|
|
|
Best Poems From HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
|
|
| |
|
|
801.
|
C****
So turn your foot,
retreat your steps,
there's only darkness here,
feel deep inside your quadriceps
your guardian angel, do not fear,
your world could only be kaput
if all the people's blame
were yours.
In coming back, there's love
but never, ever shame.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
802.
|
C.A. - A Disease
It looks a bit like low fat cottage cheese,
stuck in the mucous folds, and turning bad,
the odour reminiscent of a snotty sneeze
or unwashed hose belonging to an undergrad.
The trigger's made of carbon, hydrogen and O,
the latter stands for oxygen, life's precious breath,
together they make saccharides that bugs must have to grow
without it there is misery and, later, certain death.
Candida, you smell sweet at first, but rancid is your fate
you travel through the body, even reach the distant brain,
so if they ask you was it something that you perhaps ate
you'd answer it is difficult to know and to explain.
How do you kill the mushrooms then, the doc is at a loss
from antifungals, douches and cute insert-a-things
there is a chance you'll keep the bugs and grow some moss!
Here is my remedy, it's simple and has wings:
one of the halogens, atomic weight is high
kills pathogens without selective care,
it leaves the fungal boys all jittery and dry
and near Mons Pubis all the landscape clean and bare.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
803.
|
Cafeteria Jello
I was ashamed to be the jello
of the cafeteria kind.
And no amount of shaking did
or would (so I was told)
catch your idiosyncratic tongue.
So there was ample grounds to change
into a lantern, kerosene and all,
which, like a jet propelled my need
into the stalagmites indeed.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
804.
|
Caffeine
The German chemist, name was Runge, did discover
what is today the recreation drug of note.
He had been burdened by a rather frigid lover
and any chances of pizzazz were quite remote.
Until the day that he unveiled this alkaloid,
he slipped the newly ground up powder in her drink,
and, like a miracle, without the help of Freud,
inside an hour she had hovered near the brink.
Today counts millions that enjoy it, are addicted,
its subtle forces reminiscent of hypnosis,
it grabs the mind's own keepers, they become afflicted
and light the fires through a power like osmosis.
Adenosine, a sleeping aid for humans
is blocked thus, cleverly by this great chemical.
All faces, male, will then appear to be Paul Newman's,
erotic switches madly triggered, quickly. Well,
you get the gist of course, this substance turns you on,
it lifts your spirits, boosts alertness, sharpens thinking.
It brings a buzz into your system like a ton
of sweet endorphins that will lead you, without blinking
into the land of auditory high perceivers
and visual clarity you have not known before,
it gives you limitless endurance for those fevers
of ultramarathons, as you then ask for more.
We have Red Bull today, it is a tasty blend
of fancy sugar, bits of protein, caffeine,
six hundred milligrams will very likely send
you into territory where you've never been.
Which is equivalent to three strong cups of brew,
or of The Bull it would require eight cold cans.
Medieval chemists who had lazy wives, they knew
that ergogenic aids would make a trillion fans.
They thus revealed the secret to the common masses,
soon all the households drank their Java at sunrise.
Some used their cups or barley straws or whiskyglasses,
but they all felt truly enlightened and so wise
that the habit grabbed the folks of many nations,
it also helped to bring about a great invention,
since all the people liked the uplifting sensation
also the way it brought all things to their attention.
It murders sleep though and the nights were very dark,
a cup of coffee got the youthful juices flowing,
but even hyperactive vision missed its mark,
electric lighting would eliminate the glowing
and flicker-flacker tallow candles would make room
for the new light bulb and its rather pushy mother,
of course our friend again, today we can assume
that much of progress, mankind's growth did have no other
but that sweet beverage of roasted beans behind it.
And, to this day you ask the Nobel Prize Committee
and you will find that they use coffee and they grind it,
to help them think and make decisions, and be witty
about who gets to win the next Prize of Nobél,
it's always coffeedrinkers, never tea and toast
who find the secrets of the universe and tell
the real story of the very innermost
and so elusive, well ambiguous connections.
Though this is changing with the advent of that drink,
which has already swept through population sections
of global villages and countries on the brink.
And now I'll leave you with a riddle you can ponder,
a brandnew custom has befallen caffeine.
You and I may just sit back and gently wonder
how plenty Vodka will affect that coffee bean.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: today poems, power poems, light poems, friend poems, mother poems, red poems, sleep poems, people poems, dark poems, murder poems, change poems
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|