|
|
|
Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
|
|
| |
|
|
1953.
|
Moth-Er (For Grown Children)
A mousegray, speckled, hungry moth
had found the vicar's holy cloth.
When darkness drifted from the spire
she started chewing the attire.
Slid from the pulpit at great speed
a moth whose body was in need.
Unerring was his navigation
though churches practice obfuscation.
God knows that moths eat just like swine
they smack and grunt as they recline
their favourite food is cotton plain
which they can usually obtain
where people wear old fashioned frocks
like vicar's robes and cotton socks.
He did approach her from behind
not knowing whether she would mind.
And in the folds of holy cloth
he perpetrated on the moth
a carnal act (one to another)
soon after, moth became a moth-er.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
1954.
|
Mother Carp
First was the violin,
its plaintive melody
arousing drummerboy
bass cello, and the harp,
they'd play a symphony
to drummerboy's sly grin.
All little fishies sang the 'fish ahoy'
and dove into the mouth of Mother Carp.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
1955.
|
Mother Goose
The pillow cradled her gray locks,
she dreamed about a goose,
the night was cold and she wore socks
of pleasant baby blue.
When in the morning she awoke,
her dream was still so vivid,
she realised this was no joke,
sat up, became quite livid.
They'd tied (inside her dream) a noose
around the lovely neck
of that benign Canadian goose,
out on the Boathouse deck.
As through the window peeked the willow
she quickly donned her shoes,
picked up and hugged her fluffy pillow..
it was her Mother Goose.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
1956.
|
Mother Of Mine
She's still around
as the indifferent are
so fond of saying.
It took decades for me
to realise that
I may have reason to be,
in more ways than one,
seeing myself as a chosen,
what would prompt the gods
to bless me in such manner?
Yes, she is getting old,
fractured femur was part
and is still parcel,
as the indifferent say,
wouldn't leave the bed
or give up that blasted
fetal position, she assumed
I would take it in stride,
which is, needless to say
an idea of great exotic value,
I mean, a mother, in bed
being pampered and pitied,
give me a break, it was I
who needed the stroking.
Well, she is doing more than,
much more than doctors and those
cranky nurses had thought she was
capable and willing of,
and Amen to that. I knew it,
always have known these things,
all along so to speak.
Can't say I'm pleased now,
fronting the high care room,
and that little bundle of pallor,
whose only ambition is the lift,
which, God willing, will take her,
one day before the winds of change
or the presence of that grim one
could say number three, up again
into her own place, two balconies,
a home of beauty, her very own,
and here I stand, keeping my nose
and the other senses oblivious
to the malodorous ambience,
loaded with a basket of Lindt's best,
even found some of that blackberry,
complete with rhubarb jam she so likes,
Mars bars, something she took home
in eighty two from the Yanks,
a nice visit it was, general was with her,
back to the Fatherland where they knew
and stock countless shelves with it.
You thought of everything, what a nice
I knew she would say that, a nice boy,
well, I replied, in the usual tradition,
you raised the boy now, didn't you.
Sergeant of a nurse had to butt in,
yes we, Mother and I know, we do, of course,
she can't have all this right at the moment,
it's an advance for the move upstairs,
must be prepared, whole family always,
and still, subscribe to that, be prepared.
She dosed off again, even a slight snore,
feeble but with its own pesky presence, it did
add a new dimension to all this silence,
strange though, you could have assumed
that they were all dead down here, oldies,
in the case of the mother of mine, though,
undoubtedly a goodie. Can you say greatie?
Herbert Nehrlich
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|