Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

Whose Bloody Business?

Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Logic said.
I was to follow my head.
Not my heart or
the whispers
of little old witches.
My brain said
that it had all the facts
at disposal.
And, that its job was to think.

My heart was more timid,
so it accepted that it was
to beat only,
and to mind its
own bloody business.

Yet, at night sometimes,
my heart cried,
tiny tears of blood,
which were real
but didn't attract any stares.
And my heart realised
that its priorities were
different from those of the brain.
And that there was no one to judge.

So, it turned out
as it always does,
when the crossroads
appear out of nowhere.
You choose with your head,
laughing about it
as you step right into it.

And, across the miles
and years of fulfilled expectations,
you notice, one night,
and it wakes you
from your righteous sleep:
A rumble.
And with ears hardened by pain,
ears that stifle a yawn,
you listen at last.

And only your heart can tell you
if there is still time.

Comments about Whose Bloody Business? by Herbert Nehrlich

  • Herbert Nehrlich1 (11/26/2004 4:57:00 AM)

    Allan: You have two of them in your first name, two in the surname. I assume it stands for LOVE.
    Or, are you asking me again?
    Someone asked me about PVC's and other heart problems, I guess that is the reality of poetry.(Report)Reply

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  • Allan James Saywell (11/26/2004 4:39:00 AM)

    Herbert, who is L you were travelling on that big journey, you hit a pothole
    then L you love the old english, just like me, the language that is
    Thank you herbert
    regard's allan(Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: sometimes, heart, sleep, pain, night

Poem Submitted: Friday, November 26, 2004

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 17, 2010