Fresh fish and poor friends grew soon ill far'd.
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That Poor Defencless Fish
that poor defenceless fish,
caught a haft hour ago.
they chopped off his head,
and cut through his guts.
just think for a minute,
just a uick minute.
how does that poor fish feel? how would you like it?
that poor defenceless fish,
his last thoughts,
lord, have mercy on my soul,
or just get it over with.
i feel bad for that fish,
that poor little fish.
and thats the story,
of the poor defenceless fish
poem by Tamera Swafford

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some things that can happen with a fish
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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31
A fish that drinks like a fish, that is a fish in excess
A fish that fishes in troubled waters, that is a fish taking advantage of another fish in trouble
A fish that fishes or cuts bait, well, to be or not to be, to retreat or to attack, that is the fishy question
A fish that is neither fish nor fowl, is a fish that is neither one nor the other, lacking some convictions
A fish out of water, is a fish feeling left out, no longer in his accustomed environment
Do you have other fish to fry for now?
Is there other matter requiring my attention?
Poor fish,
the lake is finally fished out from his fishy mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Tiny Rhyme
Fish oh! fish
swish a miss
wish on hiss
shush to hush
Push push
oh! fish
flush a blush
fresh 'n' mush
Fish oh! fish
slush the gush
slash in gash
splash the plush
Fish oh! fish
pose to posh
rush a mash
fish oh! gosh!
poem by Mubeen Sadhika

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Poor Fish And Raison Pie
Poor Fish and raison pie came my way one day.
Sometimes my poor fish don`t go away
so quickly as eye try to make them
slide into my belly to fill my hungry want.
I found an ice cream melted raison pie.
I could NOT eat it all.
Sometimes I have so many blessings,
I wonder iff there is any left in Heaven.
Poor Shrim: Pe and fish and old potatoes.
Some Jalepnoes and then some more peppers.
Popcorn for later, to make me feel much better.
There is always room for more.
I could NOT eat it all.
I left some raison pie unfinished.
There will always be some more poor fish
and raison pie.
poem by Charles Hice

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Is it really like fishing?
They say there is many fish in the sea to choose from.
But have you ever gone fishing?
They say do not worry they are like fish you lose one then get a fresh one.
But have you actually gone fishing?
They say you can be picky when fishing your fish.
But have you been in the sea and fished?
They even say some actually smell like fish.
But have you really smelled a fish?
They say there is plenty of fish in the sea.
But have you actually gone and counted the fish in the sea?
They say once you catch that perfect fish, you are bound for a good life.
But have you caught that perfect fish they all speak of?
They say some fish can be beautiful.
But have you seen any beautiful fish?
How can one compare a fish?
They are not alike.
How can one say it is as easy as finding a fish?
It is not a simple task.
How can they say there are so many fish in the sea?
When there are so many fishers who have yet to catch.
Can you really compare life and love to a fish?
The answer is of course not.
You can’t.
Impossible.
Unreal.
Not imaginable.
Unbelievable.
Unrealistic.
A fairy tale.
poem by ReubenJames Rodriguez

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Cat Fish
Cat fish play and leap witter-wotter. Over slow yonder. Purple mountains, apple skys, and jam taste like yip. Yap cat fish grew, so fast they licked ripe grass. Lumber slumbers in cat fish numbers. Lovers and muggers fall in deep cat fish reign. Cat fish took a long slumber on there yonder and were eaten by cat fish toddlers. The end!
poem by Shania K. Younce

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Trinculo [sees Caliban]: What have we here? A man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish. He smells like a fish, a very ancient and fish-like smell, a kind of not-of-the-newest poor-john.
line from The Tempest, Act II, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1611)

