Dichtersbankje | De Kift

Broedplaats Lely⇲ | Amsterdam 

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze groep en nummers) de Kift⇲

Nauwe Mijter

Hoofdkaas

De Orenmens

zie meer hier⇲

Dichtersbankje | John Lennon

Foto: © Hans Mellendijk | Strawberry Fields | Central park | NYC | John Lennon memorial

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze songwriter en song) voorraad Mellendijk: Johan Lennon⇲

John Lennon & The Plastic Ono Band & The Flux Fiddlers  | Imagine

Dichtersbankje | Sierd de Vos | El Sierd

Foto: Gerrit-Jan Heijink  | Sportpark Oberink | Varsseveld | zomer 2019

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze sportpoëet en gedicht) voorraad Mellendijk : Sierd de Vos⇲

FIFA 20

Koekoek, haha! 
Ratatatata!
Boem! Knal! Raak!
Confetti!

Dichtersbankje | Wim Wenders

Foto: © Hugo Hoes | Miesbach | Bayern 

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze cineast en film) voorraad Hoes: Wim Wenders⇲

Road-movie | Im Lauf der Zeit⇲

Dichtersbankje | Abigail Mott

Foto: © Hans Mellendijk | High Line | New York

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze poëtische actie en dichter) voorraad Mellendijk: Abigail Mott⇲

High Line Poetry

Zie ook documentaire A PLace Of Truth⇲

Dichtersbankjes | Walt Whitman

Foto: © Hans Mellendijk | Brooklyn Heights Promanade | NYC

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mellendijk: Walt Whitman⇲

I Hear America Singing

BY WALT WHITMAN

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,

Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,

The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,

The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,

The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,

The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,

The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,

The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,

Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,

The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,

Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

n/a

Source: Selected Poems (1991)

Dichtersbankje | Delmore Schwartz

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Hudson River | NY

uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Delmore Schwartz⇲

America America!

 I am a poet of the Hudson River and the heights above it,
 the lights, the stars, and the bridges
I am also by self-appointment the laureate of the Atlantic
 -of the peoples' hearts, crossing it 
 to new America.


I am burdened with the truck and chimera, hope,
 acquired in the sweating sick-excited passage 
 in steerage, strange and estranged
Hence I must descry and describe the kingdom of emotion.


For I am a poet of the kindergarten (in the city)
 and the cemetery (in the city)
And rapture and ragtime and also the secret city in the
 heart and mind
This is the song of the natural city self in the 20th century.


It is true but only partly true that a city is a "tyranny of
 numbers"
(This is the chant of the urban metropolitan and
 metaphysical self
After the first two World Wars of the 20th century)

--- This is the city self, looking from window to lighted
 window
When the squares and checks of faintly yellow light
Shine at night, upon a huge dim board and slab-like tombs,
Hiding many lives.
 It is the city consciousness
Which sees and says: more: more and more: always more.

Dichtersbankje | Evelyn Scott

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Hudson Yard⇲ | NY

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Evelyn Scott⇲

Hudson River

The thin hill pushes against the mist.
Its fading defiance sounds in the umber and red of autumn leaves.
Like a dead arm around a warm throat
Is the sagging embrace of the river
Laid grayly about the shore.

The train passes.
We emerge from a tunnel into a sky of thin blue morning glories
Where yellow lily bells tinkle down.
The paths run swiftly away under the lamp glow
Like green and blue lizards
Mottled with light.

Dichtersbankje | Hans Mellendijk

Foto: ©Hans Mellendijk | Galerie Rivierenhof Deurne

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Hans Mellendijk⇲

Voorbij Warm

De glinsteringen van de Boules de Neige neigen

de verzengende hitte van de zomer af te koelen.
Aan de kim over het Waalse water klinkt J'aime La Vie.

De boot met een lome spaanslag drijft met Oude IJssel mee
radert het patroon van opwaaiende zomerjurken. 
Wat zal de keerkom ons nog meer in herinnering brengen?

Dichtersbankje | Bert Bevers

Foto: © Bert Bevers | De Gerlachekaai | Antwerpen

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Bert Bevers⇲

Gouy
Bij de Scheldebron

Schuw welhaast laat zich traag water
wellen tot niet veel meer dan beek.

