Don’t keep the secret

The secret recipe
to consent
is not that hard:

Just read the signals
When in doubt, ask:
Do you like this?

When you can’t read signals
Is this okay?

Add some genuine interest
in the well-being of the other
(a great first base – have you tried it?)

Don’t forget
to keep reading
until the happy end
– the plot may change
so stay aware

The secret recipe
to consent
is not that hard

– no cooking class needed suggested this as an optional prompt today: “I’d like to challenge you to write a “concrete” poem – a poem in which the lines and words are organized to take a shape that reflects in some way the theme of the poem.” A great idea, but not for me. But I’ll add an illustration where I at least combine image and text.

I’m looking forward to what the other participants create!



He came home. Said nothing.
His body showed no marks.

He stayed home. Said nothing.
His presence left a mark.

He left home. Said nothing.
His absence left no marks. suggested use the opening line from another poet as a starting point for ours today. This opening line comes from Wislawa Szymborska’s “Going Home” (translated from Polish). I wrote mine before I read the full poem. Which was helpful, because her imagery is so strong that it would have blocked any effort to write something new.


We made the news

We made the news

Mum made book with her two daughters
Journalist wrote about it in the newspaper
Sister made book with sibling and mother
Photographer made a photograph of them
I made a book with my sister and mother
Editor asked for a poem to go with the article

We made a book


We made the news
If we sell all the books
The news made us

The prompt at was to write a poem based on a news article. I happened to have a news article that I really wanted to share with you 🙂
If you’d like to have a look inside the book you can check Blurb, Amazon, Kobo, Google Play or the Apple Store.

We are working on the English version. It’s almost finished, but has some corona delay. If you want me to let you know when it’s available, just ask and I’ll create a good oldfashioned handwritten list.


Artikel Eindhovens Dagblad


For all my life
I’ve obeyed the rules
– their rules

Never following my heart
nor my abdomen
neither believing what my gut told me
nor my own thoughts

I obeyed every commandment
each edict
the letters and spirits of law
and any code of conduct

Yet here I am

The devil’s instruments
leading me on
to bare my soul
unveil my deepest desires
and tremble
with delight


If, like me, you didn’t know what hecatocheires were, you can look it up here. provided us with a lovely challenge for day 6 of #NaPoWriMo: “Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem from the point of view of one person/animal/thing from Hieronymous Bosch’s famous (and famously bizarre) triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights.”

According to a book in my house, the father of Hieronymous Bosch was a painter. He didn’t want to take on his son as an apprentice. Alledgedly he thought this son had too much fantasy to become a painter….

Supreme leader

Pilate washed his hands
for 20 seconds
with cheap sanitiser
bought by the gallon
before the plague came

He washed his hands
for 20 seconds
singing ‘happy birthday to me’
congratulating himself
on his genial leadership

After Pilate washed his hands
for 20 seconds
he declared he would not wear a face mask
‘my hands are clean’

What would presidents
prime ministers
think if he did?

Pilate washed his hands
without a face mask
for 20 seconds
and never wondered
what they would think if he didn’t


They shall know I am The Lord provided a 20 step prompt today. I tried it, got some sentences I liked, but couldn’t make something out of it that worked. Step 10 was “Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).” That step inspired this poem. I don’t understand why the leader of the country that’s hit the worst by the corona virus would not want to give the best possible example to the people in the country.


You touch me
so gently
all of my body knows

Your body
an envelope
to my sickened state of self-loathing

Loving words
writ on the interior
etching my skin, unmirrored

Eternally illegible
you touch me – so gently

That’s when I can feel
your words
inside of me

The prompt today at was “to write a poem based on an image from a dream.”. I took a very comforting dream I had recently as a starting point.



01100010 01101111 01100100 01111001

There’s a bug in my hug
It can’t seem to reach you
404 error

Body not found

The title is the binary code for the word ‘body’. I haven’t checked, I’ve simply trusted to come up with the right info.

Our prompt today was to use to create a word bank, starting with ten words that you came up with yourself. Rhyming doesn’t bring out the best in me.

I’m really feeling the effects today of being cooped up once again. Last year it was 6 months of broken foot trouble, now it’s corona. The words I started with were Sad, Depressed, Uninspired, Tired, Longing, Desire, Hug, Warmth, Relaxation, Love. Did you know nothing rhymes with warmth?