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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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2025.
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On Valentine's Day
Some chocolates on Valentine,
and later on, a bit of wine.
A bunch of rare exotic flowers
to brighten up the evening hours.
And worry not, the stars will shine.
Forgotten are the many days
on which you had, in countless ways
seen her for granted by the Gods
what did you reckon were the odds
that she would think you needed praise?
And if you are not nearly blind
you'll think of Valentine's and find
that all the other days were cloudy
you didn't even tell her 'howdy'
and yet, on Valentine's you're kind.
May I suggest you change your style?
and always spend a longer while
and kiss her on her lovely lips
and hug her tight around the ribs
and walk with her your common mile.
The chocolate, flowers and the wine
and even stars, so bright, that shine
can in their own mysterious ways
be in reserve for special days
But daily kisses would be fine.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: valentine poems, chocolate poems, change poems, kiss poems, star poems, flower poems
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2026.
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On Wings Of Prayer
The night before the big examination
I had a restless, rather fitful sleep.
I would have happily gone into hibernation,
instead I'd promised to myself that I would keep
this date with destiny, which would decide some things.
The hall was roomy, with well-arched acoustic ceiling
and eight professors sat around a U-shaped table.
As I marched in they noticed I had wings,
attached to triceps. I was thinking 'what a feeling'.
The man in front asked me if I would now be able
to answer questions that were difficult but fair.
Or whether I had come today to make a fool
of self and others, with my wings of prayer.
I was confused, the atmosphere was hostile,
perhaps a measure of plain ridicule intended.
One had to demonstrate the value of our school,
and every utterance and answer had to be defended.
First question, seemed quite easy at the time,
just when I tried to give a logic-bearing answer,
when one professor said it was perhaps no crime
but 'would you tell us, are you then a natural dancer? '
I was so shocked, my wings were fluttering and shaking.
Afraid to look, pretended I was sleeping,
the voice continued, saying I was really taking
up too much time today and that in proper keeping
with all the rules and regulations of the board,
I could not stand in front of them without attire
and wings of prayer, as no help from our Lord
was authorised, permitted or wanted.
His words by now were loud, distinct and full of fire,
he pointed downward, 'seeing that you so obscenely flaunt it,
I must insist that you go now to our auditorium
and there parade in front of all your friends and our staff,
to follow that we'll have a simple moratorium
on what to do with you, so go, don't make us laugh! '
I grabbed a heavy velvet curtain by the door,
to cover private parts and look much less suspicious,
traversed the overcrowded auditorium floor,
to face the boos and baas, the atmosphere was rather vicious.
It was disastrous and I strongly felt like sinking,
when now the crowd surrounded me up close.
And desperation often stimulates our urgent thinking,
just one, two, flap when all so suddenly I rose
above my past, my present, all that ever counted,
flew out the window into futuristic skies.
Inside my buzzing head the apprehension quickly mounted,
where was the real truth and who was telling lies?
Then, passing flocks of birds, amongst them was an owl,
the sun was bright and breezy, freedom hovered in the air.
I felt a gentle lift from warming currents of my soul.
The drapes had dropped, I saw that still my ass was bare.
And of necessity I was above all others,
so looking down came natural that way.
And I could see the countless sheep with all their mothers
awaiting judgment well before their coming judgment day.
It was a sign, I think the owl just winked
in passing, but the wise ones do just that.
I flapped my wings once more and very slowly blinked,
when out of nowhere there appeared a bat.
To drift for hours then on cushions of warm air
allowed me thoughts of iridescent retrospection.
At last, here was the truth, its body was as bare
as I, who now had found, stark naked, his direction.
Then four alarmclocks I had set the night before
all screamed at once to me 'get up, get up ',
so, quite perturbed I am, and hesitate no more,
get quickly dressed and grab a hasty cup.
And when I entered minutes later the large hall,
where the professors had been sitting idly, waiting,
I saw my image in the mirror on the wall, while stating
my name and number, place of birth and year.
Their eyes approved me, with a nod, and smiling slightly.
At last I knew the real reason I was here
and started to heat up and to perspire lightly.
And all went well then in the very final end,
I reckon if a person's dream this odd and weird
could really happen in one night, then, well my friend
it's something just like this I've always feared.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: today poems, truth poems, destiny poems, mirror poems, school poems, freedom poems, birth poems, night poems, rose poems, friend poems, sleep poems, fire poems, dream poems, sun poems, smile poems, sky poems, fear poems
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2027.
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ONE
Sitting here with my old gun
name is Herbie, I'm a Hun
through the window peeks the sun
there it is, another ONE.
Is it someone having fun
knowing not that every ONE
is a cousin to the Pun
it is likely he would shun
light of day, so he would run
so when things are said and done
intellect there must be none
could I have another ONE.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2028.
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One Day In The Life Of JC
Up early just to do some sports
is JC in his boxershorts.
He likes the flowers and the bells
but buys what JC Penney's sells.
He's out on his own balcony
and thinks the neighbours cannot see.
But from the corner of the street
is one who's dying just to meet
the desert poet JC Carter
who maybe just that fraction smarter
then other poets in the region,
though poets there are hardly legion.
She watches him perform the crunch
and gets a new poetic hunch.
She sees him cracking now his neck
and tells herself, oh what the heck,
with speed and Arizona grace
she drops her body now to face
the morning sun with one great curl
when JC spots the active girl.
He drops his torso on his knees
does semi-pushups, what a tease,
she watches and is soon impressed
he keeps it going without rest!
One thousand one he counts aloud
below has gathered a big crowd,
behind him opens the screen door
he's waiting for the words 'do more'.
But now it is the spouse, all dressed
she takes it in, is not impressed.
Because the girl, in her bikini
has freed herself just like Houdini.
And in the heat of her endeavour
(perhaps she was extremely clever)
the ties had loosened in the heat
the sight, it's true, was hard to beat.
Now Carter had been in flagranti
he left the balcony, avanti
and did agree, without a fight
that he would take, each Thursday night
the trash out back right to the street
and pile it up so it looked neat.
She also gave him other chores
in an attempt to fix his mores.
I'm sorry if this story got
onto this site, and it is not
that I'm a blabbermouth, no way.
I just tell stories if I may.
Herbert Nehrlich
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