Ze heeft geen weet nog van de haven
die zij op zal rekken in een ander land.

Grond die krimpt en zwelt is klei, dat
voelt ze naarmate het noorden nadert,

haar oevers verder van elkaar te liggen
komen. Hier echter is zij beleefd nog

stroompje dat gehuchten passeert waarin
lopers roesten in lang vergeten sloten.

Met zicht op haar eerste meander schiet
iemand in de regen zich door het hart.

Bert Bevers

Gouy
Bij de Scheldebron
Verschenen in Ballustrada, jaargang 33, nummer 2-3, Terneuzen, april 2019

Dichtersbankje | Nits

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Ronks | Pennsylvania | USA

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze song) vooraad Mannen van Bevers: Nits⇲

Album: 1974 | Rumspringa | 2003

Dichtersbankje | Hart Crane

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Brooklyn Bridge | NYC | USA

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Hart Crane⇲

To Brooklyn Bridge

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest
The seagull's wings shall dip and pivot him,
Shedding white rings of tumult, building high
Over the chained bay waters Liberty—

Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
As apparitional as sails that cross
Some page of figures to be filed away;
—Till elevators drop us from our day . . .

I think of cinemas, panoramic sleights
With multitudes bent toward some flashing scene
Never disclosed, but hastened to again,
Foretold to other eyes on the same screen;

And Thee, across the harbor, silver-paced
As though the sun took step of thee, yet left
Some motion ever unspent in thy stride,—
Implicitly thy freedom staying thee!

Out of some subway scuttle, cell or loft
A bedlamite speeds to thy parapets,
Tilting there momently, shrill shirt ballooning,
A jest falls from the speechless caravan.

Down Wall, from girder into street noon leaks,
A rip-tooth of the sky's acetylene;
All afternoon the cloud-flown derricks turn . . .
Thy cables breathe the North Atlantic still.

And obscure as that heaven of the Jews,
Thy guerdon . . . Accolade thou dost bestow
Of anonymity time cannot raise:
Vibrant reprieve and pardon thou dost show.

O harp and altar, of the fury fused,
(How could mere toil align thy choiring strings!)
Terrific threshold of the prophet's pledge,
Prayer of pariah, and the lover's cry,—

Again the traffic lights that skim thy swift
Unfractioned idiom, immaculate sigh of stars,
Beading thy path—condense eternity:
And we have seen night lifted in thine arms.

Under thy shadow by the piers I waited;
Only in darkness is thy shadow clear.
The City's fiery parcels all undone,
Already snow submerges an iron year . . .

O Sleepless as the river under thee,
Vaulting the sea, the prairies' dreaming sod,
Unto us lowliest sometime sweep, descend
And of the curveship lend a myth to God.

From The Complete Poems and Selected Letters and Prose of Hart Crane by Hart Crane, edited with an introduction and notes by Brom Weber. Used with the permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation. Copyright © 1933, 1958, 1966 by Liveright Publishing Corporation.

Dichtersbankje | Hans Mellendijk

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Chelsea | NYC | USA

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Hans Mellendijk⇲

HOE VLIEGT DE TIJD? | Hans Mellendijk

Amsterdam, Overtoomse Veld, 30 april 1993

Verkreukeld, verfrommeld, verfomfaaid
uit een vervlogen tijd aangewaaid
kijkt James Dean mij ongegrond opstandig aan
vanaf een verlopen calendarium uit ’91.
Ik vraag mij af, nu ik uitgeput maar voldaan,
na een lange feestelijke wandeling, in het gras lig
denkend aan zo’n enerverende vlucht uit het verleden:
‘Hoe vliegt de tijd?’

Door ’n prille meid
zag ik je zo-even nog snel verkocht
terwijl jij liever de vrijheid zocht.
Bent toen uit het Vondelpark door de wind meegezogen
met scharrelend zwerfvuil door het Rembrandtpark gevlogen.
Op het laatst neergedaald voor de GAK-kantoren.
Om als een objet trouvée, in de tijd bevroren
door mij bewust te worden geadministreerd.

