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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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17.
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Escape From The Salad Bowl
When the little salad onion
saw the knife of stainless steel,
she forgot her crippling bunion
which would have to wait to heal
later when the danger's gone.
So the little onion fled
from the table down and on
to the dachshund's fluffy bed.
Down the stairs, onto the street,
stranded in the dirty gutter,
staring into sure defeat
together with the utter clutter.
Came a gust of winter weather,
brought more stuff into the curb.
One of them, a great big feather.
Thought the onion, 'Ill disturb
this dilemma for my sake.'
At that moment the street sweeper
came, and -with her life at stake-
quickly prayed to God, her keeper
where her prayer then was heard.
Southern winds can be uplifting,
go and ask a passing bird,
one of those, now coming, shifting
some heavy things around the town.
Picked up both stowaway and feather,
the onion mumbled 'Up, not down',
it was a godsent, this foul weather.
And that is how, from any salad
an onion can escape my friend.
If you enjoyed this truthful ballad
you've read to here, which is the end.
Herbert Nehrlich
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18.
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10 Haikus And Some Wisdom
Hand in hand
hand in it
it in hand
it in it.
Tongue in cheek
tongue in it
it on tongue
it in it.
***********
Haiku
Walk along with me
thinking of your underwear
is it boxershorts?
It is alkaline
care needs to be taken though
that jeans are noble.
It is a wonder
that no one likes the mothers
and does God know this?
Once a world power
they had illusions only
they do mean nothing.
On Hitler's birthday
they chanted filthy slogans
the Pope a Nazi.
His name was Clinton
he placed his crooked member
where no one ought to.
A friend named Yeltsin
he likes his vodka bottle
and dances Polka.
I am a racist
I like to step and stomp on
the fly-by pedal.
A dog named Adolf
he was the undertaker
for many roaches.
A cat named Lucy
she was so pseudo-pregnant
we named her Mamma.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: haiku poems, cat poems, dog poems, dance poems, power poems, friend poems, god poems, world poems
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19.
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For My Favourite Niece Mara - Happy Birthday!
Auf Kamel in der Wueste Sahara
ritt ein Maedchen mit Vornamen Mara.
Kam ein Sturm mit viel Sand
sagte Mara 'das Land
ist ja schlimmer als Guadalajara.'
Nach zwei Wochen war Mara am Ende
war so hilflos wie einst bei der Wende.
doch es gab keine Brause
und es trieb sie nach Hause
im Computer da drueckte sie SENDE.
Schon kam Opa, ganz eifrig am Suchen.
Jeder Wuestenfuchs hoerte ihn fluchen.
'Ja wo ist denn das Kind?
Wenn ich Mara nicht find
dann esse ich selber den Kuchen.'
Herbert Nehrlich
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20.
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Soccer
I always have liked soccer.
Such a rough game.
Such skills required.
And popular.
Hometown watching,
on Sunday morning.
When one day,
I found that I needed
to withdraw.
It was the honourable
thing to do.
Herbert Nehrlich
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