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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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2797.
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Those Puppies
The bitch was overdue.
No vet could be afforded
and the cries were growing,
ever louder, it was high time.
The oldest boy assumed,
with such an air of competence,
today's authority, he wiped away
the doubts of everyone, and lit
a cigarette that smelled so sweet,
then pulled out of his pocket a flask,
all shiny stainless steel, a mirror
perhaps of post-pubescent soul?
They all were guilty to the third degree.
And should have stopped him then,
before he killed them all, except the one.
But, no one had the guts to take the job
and not a single sound was heard
in protest of the bloodless slaughter.
His nicotine-stained fingers were,
that night, the forceps, used to maim
and kill, but not with kindness, no.
It was indifference that had befallen
and made its bed inside his mind,
he only had to lean into the down
to gather strength again and to go on
from deeds of misadventure to the awe
of being free to take your own sweet life
and hold it out to dry its melancholy tears,
and then, so near the end let go of it
and watch it flutter with uncertainty,
and with the grimace of despair, so brave
into its pre-ordained oblivion, after all.
The one survived and lived to see the day
when they took flowers to his marble stone,
if dogs could read we would now know
what all those golden letters said,
though there are times where, for us all
our lips must both stay stiff and also silent.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2798.
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Those Three Little Words
There are three little words
that did not emerge
when the crisis arrived
like a flock of black birds,
though that morning heard a vocabulary
of thousands of meaningless bits
as she went down the stairs I only whispered 'Mary'
but she left for a new world, of glamour and glitz.
She was tired of mucking the cowbarn and more,
was no farmer, this girl, born and bred in the city
I am sure that I was, to her, just a big bore
now I lost my best worker, which is a great pity.
Well, today I have come to the simple conclusion
that she would have, I could have, we should have stayed close,
if I had at the time known that utter illusion
is to love like lifeblood and the reason she chose
to just walk out that day and never turn back,
is the lack of the wisdom contained in my head
as they sat on my tongue as I watched Mary pack
and those three little words, they were never said.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2799.
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Those Unfortunate Ones
There once was a fat one with tits
who was missing some cognitive bits
but she could not resist
to try dancing the twist
never knew 'bout the its and the it's.
I have met some who knew not to spell
some were turned down at Taco Bell
they were simply too dumb
and their brain was the bum
they write its' - it's the its who can tell.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: dance poems
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2800.
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Thoughtfulness
I wake with you,
the thought of skin,
of knowing hands
and lustrous hair
that falls and frames
me, as we kiss,
your softness,
touching barely
not a tease
a brush with love
I like each one
inside, to roam,
a palate's dream
bathed lovingly
with time a distant thought.
Yes, please, I ask,
replenish you to me,
there's always more,
you say, and all for me,
'twas natural from then,
the day we knew
you nurse me well.
The morning's Dew
prepared to please
a taste of bliss
Six equals two.
The wrath of grapes
attempts to stir,
to sabotage
the peace
and ambience
of a lover's night.
It fails,
there must be words,
barrage deletes collage
though he is still,
and listens to her voice
as true love will.
New glitches come,
brought in by gnomes,
and angry gremlins
from a lazy past,
they penetrate
the open mind
and settle deep within
to take the reins
and throttle mares
and mustangs
slyly from behind.
They must prevail,
no glass will live
through times
of meteoric storms,
yet those that are,
have mustered it,
blessed by
and now consumed
by the profundity
of genuine love,
they will emerge,
still wet
from skirmishes
of fragrances inhaled,
and tastes beheld,
of melting with
the core of two
to fuse,
and form a bond
not to be torn
by careless hands.
Herbert Nehrlich
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