Dichtersbankjes | Driek van Wissen

Foto: Albert Hagenaars | Bankjes rond  Borgvlietsedreef Bergen op Zoom

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze gedicht en dichter) voorraad Albert Hagenaars: Driek van Wissen 👉

Oerbeeld

Reeds in de oertijd waren wij seksisten.
Dat zie je aan een beeldje dat men vond
Met borsten en met billen, fors en rond
Terwijl het lijfje wel een hoofdje miste.

Wij waren toen waarschijnlijk allen apen,
Maar naar dit beeld is dus de vrouw geschapen.

Driek van Wissen

Dichtersbankjes | Pete Brown, Jack Bruce

Foto: Bert Bevers | Hoogstraat 70-74 Antwerpen

Uit de collectie Bert Bevers 👉 (keuze tekstdichter en song) voorraad Mannen van Bevers:

Pete Brown , Jack Bruce 👉

White room

 

In a white room with black curtains in the station
Black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings
Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes
Dawn light smiles on you leaving, my contentment

 

I'll wait in this place, where the sun never shines
Wait in this place, where the shadows run from themselves

 

You said no strings could secure you at the station
Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows
I walked into, such a sad time, at the station
As I walked out, felt my own need, just beginning

 

I'll wait in the queue when the trains come back
Lie with you where the shadows run from themselves

 

At the party, she was kindness in the hard crowd

Consolation for the old wound now forgotten
Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes
Now gets morning, goodbye windows, tired starlings

 

I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd
Lie in the dark, where the shadows run from themselves

 

 

Jack Bruce / Pete Brown, 1968

Dichtersbankjes | Boudleaux Bryant

Foto: Albert Hagenaars | Palestrinastraat 18 te Bergen op Zoom

 

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze song en songwrtiter) voorraad Albert Hagenaars: Boudleaux Bryant 👉

Speel "Bird Dog" af op Apple Music

"Bird Dog

Johnny is a joker (he's a bird)
A very funny joker (he's a bird)
But when he jokes my honey (he's a dog)
His jokin' ain't so funny (what a dog)
Johnny is a joker that's a-tryin' to steal my baby (he's a bird dog)

Johnny sings a love song (like a bird)
He sings the sweetest love song (ya ever heard)
But when he sings to my gal (what a howl)
To me he's just a wolf dog (on the prowl)
Johnny wants to fly away and puppy-love my baby (he's a bird dog)

Hey, bird dog get away from my quail
Hey, bird dog you're on the wrong trail
Bird dog you better leave my lovey-dove alone
Hey, bird dog, get away from my chick
Hey, bird dog, you better get away quick
Bird dog you better find a chicken little of your own

Johnny kissed the teacher (he's a bird)
He tiptoed up to reach her (he's a bird)
Well he's the teachers pet now (he's a dog)
What he wants he can get now (what a dog)
He even made the teacher let him sit next to my baby (he's a bird dog)

Hey, bird dog get away from my quail
Hey, bird dog you're on the wrong trail
Bird dog you better leave my lovey-dove alone
Hey, bird dog get away from my chick
Hey, bird dog you better get away quick
Bird dog you better find a chicken little of your own
He's bird……

Speel "Bird Dog" af op Apple Music

Dichtersbankjes | Neil Young

Foto: Maarten Bevers | Cherry Creek Trail, Tulsa 

Uit de collectie Bert Bevers 👉 (keuze tekstdichter en song) voorraad Mannen van Bevers:

Neil Young 👉

The Last Trip to Tulsa - Neil Young 

[Verse 1]
Well, I used to drive a cab you know
I heard a siren scream
Pulled over to the corner and I fell into a dream
There were two men eating pennies
And three young girls who cried
The West coast is falling, I see rocks in the sky
The preacher took his Bible and laid it on the stool
He said "With the congregation running
Why should I play the fool?"

[Verse 2]
Well, I used to be a woman you know
I took you for a ride
I let you fly my airplane
It looked good for your pride
'Cause you're the kind of man you know
Who likes what he says
I wonder what's it's like to be so far over my head
Well, the lady made the wedding
And she brought along the ring
She got down on her knees and said
"Let's get on with this thing"

[Verse 3]
Well, I used to be a folk singer
Keeping managers alive
When you saw me on a corner
And told me I was jive
So I unlocked your mind, you know
To see what I could see
If you guarantee the postage
I'll mail you back the key
Well I woke up in the morning
With an arrow through my nose
There was an Indian in the corner
Trying on my clothes

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[Verse Well, I used to be asleep you know

With blankets on my bed
I stayed there for a while till they discovered I was dead
The coroner was friendly, I liked him quite a lot
If I hadn't have been a woman
I guess I'd never have been caught
They gave me back my house and car
And nothing more was said

[Verse 5]
Well, I was driving down the freeway
When my car ran out of gas
Pulled over to the station but I was afraid to ask
The servicemen were yellow and the gasoline was green
Although I knew I could not
I thought that I was gonna scream
That was on my last trip to Tulsa
Just before the snow
If you ever need a ride there
Be sure to let me know

[Verse 6]
I was chopping down a palm tree
When a friend dropped by to ask
If I would feel less lonely
If he helped me swing the axe
I said, "No, it's not a case of being lonely we have here
I've been working on this palm tree
For eighty seven years"
I said, "No, it's not a case of being lonely we have here
I've been working on this palm tree
For eighty seven years"
He said, "Go get lost!" and walked toward his Cadillac
I chopped down the palm tree
And it landed on his back

Dichtersbankjes | Wim Brands

Foto: Albert Hagenaars |  Stieltjesstraat 21, Kunstencentrum Villa  Zebra, Rotterdam

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Albert Hagenaars: Wim Brands 👉

Op straat, op een transformatorhuisje;

Op straat, op een transformatorhuisje:
ik zoek zieke, dode vogels,
dank u wel
ik woon in de Knollendamstraat.

In de krant: als een zebra gaat liggen
sterft hij

In bed, ik zie weer mijn grootvader
vlak voor hij sterft. Het was
in het voorjaar, de paarden

gingen van stal en hij leunde
tegen het hek. Ik hoorde hem:
geef me mijn bril, het worden stippen.

Wim Brands
uit: 'De schoenen van de buurman', 1999.