Posts tagged ‘fun’

How do I call it?

“Can I call you?” he said, and I nodded,
but he called me at three in the night
when my bed is my heaven and haven.
Now he sleeps for a while at my side.

It is nice to have someone to sleep with,
and to warm up my feet in the cold.
But by now, two months later, I wonder
what he’s called, as I never was told.


What is the right word!

Where are the words to fully say

what we mean when we are  loving,

in the most  natural way?

Is it making that we do

when it all is full surrender?

What  is the word for how I feel

when you touch me very tender?

Can’t be passion, we’re too lazy,

Hiding in some language that we miss

there might be a good expression

Of the craziness it is!


Hi Postman!


My son’s room was in need of a cleaning up.

So I decided to take some stuff to the attic,

but because I was going to have  a shower after the job,

I decided to already undress and keep my clothes tidy

 I climbed up the ladder with a box full of kitchen appliances

but then I miss stepped and somehow I ended up here.

So that is why I am lying here naked with  a colander on my head.

Now it is your turn, please explain that  big yellow bird on your shoulder?


A Heaven For Poems


The orphan poem plays alone

while all the other poems run

as no one looks about her twice

Nobody thinks that she is nice


A  lonely poem with no home

wonders where to spend the night

But it is not down at all

As there is some hope after all


The hobo poem and the child

They go  together hand in hand

They don’t look back to this cruel place

where ugly poems are disgrace


There is a heaven for unloved poems

where it doesn’t mean if they rhyme or not

where they don’t have to have a flow

This is what all unwanted poems know



oh come on don’t be mean :)


The neigbours across the street

A couple in their seventies

Are selling home-made jam

every day, the whole day,

in front of their house

Now I don’t like the taste of so much sweet

And they want too much money for a jar

So I can’t leave the house quite well

As I don’t want to be unkind

But I also don’t want to buy the stuff

that they make in a rusty kind of bucket


Sometimes a determined mind is not enough

and I do need to do my shopping

Maybe I have some coins left in my pocket…



my online striptease


years  after my online blog introduction

I tried to impress with my  sad verse  production

swaying my leg around the pole of anonymity

I put up my avatar for all the world to see me


since then, one by one, there went many a veil, and my pride

from the top of my head down to my heel

my poetry gave you my inside and out

now there is nothing left to conceal or hide


all about my love

all about my silly fears

my worries and tears


in vanille vanella’s

sinister haiku’s and heartbreaking sonnets


 some see-through silk is touching my perky

remarks and my comments ever so quirky

I shall step over the last-but-one item that is left to be dropped


countless veils have turned into a heep

the audience has fallen asleep

I should have stopped

hours ago but in spite of my shiver

I am here to deliver


so there, have it all

the last veil will fall

rolling drums…

someone is giggling…

as my bottom is wiggling…


a shock in the room as my again-one-but-last-bit of lingerie finally  is hitting the ground

could you do me the favour and please turn around?

I might need some privacy here now that I am done

oh well never mind then, by now you  are all gone…



Too romantic for his own good :)


 Because the truth has gone away

backpacking on some holiday

I give you these: my ears!

I cut them off for you to see

that I am serious as can be!

Yes I knew there would be tears…

You lied to me and so you pay!

And now what have you got to say?

Huh?  Come again? Say what?


I gladly accept the award 🙂

and I nominate Isabella

because she is so talented!

The model


So I sit here completely naked and cold

In front of this art class of men young and old

Trying hard not to feel awkward at all

I shiver a bit on the stool that’s too small

Hearing the pencils  drawing my curves

I am smiling away what is left of my nerves

Someone is coughing, but no body speaks

A chair’s loudly moved and the door slightly shreeks

Alone with twenty four eyes watching me

From nine till eleven in my nudity

And then thank heaven it is time for their break

I  secretly look what it is that they make

Twelve sheets of paper all showing my figure of speech:

Three cubics, two circles and a triangle each…



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