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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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1033.
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Caveman
Inside a dark and silent cave
he heard the sounds of pain,
he'd ventured far, a man so brave,
had thought it a small drain.
Without a sound small geysers spat,
the path lost all its friction,
no need to smell an ugly rat
or face post-haste eviction.
The fit was snug twixt tepid walls,
the ground now wide awake,
he'd left outside his trusted balls
in case there was a quake.
Herbert Nehrlich
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1034.
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Cedar Avenue Bridge
'And would you', said the lovely maiden
in Minnesota's early hours,
where in deep snow moonlight was fading,
'come up and have a drink, your flowers
do need a vase and CPR.
No, I'm okay, I live here, 'member,
and never stray or go too far,
I LOVE the snowstorms of December
and am surprised that minus twenty,
for one not used to it like you,
has not exhausted you, there's plenty
whose lips and ears would be dark blue.
It's something to be much admired,
when, after walking here all day
that you would not be deadly tired,
you'd only want to hit the hay.'
I thought that I did like that thought
and that my prospects looked quite good,
a strange fatigue that I had fought
much earlier, I'd feared it would
come back to trip me, keep me guessing.
I trapsed around all goddamn day
to end up here, receive her blessing,
to have a drink and maybe stay!
Upstairs we went, the place was heaven,
and half the room was one big bed,
it now was quarter past eleven -
ten hours after we had met.
We had that drink, it was Jack Daniels,
it hit the spot in my insides.
My memory recalls two Spaniels
that barked next door. Where Mum resides.
We'd shed some heavy outer layers
and kicked our boots against the door,
a statue of the great Nay sayers,
of Minnetonka graced the floor.
Soft music, it was Aznavour,
the logs were mesmerising me,
ice from the porch, Jack Daniels pure,
I placed one hand upon her knee....
So, what on earth was (somehow) missing,
that tiny but so crucial step,
from idle talk to eager kissing,
if there was tide then this was ebb.
We had a studious conversation,
Kristin, it was a Nordic name,
had turned the start of my vacation
into an arctic winter game.
And soon, the bell would have its toll,
the sweetest voice one could remember,
recalled me from a leading role
in dreams of love, the Queen of Slumber
had not released her yet to me.
I briefly wondered what if any
activities had broken free,
I was quite young, had not known many
long mutual nights, with Uncle Jack.
I saw the bottle then and knew
that we had slept on that big sack,
like tired people always do.
Thus, smiling, faces bittersweet
had scrambled eggs and wrinkled bacon,
and 'wondertoast' and silverbeet,
that's what she had.
But godforsaken, and noticeable urges rose,
we did the dishes, me the drying,
outside the Mississippi froze,
when she remarked 'I would be lying
if in this room we will remain,
look at that snow, the sky is blue,
don't you agree, we'd be insane...
so would you like to see the Zoo?
Across the Cedar Bridge, then right,
about eight miles, one way it is,
and should we take my Chinese kite? '
Stood on her toes, one tiny kiss
and off we went to that damn Zoo,
another day, now minus thirty.
And yes, the bloomin sky was blue.
Kristin was happy, rather flirty,
and what a day it was, so WOW!
Arriving 'home' just after dark
I was preparing, thinking how
once past those ugly dogs that bark,
I'd stay awake for sweet erotics
another bottle of old Jack
requiring only plain robotics
and one can drink Jack on one's back.
The same routine today, with supper,
I peeled potatoes in a hurry.
We ate from fake Wisconsin Tupper,
the meal was cardboard taste plus curry.
Then we relaxed close to the bed
me thinking of the time invested.
My body felt like it was dead,
and, once again, oh MY.....you guessed it.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: snow poems, dark poems, sky poems, memory poems, winter poems, music poems, kiss poems, remember poems, rose poems, happy poems, people poems, heaven poems, home poems, dog poems, dream poems, fear poems, flower poems, sleep poems, smile poems
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1035.
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Cedric Didn't Fly South
In Europe, all the feathered friends
get ready when the summer ends
to fly themselves to Italy,
away from winter misery.
A flock of sparrows soon were packing
their luggage for the lengthy trip,
one sparrow though was clearly lacking
the energy, he meant to skip
the annual, exhaustive flights.
He also was afraid of heights.
The tribe took to the air at dawn
but Cedric offered a big yawn,
went back into the empty nest,
convinced his choice had been the best.
Three weeks into the frosty days
young Cedric felt a strange malaise,
no matter how he fluffed each feather
he could not stand this icy weather.
Reluctantly, he waved good-bye
rose up into the freezing sky.
But, as he passed a local farm
he noted with renewed alarm
that both his wings were icing badly,
he moved them faster, trying madly
to get the circulation going.
Meanwhile his fears were quickly growing.
His efforts were to no avail,
he dropped just when a bit of hail
came from a cloud devoid of charm
and landed hard, inside a farm.
Near death he opened burning eyes
and saw, to his extreme surprise
a cow who wandered slowly by.
When she was close she dropped a pie
of mushy, brown and warm manure.
It was salvation. soft and pure.
His frozen blood thawed in a flash
and he felt fine inside this mash.
His voice returned, he sang a song,
though this, decidedly, was wrong.
A cat who happened to be near
said to herself 'What have we here? '
She dragged the sparrow from the pie
and, with great pleasure, ate the guy.
The moral, if you're up to it:
Someone who drops on you some shit
ain't by necessity your foe.
But she, who offers you a hand
may never qualify as friend.
And most importantly, if you
are to your ears in bovine poo,
keep eyes and ears and your big mouth
closed tightly, else you must fly south.
Herbert Nehrlich
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1036.
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Cemetery Dreams (Haiku)
When you see robbers
behind each scrawny cedar
it's paranoia.
And when you fathom
that homocysteine is
out of the bible
and that a gangster
who fooled the Royal Mounties
describes the ovens
then it is time man
to hang your head and shudder
and take your valium.
The great Houdini
or was it someone smarter
said go and wait there
He meant the Boneyard
and that we could hang out there
await our turn.
But human beings
have never grasped the meaning
of death in earnest.
We are so clingy
and will not part with honour
because of envy.
Or are we jealous
do we begrudge the living
to view our passing?
Let's lean on marble
and close our tired eyes now.
Juniper bushes.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: death poems, haiku poems, time poems, smart poems, dream poems
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