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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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2517.
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Tallebudgera
The town was called
Tallebudgera, it's true
that those dilapidated shacks
housed only Black Fellows.
They'd taken over when
the mine did fold, and people,
without a livelihood just left.
And now, the streets were,
truly, littered with the stubbies,
empty Four X, the labels fading.
The guys in suits came out,
and had a look, then promptly
unceremoniously declared
that Blacks ough to be locked
into the dungeons of Mount Isa.
So, it was done, and that small town
reverted back to what it never was,
a town of ghosts of times long gone.
The year that followed saw group
of white men with their squaws
and squealing kids and a few dogs.
They settled in and paid no rent,
nor rates. The local shop revived
and cashed the welfare cheques,
too soon the streets were littered,
once again, with empty stubbies.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2518.
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Tallebudgera - Revisited
Tallebudgera, my kind of town,
a black community and sunburnt place.
At night it is the 'roos and hairy wombats
the daytime does belong to four-ex beer.
The blokes in Canberra, they ain't fair dinkum,
but there has never been a day without the grog,
could be they like us, all the black fellows,
and when the train goes by they stand and wave.
Life can be good like this, no need to ever work
live off the land and keep the inner workings wet,
white fellow made his peace some yonks ago,
and serves his sly apologies on a big platter.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2519.
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Tangles
I'm sending you a kiss for each
that came my way and I could reach.
That makes a thousand now, with ease
but could send a million please?
Soon, if you're game, we'll have inflation
which calls for one big celebration.
To count each kiss we need to hover,
in bed, and under cotton cover,
there, we would place each with great care
onto the skin (it must be bare) ,
the one who places must keep track
of the reaction, front or back.
Then, other regions are explored
and, once again, the tally scored.
A time-consuming task it is
and in the end, I'll be your wiz,
and you are mine if you desire,
by then our loins may be on fire.
I am a trifle lazy, sweet
however, I will touch your feet
and work my way to all your zones,
through hills and valleys, funny bones
and secret places, dry or wet
I praise the moment when we met.
I say let's tangle, you and me
and squeeze our way to harmony.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2520.
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Tara
And may I ask you now,
to keep, as from today
a chair next to your bed?
Reserved for me, of course,
should ever come the time
when darkness comes
dressed as Senora Noce,
and digs its bony fingers
inside the sanctuary of
your featherbed, my girl.
I shall be ready then,
at your command, just yell,
I'll dropp the dregs of life
and take my rightful place
there, next to you, my sweet.
I'll count your dream like breaths
and watch the rouge
upon your cheeks compete
with ruby lips that glisten
and lashes well aflutter.
Leave all the things to me!
No devils will come near
as long as I can sit with you,
I am your guard, not for the night
but for the life of you and me,
and, like a father to your soul
if you'll feel safer I will hold
both of your living hands in mine.
Herbert Nehrlich
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