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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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25.
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The Berlin Wall
It was the day after,
John Kennedy had
uncharacteristically loud,
shouted the unforgettable
and oft misquoted words
'Ich bin ein Berliner',
words that echoed back
from the remnants of
a wall that had been built
with capitalist materials
and communist anger.
Gorbatschov sat
in the Sauna of his datscha,
partaking liberally of
near-frozen Vodka, pure,
while sweating in the name
of the people and humanity.
The loudspeaker crackled to life,
and the hiss of the water Aufguss
could not drown them out,
these historical doves, so rare.
Later, when the actor turned prez
threw down the gauntlet, loudly,
with the flushed cheeks of anger
and righteous indignation,
'Mr. Gorbatschov, tear down this wall',
the entire world applauded,
though some did not mean it at all.
But I do think that the wall was torn
down in its entirety, that day in the Sauna.
Herbert Nehrlich
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26.
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A Tooth Fairytale (revised)
The plane touched down at LAX.
I'd nursed that tooth since graduation.
And I had hoped that the old Hex,
which might affect my presentation,
would show some mercy, just this time.
They were distinguished men of science,
who really felt it was a crime
to stand before them in defiance
and, lisping, occupy their time.
No scientist likes revolution,
it interferes with normal flow,
and does affect the execution
of comfort and 'I told you so'.
And then, the thought that bothers much
is why it had not come to me,
this newly-fangled Midas Touch,
which was a rebel's misery.
And here I was, the lower front,
it swayed with just the slightest breath.
They'd laugh their heads off at this stunt.
To flash a gap was certain death.
So, off I went for superglue.
And in the parking lot of SEARS
I lined them up, now feeling blue
and started with the drops and smears.
It would not set (some people stared) .
I tried until I'd swallowed much,
I was the only one who cared
to look presentable as such.
But glue discarded, I proceeded,
to chew, til soft, red bubble gum,
then placed the wad where it seemed needed
behind the teeth, it just felt numb.
It did not work, to my surprise,
so off I went for denture paste,
it figured that, one could surmise,
adhesive stuff would not in haste
fall off or swim away with spit.
I brought the extra strength, large tube,
it came with a repairer's kit.
It smelled like roses, name was GOOB.
I stayed the night with my Swiss friend,
an aviation top mechanic.
When I arrived the denture blend
was sloughing off, a mounting panic
had started spreading through my mind.
So we discussed, drank Gallo wine
what could be done and would we find
an answer if we did combine
our intellects, right here and now.
And Fred was thinking Swissmade thoughts,
I knew that he could figure how
to save the day, if willing Gods
could be enlisted in such ventures.
Fred works on planes and is quite skilled
but when it came to teeth and dentures,
he said to get this wish fulfilled
a miracle must come to visit.
And since we must be self-sufficient,
pretend it's easy, right, so IS it,
Swiss minds are laterally conditioned.
Into his shop we then proceeded,
to find a quick and foolproof way
of stabilising what was needed:
A tooth that didn't want to stay.
When I said Thanks with a 't-h',
my tongue performed its usual chore,
it pushed against those tired, aged
incisors that were young no more.
And then I saw it, felt it wiggle:
It had now fallen over, 'FARKKK'
is all I uttered (Fred did giggle)
'I'm sorry, didn't mean to bark! '
And Fred spat out his short Havana,
retrieved some shiny aircraft wire,
and then pronounced the words 'Mens sana,
in corpore sano', with fire,
and great conviction, humming now,
some tools and 'open wide' he barked.
Next to the barn I heard his sow
was mocking our hopes, he sparked
Arc Welder into instant action
and placed the tooth next to its neighbour,
I prayed that not a new extraction
would happen with his frantic labour.
Fred fiddled, tinkered, hammered, screwed,
explained that aircraft stuff was used.
I sat there, slumped and more subdued,
when Fred's face smiled, he was amused.
'Well, Doctor H' (he calls me that) ,
'we do good work, you must admit,
let's go inside, I think that Matt
is coming over, so we'll sit
and have a bite of things to eat.
So how does Pumpernickel sound,
it's hard and crusty, cheese and meat,
and German mustard I just found.
And for dessert some Northwest pears
and crispy pretzels, dipped in cream.
Tomorrow there won't be no stares
and you retain your self-esteem.'
I skipped the pears and pretzel sticks,
not that I didn't trust his skill,
I know no dentist could thus fix
a situation where the will
to win is uppermost in mind.
And if it's needed we can do
just what it takes to seek and find.
That's what a friend can do for you.
Note: The above story is true.
No names have beeen changed as there
were no innocent to protect.
Herbert Nehrlich
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27.
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COCKY
A woman's job it is to gather
the eggs at dawn on our farm,
while hubby whips up shaving lather
and grandma keeps the woodstove warm.
The rooster sounds an early warning,
both to the flock and to the thief,
that's the routine for every morning -
but I'll keep this cantata brief.
Our crafty chickens try their best
to let their offspring have a start,
constructing many decoy nests
whenever they're not laying hard.
The rooster is a real cock.
He struts around the barnyard, preening,
picks favourite hens within his flock
and shares with them - you get my meaning.
What happens in the morning after
he doesn't care about at all.
When he is sitting in the rafters
to plan another 'service call'.
The moral of the story is:
If men were charged with crucial duties,
the world would be a sorry mess.
Just ask our little chicken beauties.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: warning poems, sorry poems, woman poems, world poems, women poems
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28.
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God's Error
And God did know
the time would come
when all the birds were silent
and rivers stopped.
When flowers died
and overnight
the earth went mad
and showered all
with pure abandon.
And man did never know
how he had plundered
and happily exploited
all that had been bestowed
upon his soul to follow him
throughout a modest life.
It was the seventh day,
when God discovered
that he had failed to add
the spark of sheer appreciation
to those who would not be
inside the Paradise called Eden.
Regardless of the heavy blame
He never changed his mind
and locked the gates of Paradise
to all his humans, for all times.
Yet humans still persist, untiringly
to search in desperate hope
for one small key.
In vain.
Herbert Nehrlich
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