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.
Correctness.
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.