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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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241.
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Hydrogen Bomb
On the fiery red horizon,
closing down this wretched day,
Captain Cedric now surmising
who should be the one to stay
when the missiles started flying.
World War Three had just begun.
Soon there would be no one crying,
not one mother for her son.
And no preacher full of frust
utter words like 'dust to dust'.
All the living would be ending
for the godforsaken reason,
that a thunder of heart-rending
mass destruction follow treason.
Limp old men were sitting pretty
in their bunkers and debated
how they could improve their shitty
life on earth, which, as they stated
'd been corrupted by their foes.
And swift punishment would follow,
killing blacks and whites and those
who were hiding in the hollow.
First lieutenant peeked his head in,
'I'll take over on the bridge',
'Aye, Aye' sounded, he was getting
one last beer out of the fridge.
At that moment something louder,
unfamiliar to his ears,
from the ceiling fell like powder
chunks of gyp-rock, several beers
now exploded on the rug.
Captain Cedric now was worried
and he scratched and with a shrug
pushed a button as he hurried
to the cabinet of liquor.
'Yes, my Captain', said a voice,
through the porthole came a flicker,
mushroom clouds, 'I want the boys
come up here, NOW, on the double,
all the rations of our Bundy *
break it open, 'cause this trouble
is the final. It is Sunday
and the last day of our lives.'
All the crew had now assembled,
some with photos of their wives,
held in hands that shook and trembled
as they sat down on the floor.
And the party now got gowing,
they all guzzled, then some more,
awesome fears were surely growing
and the missiles getting close.
lucky only would be those
who succeeded on this mission
which would beat the bloody Reaper.
That meant drinking, a decision
now permitted by their keeper.
When the Flash of Hiroshima
was repeated for their ship,
they were anchored close to Lima,
at the leg of their last trip.
When the heat of fifty thou'
had engulfed them no one cared.
Not a single one would now
after they had truly shared
precious minutes with their mates,
fret or worry, no, indeed
there would be no new debates,
for this crew had no more need.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: son poems, war poems, mother poems, red poems, fear poems
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242.
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Im Jardin des Plantes, Paris (Rilke Translation)
His eyes, from looking at the passing iron bars
have tired and no images will hold
he feels as if there were a thousand bars
albeit behind them no reality at all.
The supple grace of lightly treading steps
endless gyrations of the smallest kind
a dance of strength encircling a core
which holds, subdued and numb a mighty will.
Brief moments when the pupil's curtains slide
an image passes, silently, inside
goes through the quiet of the body's lissome limbs
and finds its final rest inside the creature's heart.
Herbert Nehrlich
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243.
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Inspirations
Like the poet who wrote
that he ran out
of inspiration,
of words.
And he asked the Gods,
would they, perhaps
give it back to him,
this thing
that allowed him
to talk to people.
And be heard.
The Gods had mercy.
He's back,
undiminished
and forgetting his humbleness.
I knew he would
be twice okay.
And that his cry was more
a song of empty feelings.
So, he won't miss me
or my words,
because
I may have
defied the Gods.
So said the devil
when he
burned my paper
and poured
all my ink
into the fire.
'You done' he said.
Perhaps I am.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: inspiration poems, song poems, fire poems, people poems, running poems
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244.
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Limerick For Sherrie - With Special Meaning
Fifty cows grazing on the green grass,
when a young one, a Polled Herford lass
tried to let out a burp,
it was more of a slurp.
Said the others 'you burp like an ass'.
Now, they knew that a donkey will chew
'til the grass turns to porridge, then pooh.
And an ass neither slurps
and an ass never burps.
It is cows without manners that do.
But the moral, please listen now, Norm.
Cows in school and inside the cows' dorm
call you unorthodox
with the traits of an ox.
You see, cows want all cows to conform
Herbert Nehrlich
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