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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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393.
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Your Account Sir
A clap of thunder, oh so timely
reminds me of those problems unresolved
though shaking I was not
inside my muddy boots.
Damn right I am still standing,
and will remain so for the time
it takes to execute the next,
perhaps a devastating one,
this strike of lightning, which appears
to be the maestro of the orchestra.
Who then, I ask, might be the players,
will I be spared by joining from afar?
I multiply that figure by the seconds
and when thunder comes it may be late
too late to gain immunity from all.
The only question still remaining
is the one I will not even ask,
if I am struck what will it be for me,
and in the end, who might be watching.
Herbert Nehrlich
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394.
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Your Tears
They were, though I was never sure
tears of deep mysteries,
like slow, lethargic geysers
they arose from deep within,
where little chambers
draped with velvet doors
are filled with thoughts
and smiles of yesterday.
At first it startled me
when drops fell on my chest,
the naked skin
that you had kissed
and with your lovely hands
caressed again,
I held your other hand
and felt a need to hold
perhaps to cradle you
to shield you from such pain.
But soon, I knew,
rejoiced and squeezed
your twins,
as if to say
WE are okay, my LOVE.
And in that night
I would have let you cry
until the morning broke,
collecting all your tears
and waiting patiently
for you to turn to me
and smile your lovely smile.
Then we could kiss
and taste the salt
which is the essence
of ourselves
and let our tongues enjoy
a tκte-ΰ-tκte
and all be well.
Herbert Nehrlich
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395.
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......Of GOLD?
I was not looking when you found me
you stopped just long enough to smile.
I felt your presence all around me
and hoped that you would stay awhile.
You hurried on - you had your reason
and faded slowly in the light,
'twas hot, the highest summer season:
And then you turned - I'd hoped you might.
You flashed a brief but lovely look,
it made me feel quite weird.
Then silly me 'What if she took
offense at my gray beard? '
Then you were gone, the sun left with you,
the night air came with sudden force.
And to this day I often miss you
when you are not at home, of course.
What is she like, I wondered then,
what does she value and adore?
Would she expect to see in men
some muscles, brains and looks and more?
And when I left, went down the road
I had her on my mind.
I thought I recognised the coat
or was I going blind?
And near an oak tree she was resting,
I knew not what to think
and thought that someone must be testing
to drive me to the brink.
The rest you know, my lovely sweet:
It's just as you had told.
You wanted one that didn't just beat,
you needed one of gold.
And may I burn in hot damnation
for being so conceited.
But here I am - on this occasion
I must not be defeated!
'I have one, although it is old',
I shouted loud into your ear,
'It beats okay - it's made of gold! '
And YOU CAME CLOSE TO HEAR!
The little secret -now revealed
is that I slaved and polished
this drum that was just MOSTLY gold.
The flaws are now abolished.
And that was only the beginning.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: summer poems, tree poems, smile poems, home poems, sun poems, light poems, night poems, hope poems
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396.
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....Und Lache, Lache, Lache
Man wird im Leben of verkohlt,
das kommt von der Natur.
Wir Alten werden ueberholt
man schickt uns noch zur Kur.
Die Zeit verfliegt, man merkt es kaum
das Jungvolk waechst heran,
man reist zur Kindheit, nur im Traum,
wacht auf als alter Mann.
Sie beissen sich die Zaehne aus
(wir haben kaum noch welche) ,
und spaeter dann, beim Leichenschmaus
da leer'n sie uns're Kelche.
Wir sterben gern, so sagt man uns,
weg mit dem alten Eisen,
der neue Mensch, als Hinz und Kunz
spuckt aus vor alten Greisen.
Die Welt gehoert dem Dollarschein,
der Mensch ist Nebensache
ich trinke heimlich teuren Wein
und lache, lache, lache.
Herbert Nehrlich
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