Erhard Hans Josef Lang

Rookie - 171 Points (January 8,1957 / Günzburg/Danube Germany)

Light Night Breeze To One Who Calls Himself A Friend - Poem by Erhard Hans Josef Lang

My erratic son, why were we going down?
Better to always watch out for safety passages
in time with the joints' key holder,
and most especially so,

when busied in the go-down haul
by nightfall yet;
suddenly one might find
oneself stuck in the dark
shut up there until sun up.

Once at night on the other side of life
they're all but night revellers, at the very best.

And under pink canopies of
star-lit human amusing
we're surging higher & higher

Way out of reach & way out of ear-shot;
once trapped in despair at night,
there it is for the one to
remain locked away
overnight
until a new morn will dawn.

Where in the world are seen
such amusing stars of the
night, yet to be caring about
the forlorn & cast away,

who in their very
awkwardness only were but
hostile elements
for us the free, who need
to get out after dark,
to fill up the emptied vessel
of the soul
in our well-deserved times-out?

Stifled & betrifled,
the torpid victim of the
night may only pray for the
spirit of the brave & wise to
come down on him,
so not as to get even more
miserable entrapped by night
yet being entangled
in heart-rending nightmares
with the wits lost already.

One black glimpse from the
eye of a depressed
desperate
forlorn in the night
emits such a negative
magnetism
that can be sending a knock-out
blow to all fire of life
within any of us
out there on the bright side
of the night
in the blue light of our moon
that is blooming with lush desires.

And don't petty yourself for
being left unconsidered,
caveman son of egotism in
your pitch-black night lair,
when you yourself have
counted yourself out
from all brightening star
tracks that lead us in joy
through the night;
you had been out of time
with all the others
who know to inform
themselves well during the day.

Take this dark lesson of
yours now as a ready-made
chance of your night
to make a better man out of you,
as there's nothing more for
you to do on this field of
yours turned barren
besides waiting and waiting
at this turn
for a new season to come around
when once again it will be
also the season of all
blunderers for sowing their
seed of new life,
and for brooding total re-make.

And believe me, my fallen son,
locked up there in the go-down:
try and help one cramped
soul out of its hole
while yourself being in for a
high in the night,
and the coarse winds from
off the speeches of this
sorry one
verily might blast all your so
passionately concerted
endeavors at once,
in one saddened moment.

It's a sheer waste of one's
self
to keep on hoping on
once already somewhere
having become a goner;
better yet to be hopping on
onto another,
for there to hope & hope on.
This time around, be
smarter, ill-guided son,
make sure, no more to
make for the party's goner!


Comments about Light Night Breeze To One Who Calls Himself A Friend by Erhard Hans Josef Lang

  • (6/23/2006 6:02:00 AM)

    And don't petty yourself for
    being left unconsidered,
    caveman son of egotism in
    your pitch-black night lair,

    i loved these lines...its beautiful...the poem is very good but very long...took me a long time to read and understand it...since your poems need a lot of deep reading... can you limit the length?
    (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 14, 2006



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