Uiteindelijk in dit vers hartstochtelijk vereerd.

gepubliceerd in Poëziepuntgl - jaargang 4 - nummer 1 - maart 2006 | Seeshirt - Het 13e Erbarmen Festival - Hoe vliegt de tijd? - Varsseveld, 3 juli 1993 | Trouw dicht in de buurt - bundel Noord-Holland - 8 februari 2010

Dichtersbankje | Bruce Springsteen

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Asbury Park | New Jersey

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze singer-songwriter) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Bruce Springsteen⇲ 

Dichtersbankje | Alan Alexander Milne

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Churchyard Princeton | New Yersey 
graf Christopher Florian Walson⇲

Collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: A. A. Milne⇲

The End

When I was One 
I had just begun. 

When I was Two 
I was nearly new. 

When I was Three 
I was hardly me. 

When I was Four 
I was not much more. 

When I was Five 
I was just alive. 

But now I am Six; I'm as clever as clever
So I think I'll be six now forever and ever.

A.A. Milne | Winnie-the-Pooh | Now We Are Six | 1927

Illustratie: Ernest Shepard⇲

Inscriptie op graf: Christopher Florian Walson⇲

Dichtersbankje | Bob Dylan

Foto: © Gettysburg | Gettysburg | National Military Park | USA

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze singer-songwriter) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Bob Dylan⇲

The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan

1991

Ed Sheeran

Pearl Jam | Letterman Show | 30-09-2004

8 februari 1963 | 

Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you sit back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
While the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death will come soon
I'll follow your casket
By the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Bob Dylan

Songteksten voor Masters Of War © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Audiam, Inc

Dichtersbankje | Rajan Thapaliya

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Niagara Falls | Canada

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze dichter en gedicht) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Rajan Thapaliya⇲

Niagara Falls

Ravishing grace with paradise on earth

Beauty sprinkles everywhere in Niagara’s Edge

Attractive Skylon Tower and Rainbow bridge

Water bubbles looks like magic Balls

“Maid of the Mist, Niagara Falls



Voluminous water with boating

I’m afraid with white foamy flow,

Mighty heartbeat wind that blows,

The beauty I feel, is in no way olden

Mysterious rainbow is golden,

OMG, how my heart is stolen!


Joyful fireworks on the sky with velocity

Little children’s are watching with curiosity

Extremely heavenly joy and pleasure

It makes me wonder that I want to share

Loving couple watching the falls with love

The fall reflects the beauty of our life together 

Rajan Thapaliya

zie ook: poemhunter⇲

Dichtersbankje | Joni Mitchell

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Mainstreet | Bethlehem | New Hampshire 

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze singer-songwriter) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Joni Mitchell⇲

Woodstock

Joni Mitchell

I came upon a child of God
He was walking along the road
And I asked him, where are you going
And this he told me
I'm going on down to Yasgur's farm
I'm going to join in a rock 'n' roll band
I'm going to camp out on the land
I'm going to try an' get my soul free
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

Then can I walk beside you
I have come here to lose the smog
And I feel to be a cog in something turning
Well maybe it is just the time of year
Or maybe it's the time of man
I don't know who l am
But you know life is for learning
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

By the time we got to Woodstock
We were…

Dichtersbankje | Neil Young

Foto: © Peter Bevers | Lyndonville | Ontario | USA ⇲

Uit de collectie Mellendijk (keuze singer-songwriter) voorraad Mannen van Bevers: Neil Young⇲

[Verse 1]
There is a town in North Ontario
With dream, comfort, memory to spare
And in my mind, I still need a place to go
All my changes were there

[Pre-Chorus]
Blue, blue windows behind the stars
Yellow moon on the rise
Big birds flying across the sky

Throwing shadows on our eyes

hier meer/here more⇲

Neil Young | Helpless | 1993

The Last Waltz | Neil Young & The Band | Helpless | 1978

Neil Young Live @ Massey Hall | 1971

NeilYoungArchives⇲

K.D. Lang sings Helpless | 2005

while Young was recovering in hospital