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Poems By Poet Herbert Nehrlich  5/17/2012 8:59:12 PM
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  Best Poems From
  HERBERT NEHRLICH (04 October 1943)
 
 
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  165.     

Goethe's Poetry (Bilingual)

Ein Gedicht ist nicht
was ein duemmlicher Wicht
schreibt auf's Klopapier
in der Hoffnung dass wir
uns beim Lesen erfreuen
doch wir wuerden's bereuen
denn wie Goethe, der Dichter,
auf'm Friedhof da liecht 'er.

A poem can't be
what a he or a she
jots on toilet paper
with the hope that this caper
will bring joy to us all.
Real poets stand tall,
HE rests quite contrary
in a cemetary.
 
Herbert Nehrlich
   
 

   
   
 

  166.     

Happy Birthday, Mary

The birds are silent now,
all called to order by the owl.
It is a memorable time
and honour goes to those
who would bestow it.

And handed down
through generations
by feathered friends
are special sounds
for few occasions.

The tones that rang
and echoed sweetly
this day, back then
have come with you
to keep you well
and be good company.

And tiny hearts
will beat and be aware
of human souls
who do embrace
all life and limb
who love their sheer
autonomy
and live in goodness
as perpetuity.
 
Herbert Nehrlich
   
 

   
   
 

  167.     

Healthcare

Only true stealth
trades someone's wealth
for shaky health.
 
Herbert Nehrlich
   
 

   
   
 

  168.     

Hunger

Black as the darkest night,
surrounded by a thousand dollar suit,
and golden clasp on purple tie
he stopped his ship of fools
along the road outside the shantytown.

'Say, little boy, go home you filthy rat,
you bastards have no manners and no pride,
polluting the environment of our great land
and breeding like the rabbits of Zimbabwe.'

He told the chauffeur to avoid the piles of poo,
that decorated all the roadsides everywhere,
it is a custom and avoids the straying lions.
There was a group of children, thin and sunken eyes,
the limousine came to another halt.

'Do you now shit in the savannah, little boy? '
'Why do ask, your excellency, why do you ask? '
'I see no pretzels here and something is amiss',
he says in answer, with a puzzle on his face.
'Oh that is nothing Sir, we have not changed at all,
it's just that pretzels do not come out at the end
unless you put the base ingredients in the top.'
 
Herbert Nehrlich
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Herbert Nehrlich