Shers.In » Herbert Nehrlich

A Brilliant Poet

Shivani Kapoor — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 01:21:55 +0000

He Suffered From A Phlebolith,
A Rather Nasty Fusion,
A Gray And Stringy, Foamy Pith
It Caused A Great Delusion.
He Thought He Was A Gifted Boy
But To His Consternation
The Only Person To Enjoy
His Immature Narration
Was Mother Who, Between Tv,
Soap Operas And Springer
Read All His So-Called Poetry
And Raised Her Ladyfinger:
My Son, The Poet, Bless Him God
Some Day Will Have The Masses
Come Running Just To Hear His Odd….
And Sit There, On Their Asses.
In Awe They’ll Be, And Rightfully,
Such Talent, Such Devotion!
I Think That I May Go And Pee
Into The Southern Ocean

Where Have All The

Shivani Kapoor — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 16:02:23 +0000

Where Have All The Flowers Gone,Where Have All The Flowers Gone,
Tulips Grinning,
Where Has Toymir Led Me On
Through His Staffing?
When Will Flowers Look At Us
Shyly Reaching
Take Them With Us On The Bus
Always Teaching.
Where Have All The Good Guys Gone
Handsome, Bright And Full Of Love
Don’t Ask Me, I Don’t Know,
Don’t Ask Me Evermore.

Sick Of This Place

Shivani Kapoor — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 16:00:49 +0000

It Would Be, I Knew, A Frosty Day,
The Milkman Grunted His Usual
And Always Hasty As A Buzzing Fly
Greeting To Me, Scruffy Fellow He Is,
Told Him Again That Glass Bottles,
In This Day And Age, Will Not Do,
Lose The Riboflavin In The Milk,
Even With The Pissy Little Sun We Have
Here In The Land Of Schopenhauer.
Nineteen Fifty They Found This,
Today You See Angular Cheilitis,
Seborrheic Dermatitis And Thrush
Everywhere, Don’t These So Called
Decisionmakers Care At All?
Diesel Is Up Again And Rolf Is Right,
It’s Time To Get A Furnace So They Will,
With No Questions Asked Sell Me Oil,
Half Price Will Surely Help With The Beer,
Weekends Must Be Properly Observed.
Streetcar My Foot, Easy For A Pollie
To Say One Thing And Practice Another,
I Will Be Independent I Told Them,
Though Pension Officers Don’t Have A Heart,
Or A Soul, Just Egg Stains On Their Ties
And Coffee Suds In Their Paper Cups,
Whatever Happened To The Good Old Days,
When The Snow Was White And The Bread,
Yes The Good German Bread Was Dark,
And Warm On The Shelves, At One Mark,
Maybe One Ten A Loaf Of 1.2 Kilo, With Crust
And Wrapped In Paper, Not Plastic Made From
Discarded Tires Or Rubber Boots, At A Cost,
Yes They Are Charging For The Goddam Bags Now,
Bring Your Own They Say Or Else, That’s Eerily
Very Eerily Close To Saying Take The Tram, Boy!
I’m Thinking Of Leaving This Land, It’s Too Cold,
Too Crowded And Too Hectic, Maybe Brazil,
Though They Said In National Geographic,
Yes I Know, But It Was At The Library, Anyway
Unstable Government And Then The Language,
They Might Just Laugh At Me, Linguist Is,
Most Likely, No Guarantee.Canada Is Old Hat,
Stetson They Call Them I Believe, Cold As Well.
America, So Says The Butcher, Is Going Down,
Won’t Be A Major Power After The Chinese,
The Yellow Peril The Yanks Call Them, But You
Or I Can’t Say This Nowadays, No I Wouldn’t,
Can You Imagine Trying To Write That Lingo?
More Like Crayon Drawings, Also They May Not,
Probably Will Not Keep The Peace With The Rest,
The Other Countries, Comes Down To Envy,
And To Ambition. These Asians, You Gotta,
No Doubt, Gotta Give Them That, They Got Drive!
Colleague Says Bertelsmann Has A New Book Out,
Explains It All, Preview Clearly Favours The Tropics,
Which Means, Are You Ready, Australia, Well,
I Did See Crocodile Dundee, Or Dundy,
Good Show Though Part Two Wasn’t Up To Snuff.
They Got Razorbacks There, In The Outback,
Big As Hippos, Will Tear Down Your House,
Slice You First From Crotch To Chin And Then
Eat You, Boots And All, Gotta See That, Best,
So Says Frank, To Take A Guide At First, Pay
Is In Beer, They Drink It Ice Cold As Well,
Got Refrigeration Everywhere, In The Outback,
No Water But Plenty Of Beer, Ladies Called Sheilas.
And The Black Fellows Are Now Tolerated,
They Throw A Mean Boomerang If You Don’t,
Kangaroos And Koalas, Then They Got Wombats
And On The Coast You’d Be Wary Of The Crocs,
Saw That Steve Irwin Show, Poor Fellow, Died
In Such A Crazy Way, Knew It Would Get Him,
Took Chances Like A Crazy Englishman.
Well, Here I Am Now, Getting All Warmed Up,
At A Miserable 7 Degrees, And Wet Streets,
And Guess What, There It Is, The Book, Do You,
Would You Believe My Eyes, Man, What Luck,
It’s Like God Himself Speaking To Me, Reinhard,
You Must Go, It’s A Sign From The One Who Did,
Who Created That Place Down Under They Call It,
Auswandern – Ein Traum, No It Is No Dream, Sir,
Yes I Will Take A Plastic Bag If It Is Still Free,
Bookclub I Will Pass This Time, Really, Let Me,
In All Confidence, Tell You A Little Secret, Sir,
I Won’t Be Here Long Enough To Use The Privileges,
No Bookclub In Europe For Me, Ever Again!
Good Day Sir!

