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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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757.
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Bovine
The tree was aching
under the burden of
white tons of snow,
arrived just know
to please
the little ones.
As traffic stalled
a cow gave birth
just when the wind
from the Northeast
picked up its feet
and whipped the town.
The little ones
inside the house
of stone
were shivering
and crying for
the newborn calf,
out in the snow.
Though fun was had
out in the sudden blizzard.
A new arrival,
bovine celebration.
Herbert Nehrlich
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758.
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Boys And Their Spinach (Children)
All the kids sat down for lunch,
and the mother, also Dad
during meals this happy bunch
ate and ate. But Tim looked sad.
Spinach sat, all mushy green
on his plate, next to the meat.
A bigger pile he'd never seen
and was expected now to eat.
Dad insisted that all greens
must be eaten by his kids,
that included ugly beans,
bitter olives (without pits) .
But, since Dad was often flying
overseas to make his money,
Tim would sit there, loudly crying
'til his nose was really runny.
Mother, who was always busy
got a headache from the crying,
and it sometimes made her dizzy
(that's when Dad was gone, and flying) .
So, she did allow that Tim
trade his spinach for some Jell-O,
with his older brother Jim,
who was always a good fellow.
But, you children may have heard
that your food will make you grow,
and that Jell-O is dessert,
not as good as spinach though.
And what happened after years
of Tim's body getting Jell-O,
he stayed little and Dad's fears
his hair would turn canary yellow,
did sure come true, so listen, guys,
Popeye was really big and strong.
The spinach gave him eagle eyes,
all because, for years (that long)
when he was a little man
he would always clean his plate,
and he was a spinach fan,
that's why his muscles looked so great.
It's up to you. If you would like
to grow into a fine young man,
and be the fastest on your bike,
have great big muscles 'cause you can
you'll need to always eat your greens,
including spinach and green bugs,
and broccoli, cabbage and beans.
Green-eating boys get all the hugs.
Herbert Nehrlich
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759.
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Brain Chemistry Lesson
You asked about your serotonin,
it's such a catchword nowadays,
though very few do understand
ramifications of this noble substance.
Imagine, if you will, a theatre
in open air, the background fragrant pines.
The stage is set with circles of straight chairs,
there for the actors and the dignitaries, waiting.
A goodly number is reserved for Serotonins,
who share the limelight with the Dopamines,
and now, the show begins, both do their thing
while standing, pointing with their hormone fingers.
Soon tension builds electrically, it is
communication between chemistry and physics,
the guests of honour rise and wander off the stage
to mingle with the crowds and interact.
They stand in little groups of five to eight,
all talk is 'shop' and does concern the nips and tugs
that may be indicated here and there and now.
Meanwhile the chairs up on the stage remain
just standing there and soaking up the sun,
awaiting the return in patient silence.
At times it happens that a group of strangers
descend upon the stage out of the blue.
They sink into the chairs to rest their bones
and snooze the time away until, too soon
the rightful owners do return to claim their seats.
The stand-off does not end due to politeness,
no battle does disturb the atmosphere,
all Serotonins and their real adversaries,
by name of Dopamines accept the change
and stand around, but not in little groups.
Because the time will come that the intruders
(they very often come from Pharmaland) ,
get up to stretch their tentacles and yawn.
And then, as if to re-establish balance,
they execute the switch to Harmony.
Whatever interferes with those receptors,
also called chairs, inside the brain, makes people ill.
Man cannot match the awesome skills of Mother Nature.
But there are always those who think they can, and try.
Herbert Nehrlich
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760.
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Brambles
They say that blind men hear the falling snow
and smell the pheromones of puberty,
there is a wonderful and lasting glow
beneath the eyes of those with an infirmity.
They say that lies are pleas of last resort,
and that a thief will never kill a man,
but that no judges who preside in any court
would jump at the suggestion of a plan
that smells of gold and silver, precious stones,
to break the law that they are to uphold.
They'd blimk just once, then go and crack some bones,
thus every soul endeavours 'to be sold'.
What happened to integrity my friends,
and has it now made room for something better?
Is it just me who's having trouble with new trends
and is it you who follows rules down to the letter?
I have the answer, it was plain to see,
it was too long ago, some fifty years.
A burst balloon, once named humanity,
since then all honesty has left our tears.
So, what to do my fellow crooks, you tell
are we enjoying our rapid journey.
The time will come when you don't feel too well,
when shared dishonesty will crowd your gurney.
It will be late that day, the sun will urge
that we be done away with, so, post-haste,
and only prayer may prevent the purge,
by hand of bureaucrats with lousy taste.
We have a chance, of course to do our part,
the love of money, though, stands in the way.
You could hold hands with me, just for a start.
God does not mind when twenty fingers pray.
Herbert Nehrlich
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