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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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1637.
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I Am Not An Alcoholic
But mother, I am always fine
and yes, I did receive the wine
your package came on Monday night
the gift was wonderful, just right.
You asked re spirits and my health
and whether I am gaining wealth.
The latter has been quite elusive
the former always is inclusive.
You see those spirits keep me well
as any doctor sure could tell
he is a loser who assumes
that man should live without the fumes
of what those little tiny beasts
called ethanol-producing yeasts
with diligence in many hours
create, to make me smell the flowers.
I know that you and Dad are crazy
retired, ignorant and lazy.
You disapprove of me, your girl
your once adored and pretty pearl.
My boss is from the same old block
a stuffy, stoic, dimwit cock.
He could not see the worth of me
called me a constant absentιe.
The cops who took my car away
just wanted me to pay and pay
their fines and even for the towing
the judge himself was so all-knowing.
My landlord cannot wait a week
for rent, the future there looks bleak.
It's not my fault though, mother dear
and don't believe what you may hear.
I'm ill and drinking is my lot
my mind directs and I am not
at leisure to curtail the booze,
it isn't something that I choose.
The gods have given me the genes
that had me drinking in my teens.
And now, at thirty it is you
who sends me purple vineyard brew? !
How can I get my life in order
when brain cells call, like a recorder
to feed them quickly firewater?
I'm asking you! Your loving daughter.
Herbert Nehrlich
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1638.
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I Am Your Piper
I can hear the children now,
competing with the songs
and lullabies of happiness,
of friendly frigate birds
while I, the one with fiery eyes,
wait for the darkness of the night
when inborn principles
and the kindness of humanity
shall be torn up like the old shirt
that priests do wear in private life.
Mind you, this is no case of obsolescence,
as, for a hoarder I do seldom part
with well-worn clothes and useless things,
yet this is a new age, new rules apply.
I shall look back for my approval,
will surely find it in medieval times,
you've taken out my heart with frigid hands
but while it manages its final beats
you will have found a simple piper
who only takes all of his pay in blood.
Herbert Nehrlich
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1639.
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I Answer You
You have,
since I first read
your facial lines
your hands,
of liking birds
and more,
made an impression
on my heart,
you dented it
with gentle hands,
perhaps you nuzzled
even brushed your lips
for one small moment
yet concavities may stay.
My heart went on
to beat
with regularity,
quite unaware
and it was fine
within itself,
a hermit's life,
but then,
it was a day
that time forgot,
birds flew due South
and dew fell from the sky
to cool all spiders' feet,
and to remind of you,
it spoke,
wet as it was
through haze,
and great disguises
to a pair of hearts,
and pointed to the dent,
and touched
as with each beat
the spot would change,
expanding first
and then retreat
as if to hold a talk
inside.
And then,
with gentleness
the hearts combined
two flowers,
petals free
limbs intertwined,
becoming one,
there was a truth
that oversaw
metamorphosis
binding She and He,
to a great symbol
of a fiery gold,
it was the fire of
infinity.
Herbert Nehrlich
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1640.
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I Ban
So, what do you want my man?
You're not my closest fan.
To you, I'm an also ran
let me now reveal my plan:
I ban, I ban and I ban,
quite simply because I can.
Herbert Nehrlich
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