On Potery

Shivani Kapoor — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 15:58:46 +0000

A Site That Features Poetry
Is Heaven To The Poet,
The Owl Lives In A Hollow Tree
Only The Mice Don’t Know It.
So If The Owl Would Just Recite
A Poem Now And Then,
And In Between Swoop For A Bite
I’d Take My Trusted Pen
And Write About The Owl As Well
As Of The Mice And Vermin,
How Squirrels Open Up A Shell
I’d Give You A Big Sermon.
But Most Of All I’d Use The Time
To Sort The Words, Dear Friends,
So You Will Listen To The Rhyme
And Like It (It Depends) ,
I Think The Arts Are Better Still
Than All The Science Matters
Though Life Itself, For Poets Will
Quite Often Be In Tatters.

Grandma’s Accident

Shivani Kapoor — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 15:57:45 +0000

What Ruckus Could It Be I Said,
Like Cans And Glass In Disarray,
The Sounds Of Hooves (It’s Mister Ed?)
Or Ghosts From Space That Came To Play.
Inside The Pantry It Was Still
As If All Sounds Had Ceased To Be,
Poor Grandma, Always On A Pill
Her Body Lifeless, Pale And Free.

Colours

Shivani Kapoor — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 15:57:03 +0000

There Once Was A Boy With Three Ears,
He Was White And Well Known To His Peers.
To The South Side Of Town
Where The Pigment Was Brown..
They Could Care But A Lady Brought Shears.
It Turned Out That All Manners Of Style
Got The Better Of Folks And Their Bile.
Never Mind The Third Ear
It Is Colour We Fear
Said The One They Called Homophile.
But The Horses, He Said, Do The Same!
It Is Not The Old Mare That Is Lame
But The Gelding That’s Gray
Whom We Chased Far Away
There Is Nothing We’d Look At As Shame.
Just This Morning I Saw A Small Lad,
He Was Wearing A Pirate’s Eye Pad.
But His Smile Touched My Soul
Eyes Like Hot Burning Coal,
I Will Save Him Or Surely Go Mad.

Passing Over

Shivani Kapoor — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 12:38:14 +0000

She Was Feisty, This Nurse And She Handed To Him
A Small Handfull Of Yellow-Green Pills,
He Was Pale In The Face And His Build Was Too Slim
And They Had Not Found All Of His Ills.
Late That Night She Was Found Undercover And Nude
They Were Moving Like Locusts In Clover.
It Was Great For A While, Then This Fortunate Dude
Rolled His Eyes Up And Quickly Passed Over.

Intermediate On Jerry H.- Ostbf

Shivani Kapoor — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 12:32:36 +0000

It Came, Of Course, Why Would It Not
Down To The Wire As The Pundits Say,
Behind The Break A Bit Of Fleshy Rot
Which Must Be Flushed And Spirited Away.
The Leg Is Coming Good, I See It From Afar,
And Energy Is Just Around The Closest Bend
Some Day, My Trusted Friend You’ll See The Bar
From The Inside, And There Will Be A Precious Blend.
I Know You Cannot Stand The Patience Devil, No
We Are Not Made To Hand Our Dignity To Those
Who Do Their Best But At A Cost For Every Silly Pro
Fret Not, My Mate, You’ll Look Soon Down Your Nose
At All The Doubters And The Weak Ones, Mark My Word,
As Time Goes By You Count The Days Until It Comes
You See The Feathers Of A Cute Familiar Bird
Your March Begins, You’re Going Home. You Hear The Drums?
Behave Yourself And Rest To Gain New Strength
Partake Of Morsels That Your Better Half Brings In
You Might Forget And Never Really Feel The Length
Of All Those Weeks Until You Wear Again Your Grin.