2005) by Hugh Waldock

Love me with flowers 

Chocolates, and embarrassed looks

But don't smile

And never flout it, big boy

I’d run a mile

At the thought of you

Staying with for a while

But beg, sit, stand

Allow your mind

To touch me with your hand

But stub your wand

Like a fag end

Out now in the sand

For you don´t fit in with my brand

And honey your sweet boat 

Will never here find land

But, oh how lovely

Do you look upon me?

So charmed and yet so hurt

As if I’ve filed away

All your harshness

And bold charisma

No don’t be a boy

Play with me more

Use me as your toy

(That sounds a little coy

But how can a man so brash and bold

Really be so shy.)

I love you 

Be more of a brute

And like an angel 

My big breasts toot

For they are the engine of your joy

Don’t leave me now. 

Oh boy 

– My lovely boy!!!.

Cordola (2005) by Hugh Waldock


Cordola’s like a fresh breath of life

On the surface a lake of desire

If it were right

I would like to invite her

To make new waves in my heart

Oh! I just want to love her

And I think that I might have been

The only one to look at her

She’s so shy

But nice

She looks

So interesting

Intellectually stimulating

Why did I not want THIS

In my life before?

She’s nice 

Oh baby, baby, 

Boob boob booberdy bap

What a lady

She’s got dark hair

And warm eyes

Oh -----

Now she’s playing her flute

Accompanying feelings like a lute

That creates this atmosphere 

For my early songs.

This one’s for you 

The hope of being coupled as two

Makes me break out 

With love for you

Boob boob booberdy bap!

Kitchen Club Time (2004) by Hugh Waldock

‘Die süßen und netten

Die mich gernen gern hätten’

Whether German or Polish

And despite my frame

I respect other men seeking fame

So when they see them as fitter

I get seriously bitter

But with schoolgirl charm

It’s Annette I will farm

And help her ambition

Her life making decisions

That’s what I’m made for

I’m a carer who also covers tits

And all the other fiddly bits

The naturally beautiful Bella

Can wait ‘till  I find her in heaven

Yet, having two rich and delightful friends

Is surely better than two quick fiery fags? 

I’m a man

That means a cross between the devil and a monkey

And if I can’t have them both

I’m going to be grumpy.