Best German Poems
The German Christmas market was in town
Stalls emptying fast and looking quite bare
Last minute shopping before it closed down
T'was Christmas eve seems everyone was there .
A cold wind blew with flakes of snow falling
Kids in the square, carols they were singing
In the distance the church bells were ringing
On market stalls the lights they were twinkling.
The tree in the square with a star so bright
Folks drinking mulled wine to keep out the chill
The Oompah band were playing silent night
And everywhere smiles, laughter and good will.
T'would be wonderful if all this good cheer
Was every day and not just once a year.
Written 26th November 2019.
My Two German Beaux,On a TVCooking Show
Oh, how I love sauerbraten
and that divine apple strudel!
But it was even better to see
Guy Fieri with my two old German
Chicago beaux on his TV show!
Why, I nearly lost my noodle!
There they were,still very comely,
on the cooking channel.
Making a great German dinner
Why,I almost knocked my German
beer stein off the mantle!
I was thinking back to times in
Chicago of soccer games and
festive Deutsch holidays!
When we danced like their was
no tomorrow.
Who ever dreamed time would
pass so fast!
I felt like Alice in Wonderland
peering through a magical,
looking glass.
When I was young, never once
believing time would pass!
11-3-2019
Dedicated to Peter A, in Chicago,
who was the inspiration for this
work! Danke, my friend.
The grandfather on my mother's side was a cheapskate.
A real cheapskate.
One Christmas, he gave me a used paperback book.
Something like “Jimmy Plays Baseball.”
It was written for a 7 year old child, and I was considerably older than that.
Still had “5 cents” written in pencil on the first page.
No foolin'.
Asked he, “You ever read that one?”
Replied I, “No granddad. Can’t say I have. Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas.”
I hated going to visit them.
In the row house in Baltimore city, where my mother grew up.
(‘Balmer.’ ‘Balmer, Merilan.' “How you doin’ hon?”)
Me and my sister sitting on the wood floor in the living room.
Positioned dead eyed to the manger on the mantle.
Given board games to occupy our time.
My father loved talking to him, Leo, Leo Groeninger.
Because he was brilliant.
And he knew everything about everything.
A sedentary encyclopedia on the spectrum.
His second wife sitting dutifully next to him on the couch.
My mother sitting in a chair, the only one left in the living room.
“Maybe you kids would like to play checkers, or Parcheesi.”
But he had one saving grace:
His German potato salad.
The real thing.
Made with ham fat.
Five pounds of ham fat.
Or bacon, if you didn't have any ham fat.
Damn that stuff was good!
Here's to Reiner our 'Hero in chains' a true International.'
Who deserves stromg acclaim.' After fourty five hearings
Where the judges must be; 'mud' blind? And even deaf, perhaps?
It must be a 'record of kinds' charged yet not tried.' And
Now its eighteen months in!! Often chained hands and
Feet.? Where oh where should i begin? At the at the doctorate of law? The man gained with aplomb?..Or the
Great concern he holds for German history.' And the way
The world views it; there-in.' Lets me not dwell on old hitler!!
And that grusame time past.' Though I'll gather it shaped
This most decent German.' He maybe desired a better pass? Yet he's let down by current lawfare.' Of which that
Moustached devil would hold dear.' Is this real or imagined? Just the very worst that could up-rear.' I cry a
SHAME ON THE JUDICIARY.! A SHAME ON THEM ALL.!
Who have incarcersted, a shining example, of German
Integrity.' And what is possible for all.' Why do they sheild
The mass woundings.' The truth of dead killed by that clot
Shot.' You are an insulting stench.' Upon your modern history.' Oh by no means will you be forgot.' Yet your time
Will come to take a cell.' Normal Germans will arise! with
You to loose..Thats just what they'll choose.' And face the
World with human pride.'
.
Born American, sixth generation of great-grands all German,
not much liking sausage or sauerkraut, English speaking all the way,
except the Germany of my ancestry was fought over and broken
so I’m a bit of France, Germany, Poland, Hungary all the Holy
Roman empire, dissolved down, fought over, egotized, horrified
and remade Into some new state where English is as common as German.
We share a love of flowers in the face of cold and rain, I drink less beer
and wine, meet up somewhere, anywhere around the world on a beach.
From my parents and grandparents, I know to serve up too much food
seven sweets, seven sours and drink and whirl the night away to a band.
Hardworking sorts, unafraid of a little dirt, loving dirt, the turnover
and young sprout brought to fruit, wearing overalls and then washing up.
To sit before a pressed linen table cloth, served up on the finest china,
the cha in my father’s name, the uff da, and other exclamations.
The morning rosaries, the blessed churches where we give thanks for all good
and the setting aside of pride while we work together to make our food.
Sure there are aprons for cooking. Shorts for summertime. A dive into any pool.
What do I know of being German, not much, it's just somewhere in my roots.
There once was a German Shepherd
Who liked to act like a leopard
He went to get a chicken,
But it went a kickin’
And then they both got peppered.
Black Cat
Seen ahead
crossing from
left to right
brings bad luck
from right to left
brings nothing.
Du Einsame,
in den Bergen getrotzt,
versteckt in den Wolken
getragen vom Geist des Inka,
hochgepriesen,
wie von Geisterhand
überragst du das
zerklüftete Tal des Urubamba.
