Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

Roaches That Stab - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

People come into our lives,
smiling, nodding, How are you?
They stay for a bit, smiling, nodding.
They eat off your table,
they use your name,
they smile, nod and say:
How are you?
Then, one day, after
they have eaten your food,
smelled your roses,
finished your Beaujolais
and slept on your pillow
they wait, until it's midnight.
And then, they stab you in the back.
Again, and again, and again.

And, if asked the obvious question,
WHY? The will say, after some
initial hesitation............
NOTHING. That is, my dear friends,
because they have run.
Run to hide in Texas.
In a burrow, where only cowards,
cockroaches and evil spirits hide.
And that is, of course, sadly,
where they belong.
Because they do not have
what makes a normal human being.
Never will have.


Comments about Roaches That Stab by Herbert Nehrlich

  • (2/6/2005 3:43:00 PM)


    RC, there are no 'disfunctional bachelors' (sic) at this end.
    Just frustrated, well-adjusted family men.
    Perhaps that's what bugs certain individuals...
    H
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  • (2/6/2005 3:39:00 PM)


    Thanks Allan, just to add to this: Let them dig. What they will get out of that is two things, one is a bad back combined with a frustrated brain (no big thing because theirs would be no big thing) and it is always possible that she who digs will fall into the hole.
    Don't you just LOVE cowards?
    H
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 2:14:00 PM)


    Herbert there is a lot of people who call themselves BRUTUS you get a little bit of success, and they come out of the woodwork, with there shiny knives
    waving there bibles and there university degree, digging into your past
    they become god, able to fogive sins, try to piss on you
    they wouldn't have a clue what life is about or poetry for that matter
    just carry on with your poetry Herbert, it is called freedom of speech
    they have nothing better to do

    Warm Regards

    ALLAN JAMES SAYWELL
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 1:49:00 PM)


    is everyone here a disfunctional bachelor? and here I was thinking H was a well adjusted family man- oh the loss of innocence (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 7:59:00 AM)


    Sorry to hear that, Herbert. Name and shame? You owe it to (her?) next potential victim...meanwhile, have a good day on the beach and don't forget your
    sin-goggles.
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 7:53:00 AM)


    Sounds like you came across an absolute stinker H, I like to believe that most people are good at heart, it's always a sad disappointment to be proved wrong. Good poem. (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 7:11:00 AM)


    Thank you Christine. You are such a lovely girl, I am sorry you even had to read about things like this.
    When I read your poems the world becomes a nice place again.
    Truly.
    H
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 6:51:00 AM)


    I like the way you are so direct in portraying your feelings of such anger and hurt. I'm sorry you have been used and abused in this way and all too many will identify. Certainly I do.

    Chrissie
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 6:39:00 AM)


    Thank you Michael, for taking the time.
    However, you do not know the extent of this 'situation'.
    It is not a matter of reaping what one has thrown among the people.
    In this case, a member of P/H fell for a slanderous remark originating from an unknown source.
    Even when she realised her mistake, she did not come to own up and clear the air.
    On the contrary, she went into hiding.
    This is what roaches do, although I may be giving more credit where it is not due.
    They say that roaches do have intelligence.
    H
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 6:34:00 AM)


    Thank you Sandra. The interesting thing is that these roaches usually do NOT know about the real world.
    That real, genuine people will come after roaches and crush them.
    In a small way it will be fun.
    H
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 6:34:00 AM)


    Judging from the postings on this site, an appreciable percentage of the world's population has one secret crime in common - they have dumped (on) a member of Poemhunter...
    Perhaps this is because we as poets wear our hearts on our ink-stained sleeves, and are obvious targets for those who wish to steal our universal (non-religiously-affiliated, anti-fundamentalist, note) compassion; our welcoming tolerance; our ceaseless fountain of love... we got it, they want it...
    Post-modern irony? Me, I'm a magnet for every conman, leech, gipsy ('You've got a kind face, sir...' 'Eff off...') within reach.
    But then, Herbert, you do advertise your enthusiasms...!
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2005 6:21:00 AM)


    Well, the anger and hurt really comes out. Hope to see some happier lines soon. Take care, I'm so sorry this happened. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: food, evil, smile, people, running, sleep, rose, friend



Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 6, 2005



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