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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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213.
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Butt Coconuts
A man with a humongous butt
was injured by a coconut.
He'd taken Max the cattle hound
for a short walk across the ground.
He passed the windy esplanade
and sought the comfort of some shade
which was, together with a breeze
available beneath the trees.
The dog, conditioned by genetics
and hardly fond of pure aesthetics,
would lift his leg and spray a mist
onto each tree, thus it be kissed
and grow through fertiliser bigger
(here, nitrogen would be the trigger) .
One tree, a stately specimen
liked neither dogs nor gentlemen,
it stood there, seemingly contented
but in its brain it was demented,
so, in a fraction of a second
it thought, considered and then reckoned
that timing was the real key,
the dog paid dearly for his pee.
The man as well, and here's the story,
the tree made hound and human sorry,
by shaking due to agitation,
which was enabled by dilation
of pulmonary arteries,
and squeezing of the tree's own knees,
releasing pure adrenalin
and setting up the tree to win.
Some eighteen coconuts were hanging
and in the wind, were gently banging
until the shaking cut them loose,
and, heavy weights due to their juice,
they crashed high speed onto the mutt
and knocked the human on his butt.
The moral is trees are majestic
that goes for foreign and domestic.
But now and then, they stand their ground,
dropp coconuts on man and hound.
Herbert Nehrlich
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214.
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Caves
There were so many,
they hung their heads
as if in shame
and swayed, unnoticed
buoyed by the staleness
of belated centuries
and, by and by they dripped
onto the rocky grounds
their semen as if it could
renew this world, its breath
and, as the devil watched,
the thorn of stalagtite
slipped with a tiny cry
into the petal gate, so moist
of what has been described
by Gods and man alike
as stalagmites, those givers of
the ambience of caves
and of its secret womb.
It was the taste of love
the force that does perpetuate
the beat of each small heart
which, in its own noblesse,
surprises even Gods.
Herbert Nehrlich
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215.
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Cherries
I see them now, red ruby and engorged,
would there be any way to have a taste.
God made infinity, He planned and forged
He saw a temple of the law of waste.
A taste of ruby red, I've lived too long,
tastebuds are truly dead
I have your song.
Please say HELLO to Fred,
I bid good night to you,
I shall withdraw,
please keep your flying crew
inside my bra.
Herbert Nehrlich
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216.
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Chubby
Would you do me up dear, please?
Pull a little harder, they still growin'
Funny you should say this, they are not,
lard accumulates beneath a woman's skin
good thing though, otherwise they'd droop
and interfere with waistband and below,
I say it is the Lindt you have each day
and after dinner mints, but hey
I'm not the one to scold you, chubbygirl
the Atkins Diet, you could give it a whirl.
Herbert Nehrlich
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