Stein auf Stein,
gebaut mit großem Geschick,
geboren durch die Kraft
der Inkas.
Zufluchtstätte
der letzten Überlebenden,
verborgen vor den Augen
der Eindringlinge
aus dem so entfernten Spanien,
die Feuer und Tod brachten,
dich aber nie sahen.
Umhüllst dich noch heute
mit nebelgesponnenen Rätseln
wie neugeboren
aus tristem Gestein.
Deine Seele,
lebendig,
strahlt Erhabenes
und über deinen Mauern,
jetzt nur noch Heimstatt
der Götter,
zieht wie einst
der Kondor
seine vibrierenden Kreise.
---------------------------------------
You lonesome,
withstanding
in mountains,
hidden in clouds,
carried by the spirit of Incas,
highly praised,
as from ghostly hands
are you extending beyond
the rugged valley of the Urubamba.
Stone by stone,
built with spectacular craftmansship,
born by the power
of man.
Retreat
of the last survivors,
hidden from the eyes
of the intruders
from far away Spain,
who carried fire and death,
but never saw you.
You cover even today
in foggy-spun mystery
like newly born
from solitude stone.
Your spirit,
living,
radiates nobility
and above your murals
now only home of the Gods,
a condor is drawing as once
his vibrating circles.
------------------------------------------
Sitio solitario,
resistiendo en las montañas
escondido en las nubes
protegido por el espíritu del Inca,
egregio elogiado
como de una mano de fantasma
tu te levantas
sobre el valle hendido del Urubamba.
Piedra por piedra,
construido con gran destreza,
nacido por la fuerza
de los Incas.
Refugio
de últimos sobrevivientes,
escondido antes de los ojos
de invasores
del tan distante España,
que traeron fuego y muerte,
pero nunca te veían.
Te envuelves todavía
con enigmas hiladas por nieblas
como recién nacido
de rocas tristes.
Tu alma viva
brilla altura
y sobre tus murallas,
todavía sitio
de dioses,
gira como antiguamente
el condor
sus circulos vibrantes.
This
unique
ecounter
brings me delight
where astute eyes stare--
It's not the bright gold moon
but something distinct. German
which gives this life its rousing glow
Holding deep connection with seasons
Ever pulsing... my charming, loyal dog
Her warm blush embraces my every beat
inspiring cadence of poetry....
A character of my stories
I am Snicker's. ardent fan.
Naughty she , my dachshund
as we draw life...bold
Playing 'neath stars
Full of mirth
Like a
babe.
Double Etheree
9/20/2014
Plump shiny cooking apples
Stewed –utter delight
cinamon spice, smells so nice
pastry butter kissed
smothered in custard
smack those lips
Yum.
There is a blanket of yellow love.
She wrote to me of it
In an unleavened light letter,
Where my god is your god, and
Sudden drops of bereavement
leave a love nest of hands,
Making certain you knew you were part of the whole,
A vibrant pulsating joy button.
Your hands are there to hold not swat.
"Bread" in German is "Brot."
Baby Ich Liebe Dich so wie du bist,
So perfekt, so wie du mich glucklich machen.
Die Art und weise du mich fuhlen,
Di Art und weise du mich lacheln und lachen.
Auch wenn Ich wu tend bin, trairig oder songar weinen.
Mein Hertz blutet dur dich baby.
Ich Liebe Dich Mein Schatz baby.
Ich kann mir nicht helfer, aber ruhing und glucklich.
Wenn du so wundershon und du liebst mich fur mich.
Ich Liebe Dich fur immer!
Always~N~Forever,
Briana Lynn Palmer
Age:15almost16
Dedicated To:My wonderful and amazing Husband Dustin James Palmer
12-09-11
~Dustin's one & only faithful and loving wife~
I Love You Baby!
I usually work at airports
Checking for things people snort
As well as the wacky weed they smoke
Last week I caught an English bloke
Trying to smuggle ganja and some "coke"
I sniffed him out before he even boarded the plane
Sometimes I wonder if that bloke was insane
And the week before that
I caught a lady with some "pot" in her hat!
I took this job cause I get a buzz
From sniffing out all those drugs with the fuzz
But yesterday I got so high
I almost let a drug smuggler get by!
.................
for Tanya's "Dog Gone Tales" contest
6/13/2012
A rest stop break and next to us
A group of German folken.
The universal language
Filled with gestures soon was spoken.
Perhaps a food tour? All were
Apron-clad and eating lunch
And drinking wine and laughing
As they'd sip and talk and munch.
My husband shrugged and pointed,
Meaning, What? No food for me?
A laden plate and glass of wine
Were offered instantly.
Our bus mates wandered over
And the party did expand
As giant German pretzels
Found their way to every hand.
You just need one brave soul to cross
The line and break the ice.
The payoff may be food or smiles
But either way, it's nice.
P.S. To keep the record straight,
Both licorice and hazelnut
Gelato found their happy way
Into the pathways of my gut!
Zwischen den Seerosen
Herüber tönend vom nahen Teich
Der laute Ruf der Frösche
---------------------------------------
Between water-lilies
Resounding from a near pond
Sononorous calls of frogs
---------------------------------------
Entre los nenúfares
Suenan del estanque cercano
Fuertes gritos de ranas