Herbert Nehrlich Poems

Lacking genetics, empty her head,
age bringing changes without any grace,
dinner for one and alone in her bed
lifting the flabbies, also the face.
...

Advent, Advent, es brennt ein Licht
im Bettchen schlaeft der kleine Wicht.
Der Weihnachtsmann kommt kurz vorbei
nach Mitternacht, so gegen zwei.
...

To the children, I note, with alarm
that this year we will miss all his charm.
Seems that Santa is ill
and this Christmas he will
...

As if a man of mettle
had kissed the Mother Earth
and that each velvet petal
remembered still its birth.
...

So is it honour?
An echo coming back now,
for me to answer.
...

An earwig who had found his way
into an ear, was there to stay.
He ate the hair and all the wax
then settled back, just to relax.
...

It was his eightieth,
they let him out
of solitary.
Nowhere to go.
...

To heal the sick he said, the lord's ways are mysterious.
And off he went without my personal donation.
The papers couldn't print it soon enough, the healings,
and what a wonderful true servant of the Lord.
...

A cook stood in the kitchen
and stirred Hungarian Stew.
His wife was always bitchin'
that's all this marriage knew.
...

And not a single blueberry
was left among the leaves,
the more he searched the place
the louder was the sound of
...