Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

The Postage Stamp

Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

A postage stamp, handsome and male
in a drawer, was fast growing stale.
When two fingers reached in
took him out of the tin,
he was shaking and looked rather pale.

Now two lips and a tongue from above
smacked right down on him – was this love? -
and before he stuck
he considered his luck
but was grabbed by a hand, dressed in glove.

Well – the kiss had intoxicated
his being, all flat and serrated.
So he puckered his lip
BUT was sent on a trip.
Thus the end turned out rather ill-fated.

And you wonder whether it’s true
that your fate always gives you a clue?
It’s the pleasures you miss
if you wait for the kiss
and the aftereffect
of the glue.

Comments about The Postage Stamp by Herbert Nehrlich

  • Rich Hanson (2/13/2005 9:46:00 AM)

    I enjoyed the unique perspective on this one(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • knot Available (10/29/2004 8:37:00 PM)

    Cool poem...creative way to sing the same ole' song.(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 2 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: kiss, fate

Poem Submitted: Friday, October 29, 2004