|
|
|
Best Poems From HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
|
|
| |
|
|
773.
|
Bronson
The telephone rang loud and shrill,
it was the secret code
that gives the signal for the kill,
for bullets to explode.
The message was a triple beep,
then followed by the gist:
'And miles to go before I sleep',
he had, at first been kissed
then, using mesmerising skill,
she placed him in a trance,
it would forever own his will
for any song and dance.
Hypnosis well can make you do
what you would rather not.
And anyone who says that you
can't be controlled, talks rot.
A killer can be made of you,
we train assassins here.
You're now recruited to the crew,
don't worry, do not fear.
This world is run by criminals,
we need to kill the lot
our weapons are subliminals,
and mercy we have not.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
774.
|
Brown Bear
The dampness woke him.
He stretched into a furry thing
which could not be made out
here in the darkness of the cave.
Went back to sleep on pointed rocks,
with bats a-coming and a-going,
and dreams of her, at home in bed
she was no hunter, after all, no way.
Her hair so soft, coarse curls aplenty,
he scratched and stroked with care.
It was a miracle that hibernation
was on the mind of that brown bear.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
775.
|
Brown Eggs
A gardener, who liked to spend
most days and also the weekend
out in his garden near the town
was in a way a real clown,
his humour served him happily
and the occasional enemy.
One Saturday while pulling weeds
before he'd plant the season's seeds,
he glanced toward the garden's fence
and was confronted with a sense
of dejΰ-vu when he discovered
that in the thistles someone hovered.
It was a man who spread his legs
and laid what seemed to be brown eggs.
The gardner ran to see his hens
(the fellow sat still by the fence)
and grabbed an egg and placed with care
it under cheeks that sat there, bare.
And then he hid behind the coop
until the man gave up his stoop.
He took the egg out of the shade
and said 'I can't believe I laid
a real egg, this is unreal
it does have wonderful appeal.'
Each day he came and crouched to lay
into the growing grass of May
his movements and each time he found
another egg, there on the ground.
He knew his troubles would be over
and bought a patch of luscious clover
invited all his friends and mates
from town and from some other states
to demonstrate his special powers.
The crowds had waited there for hours,
a band was playing 'Golden Goose'
and channel nine announced the news.
In view of millions there he sat
right near the fence and then he shat.
But out came for the world to see
in Nature's soft green gallery
a sausage of the usual kind.
The fellow, when he looked behind
and saw what graced the spot marked X
was poo and not the hoped for eggs
he suffered there and then a stroke
and did remain forever broke.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
776.
|
Browns Into Greens
The worm had made it,
evaded all controls
arrived, fresh and alert
and looked around.
They'd placed him there,
among the lettuces and leeks,
a thousand acres of fine greens,
oh, he would thrive and stay alive!
Midmorning came, the little man
turned on the water, a fine mist
to freshen up the greens,
it caught him unawares, he fell,
was swept onto the vinyl floor
where fibers of a giant mop preside.
By afternoon he found himself,
in sorry state of health and mood,
inside a drain behind the store.
Surrounded by a thousand acres of
gray soapy scum and pastes of dirty brown.
It was, he mused, the way of things,
and he would now perceive all browns as greens.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|