(04 October 1943 / Germany)

Beetle Crap

A beetle shat upon my eye,
while I was sleeping soundly
beneath my favourite willow tree
it was an act of love.

A blink did free the greenish putty
and as he looked at me
the memories came flooding back
I closed them now to see.

Was he a friend although he shat
upon my saddend face
perhaps a messenger for me
who had been rather blunt.

I must escape, into free sleep
it beats the firewater
there is a world where harmony
and pax vobiscum reign.

The beetle flies back to his nest
in my own willow tree
and all her leaves look down on me
but none with any scorn.

I stay here 'til the sun goes home
and all the cows head east
the beetle takes his second shit
that's when I say Good bye.

Back down in dreams the memories
come floating like mad bats
to let me know I can be free
but not in chains for two.

The dew from my own willow tree
rains down on my creased face
refreshes me, revives my soul
it is my only home.

So, please ye Gods, can I grow roots
become one just the same
I do not mind the beetle crap
I do not mind the shame.

User Rating: 2,3 / 5 ( 7 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

I enjoyed this...very mellow :)
well, I did enjoy Allans comment, so true. Strange piece Herbert, but I liked the ending.
i am not sure whether this was supposed to be funny but it made me laugh.
Such tender, sharp observation of nature...Newton had it easy compared. And I love the deep Freudian subtext to the autobiography. Today your pillowslip is not showing.