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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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293.
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No Need To Fret
In the twilight of the morning
before the razor woke itself,
I dreamed that all of us,
with no exception, were searching
only for the heart of heart,
that was still growing in our chests.
I'll call her Mary, and she possesses it,
this heart of heart. I only wonder now
if knowing one will be sufficient
to save and nurture fully what is known
only to me as my most valuable,
also sacred of possessions.
But does this entity protect itself
by placing armour skilfully around
its sphere of sheer humanity,
and godliness. No need to fret.
Herbert Nehrlich
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294.
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No Oil (Limerick)
As the Yanks conquer foreign soil
all the tension rise up to a boil.
Let democracy reign
in Andorra and Spain,
and the Arabs can drink all their oil.
We are now on the brink, mark my words,
to fly airplanes and cars just like birds.
An old Kraut has unveiled
that the oilmen have failed,
we can run all our engines on turds.
Herbert Nehrlich
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295.
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Nouveau Riche
You say where there is smoke there must be fire
while pointing at the mansion I now own,
no man will stand here calling me a liar
a blackmailer, and crook, who's rotten to the bone.
I earned this money working in the ditches
and pumping poo from septic tanks each day,
a life of toil and forty years to riches
I'm seventy and old enough to play.
Not one dull dollar has been dropped into my lap
I've paid my taxes on the interest in the bank,
no lousy copper comes in here to pin the rap
onto my hide, and who am I to thank?
You say my Rolls and all the other motorcars
are not legit and that I do not have good papers,
and that my passport photo does not show those scars
inflicted years ago in the Mauritius Capers.
I can see clearly that you are a great detective,
and if the file you have in front of you is me
you'd surely think that I, yours truly am defective,
you want my papers to make certain I won't flee.
I do admit to it, but do me one small favour:
Stand very still right where you are and close your eyes,
I want to give a smallish taste, of proper flavour,
it is a Glock, and you may say all your good-byes.
Herbert Nehrlich
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296.
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Nudist Camp
' Come', said Gitta (that's my niece) ,
' let's go down to the nudist camp',
as I was looking at the crease
that I had ironed into damp
and quite expensive, dark-blue trousers.
'just leave those civil clothes behind, '
I thought that nudists are arousers,
with sex and mayhem on their mind.
I tried to find a thrifty reason,
but she insisted she knew why,
I said it was late in the season
and that I really was not shy.
But in the end I tagged along,
right at the entrance stood a giant,
with what I'd call an equine schlong.
I tried once more to be defiant.
And then we stripped, went off to mingle
with others of the same persuasion,
most here were couples, but a single,
midlifish fellow, who looked Asian,
came up and introduced his body,
which was astonishingly stout.
He offered us a Saki Toddy
and said he was an Astronaut.
Strapped in the capsule, as they are
for many hours, he would miss
the comforts of the ground (so far) ,
it bugged him when he had to piss.
Inside the spacecraft it was hell,
that's why he was truly inclined
to free himself, out of his shell
(and show to others his behind) .
We made the rounds and I was staring
at parts I did not often see,
thereby forgetting I was baring
my own equipment (not with glee) ,
and when we left the Nudist Haven,
the morning man had been replaced
by the most stunning, black as Raven
voluptuous beauty, who was based
right on the premises, residing
in a small hut of cedar planks.
I saw no further grounds in hiding
my gratitude, so I said 'thanks'
to Gitta, and 'wait just a minute',
and Raven signed me 'til September,
and I was happy to be in it,
a full-fledged Nudist Haven member.
Herbert Nehrlich
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