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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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369.
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We
I have not asked in many years
though all my friends and learned peers
pick willy-nilly so it seems
a Valentine straight from their dreams.
Of course, good etiquette demands
that those who've claimed another's hands
be on the list for chocolates
and maybe for some other bits
a Beaujolais, Valpolicella
the onus is on the good fella
and shops stay open to fulfill
big wishes and to stuff the till.
It seems that one declares his pick
it's just like putting one's small tick
to activate computerware
and BINGO, says the card 'I Care',
it has become a bland routine
but is essential in the scene.
I will, this year take an old feather,
of goose, though still uncertain whether
the one whose LOVE is my great hope
will want me writing, I'm a dope
and often feel a trifle timid
instead of going for the limit.
Well, I shall write from my own heart
some words will lift me, others smart,
and, in the end she'll understand
that she can have my sweaty hand
and if she wants, the rest of me
which would confirm the promise WE.
Herbert Nehrlich
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370.
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We Are Waging A Nuclear War As We Speak
They send them still to foreign lands,
with blessings of the folks who stay;
uplifting this, that wave of hands
the faithful citizens will pray.
Yes, once there was a time of need
when barons, filled with utter lust,
would mount their threatening stampede
to smash all living things to dust.
Defend thyself, says the good book,
it also mentions eye for eye
it's man whose reason undertook
to see the other fellow die.
Americans, you've got it made
your birthright by the Gods bestowed.
While Texas slumbers in the shade
you all have been severely snowed.
Have you, my Yankee friends been told
about the chemical D U?
Uranium has been cheaply sold
to field commanders leading you.
Oh no, you say, we must protect
our way of life, our profit margin!
Grossly obese, we stand erect,
prevent the enemy from barging
through borders fought for by our kin
and rape our women, cut our men,
with God and righteousness we'll win
destroy mankind's carcinogen.
We lose our boys on foreign soil
'Beware', the devil brags,
we smell the fragrance of cheap oil
and count the bodybags.
Unmatched today is Yankee Might,
we could just flip a switch
and set their very core alight
it's simply privilege!
How many bombs would be enough
to level desert regions?
The mushroom cloud would make it tough
yet we could pledge allegiance.
The children and the innocent
is what must guide our action,
God-fearing men who represent
humanity's top fraction,
we would not lose a single life
by playing carpetbomber,
and not again would any wife
sit down with an embalmer.
Well, let me tell you, son of sheep,
you have been sleeping soundly,
THEY had no promises to keep
but I condemn YOU, roundly.
Atomic warfare has been on
for just on sixteen years,
our nation's innocence long gone
among a sea of fears.
It's not enough to shower those
who do not dance your tune,
in Hollywood you too can pose
with hero Daniel Boon.
Uranium dust, you scatter it
among the ruins and castles,
your soldiers do inhale the shit
they say it ain't no hassle.
Make babies with a single eye
and tumours and leukemia,
condemn the families who cry
succumbing to toxemia.
DEPLETED means the stuff is weak
and will not be sufficient
to cause the sperm to spawn a freak,
meanwhile you are commisssioned
to carry out with heavy pride
all that your land requires,
dumb, on a rollercoaster ride
until all life expires.
Uranium will yet kill us all,
it's what your kind is gifting
to generations soon to fall
while toxic clouds are drifting.
Herbert Nehrlich
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371.
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Weinstein
He handed over
to the brown uniform
his card that said
Weinstein, David.
A non-descript
and little man,
short-sighted
like so many,
dishevelled beard,
black suit and socks
that ugly hat
and clever face.
Somehow he had not made
it onto Schindler's List,
but rumours were
that Buchenwald was kind,
plenty of skills demanded
fresh air, the same that Luther,
so many moons ago, had breathed.
He did have assets, too
sixteen full fillings,
all pure gold.
A Swiss accordion
and fiddle made in Klingenthal.
They did appreciate it all,
and when he went into the showers
to refresh and be reborn
the commandant and friends
had Asbach Uralt, neat,
in celebration of a world
that had now reached the final summit
and would remain in God's own place
until the Devil donned the emperor's own clothes.
Herbert Nehrlich
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372.
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Well, Ain't It True?
All skies are endless,
oceans deep
and we have promises to keep.
My beach umbrella
ain't for fools.
I say this fella sticks with pools.
Don't trust ye gods
they have been paid.
I don't need angels to get laid.
Herbert Nehrlich
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