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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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181.
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Rhyming Practice
Would someone please tell
why a terrible smell
tends to follow no laws
and ignores eehs and aaaws
why it hangs in the air
as if wanting its share
of our closest attention
I just wanted to mention
that the odour of fish
and the smelly old quiche
of the Longhorns down south
still falls out of her mouth.
If you notice the smell
hold your nostrils and yell
it's a choice, hell or heaven
my AK-forty-seven.
Herbert Nehrlich
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182.
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Short Story
There once lived, in the forest green
a tribe whose attitude was mean.
They killed and maimed and robbed the men
who wandered by in groups of ten.
Word had spread quickly in the land
and to the King came the demand
that something needed to be done.
The King himself went down to see
and when he got there had to pee.
Behind a tree he hid his jewel
watched by the natives who were cruel
and out to shoot each poisoned arrow
into the flesh of Royal marrow.
The story needs to be aborted
the poet had to be escorted
away from this, a timid site
he'll sit in penance, overnight
until his senses do come back
if failing that he needs to pack
and tell his story to the Vicar
and leave us here to stir and bicker.
Herbert Nehrlich
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183.
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Sleep Now, My Love
I place you,
gently
on your pillow,
first on your back,
the weather's cooled,
a jumper would not do
my sweet,
you need to be
relaxed and free,
I pull the satin sheets
up
covering the twins,
and hear your sigh,
yes, I shall be,
as all those other nights,
behind you,
wrapping arms
around you,
closely,
my fingertips
caressing,
now and then
while clutching
your committed hands,
and huddles, yes,
we sleep in synch,
I turn
while you remain
so it behooves
to be alert
and in our trance
when in our night
we love
and carry on our dance.
It has been shocking, folks
the sheer intensity
of how two simple souls
could meet,
not in the heat of night
but at the Pub,
and near enough High Noon,
to link,
connect their souls
and shun what one would think
to be essential to us all,
and then to hold
their hands,
and all the other parts
just to be one,
It puzzles me,
and US,
yet there would never need to be
a doubt,
a valiant effort to
unravel all,
to show the world
and get the nod
from those who never
ever will
be on our side.
It is a fact
that little souls
will want you down,
to be unhappy
and to have them clip
your feathered wings.
Pay no attention though,
it must be YOU
and me
who will decide,
so let me kiss these
sleepy eyes,
and smell your skin,
while I am privileged
to sleep
in what can be
described
the company
of YOU.
Herbert Nehrlich
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184.
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Some Limericks
In the village there lived a strange hound,
he would always just wander around.
When he sniffed other critters
he would suffer the jitters
and you soon found him underground.
********************************************************
There once lived a grouchy old broad
who behaved like an arrogant god.
One could see on her shoulders
not a chip but big boulders
and her shoulder pads looked rather odd.
*********************************************************
There once was a dummy named Ark
who would hide and then shoot from the dark,
with the chest of a pigeon
and the brain of a smidgeon.
And his bite was as weak as his bark.
**********************************************************
In the cold near the stormy Atlantic
stands a cottage that looks quite romantic.
And the man who's inside,
he has something to hide.
And his secrets look rather pedantic.
**********************************************************
A granny who was a great poet,
she has posted her and we all know it.
She has once been so tipsy
that the gang named her Gypsy
so she seized all her talent to grow it.
******************************************************
There once was a lady named Flo
who made Pizza from blackberry dough.
And this wonderful snack
turned consumers all black.
That's a racial remark as you know.
*******************************************************
There once was a grumpy old Kraut,
he was blond and blue-eyed and quite stout.
And he proved a quick learner
and his first name was Wernher
he was almost an astronaut.
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There once was a groucho named Hitler,
he imagined himself as a fiddler.
He climbed up to the roof
and the world then went poof.
And I dedicate this to Bett Middler.
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In the desertland close to San Diego,
sits a woman and plays with her Lego.
She is probably fat
with the face of a bat
and she drives a dark blue Winnebago.
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I once knew a grumpy old Jew,
they had baptised the boy, named him Prew.
He became my best buddy
when he helped me to study.
He's now running the Hannover Zoo.
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There once was a Condoleeza,
she required no visitor's visa.
When she went to Beijing
for a little old fling,
but was told off by Chinaman Geezer.
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There once lived a man named Hussein.
He was powerful, cruel and vain.
Then the big Honcho Yankee
who despised Hanky-Panky
he devised a neat plan in his brain.
Get the ruler of all those strange turbans,
and behead him to end this disturbance.
And to make people free
he would give them the key.
And Iraquis would start drinking Bourbon.
****************************************************
There once was a leader named Howard
who had all the fine traits of a coward.
On the word from the Yanks
he had ordered his tanks.
And his friendship has thus never soured.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: romantic poems, people poems, poem poems, running poems, dark poems, woman poems, women poems
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