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Fish of a Different Color
Big fish and small fish
Swimming here in this pond
Fast fish and slow fish
And now one is gone
Poor, foolish fishes
Just make a few stronger
And watch how these fishes
Devour each other
To be the small fish
I'm sure none would bother
But oh, don't you wish
You could make the pond smaller?
I've found my own niche
To live my life fuller
For I am a fish
Of a different color
Darwin's Fish
Darwin had a fish named Very Brighte
‘Twas marked with spots of orange amongst the white
Such a fine example of selective breed'n
'Twould be a shame to see him eat'n.
Charles D., taught this very special fish
To take a walk on a contrivance; called a leash.
On days when weather was good and fair
Brighte was released from his leather snare.
Under trees so green and supple, the two
Frolicked, as only friends could do.
One day they took a different path
As they were deep in thought, discussing math.
They approached a glen so inviting
The fish dictating, Darwin writing.
There in the cooling shade,
A brook's babbling sound was made.
‘Memberances of times in distant past
Thru his brain the pictures flashed.
Caused him (the fish, not Darwin)
To leap right in.
‘Twas here, the poor fish did discover
A truth known to father, mother, sister, brother.
Pollywogs, as well, have found it's true,
One cannot go home to waters, blue.
As he sank into the deep,
Poor Darwin's fish began to weep.
Sink or Swim, he did remember.
But forgot all else, that day in September.
Perhaps he forgot how to swim and drowned.
Yet his body was never found.
But Darwin was convinced that it was evolution,
That brough Brighte's life to its conclusion.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow

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Fisherman's Bay
I will go to the fisherman's bay
And fish for some fresh fish
To eat on
Good friday
Because that is the holy week
That we don't eat meat
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Bass Lake (2)
Through the Woods
along the winding road
we arrive at Bass Lake
just in time for the summer break
Such clean sweet water
fresh as fresh can be
and you do not have to think
That water we can drink,
you and Me
So we all run to the end of the Dock
and jump in the cold water, awaiting the Shock
we swim for Clams,
and watch the Fish watching us
no worries the Fish don't Fuss
But having Fun, and swimming all day
Takes it out of you in a funny way
So we head up to the barn, for a lie in the hay
And we go to sleep dreaming that tomorrow will be a Sunny Day
poem by David Darbyshire

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Drench
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
In up to our necks
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
There's a light there to steer it
A fear that is peeling
And soaking us up
Into a slow-motion freezer
Division is leaving
Everything stops
It's overexposure
Stop running off on me
It's overexposure
Stop running off
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
In up to our necks
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Did you forget what you came in for?
Still shaking the rain off
Fresh from the storm
So we saved up the good stuff
And scrapped for the liferaft
Pistols at dawn
It's overexposed
And only tits and teeth remain
It's overexposed
Keep your filthy hands off
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
Had it up to here
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
Had it up to here
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
In up to our necks
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Come and fight back
Need some help here
Bail us out
Had it up to here
Drenching never stops
Fish us out
Fish us out
Fish us out
Fish us out
Fish us out
And it looks enough for all of us to get soaked...
song performed by by Gomez

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fresh Blood
All the neighbours never see me
But they wonder why I walk around at night
He gets hungry - I go hunting
In the moonlit streets
For somebody that's right
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Showgirls, businessmen in suits in the midnight rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
In the paper, seems a florist
Found in Lincoln Park, died of some anemia
No one raped her, poor Doloris
Just detained her and drained her on the spot
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Old men, ladies of the night walking in the rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
No one calls and no one visits
We're like a couplet out of Desolation Row
We don't want them to want to know us
'Cause when they do, they get a little bit too close
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast is all I'm living for
And I crave it more and more
Bad girls, cops on the beat in the midnight rain
If they're out alone, are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
song performed by by Alice Cooper

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fresh blood (Lyrics)
All the neighbours never see me
But they wonder why I walk around at night
he gets hungry - I go hunting
In the moonlit streets
For somebody that's right
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Showgirls, businessmen in suits in the midnight rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
In the paper, seems a florist
Found in Lincoln Park, died of some anemia
No one raped her, poor Doloris,
Just detained her and drained her on the spot
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Old men, ladies of the night walking in the rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
No one calls and no one visits
We're like a couplet out of Desolation Row
We don't want them to want to know us
'Cause when they do, they get a little bit too close
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast is all I'm living for
and I crave it more and more
Bad girls, cops on the beat in the midnight rain
If they're out alone, are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
poem by Satan's Sibling

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Varied Menu
Chicken and rice.
Fish and rice.
Rice and chicken.
Rice and fish.
Varied menu - 'ish!
Nice jungle place.
There's plenty of space.
Fresh clean air
But that dietary pair,
Fish or chicken
.....Not again!
So more trekking with a frown
Back to Georgetown.....
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw

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When I remember the fish
When I remember the fish,
The river longed me to go,
Wriggling and meandering, slippery in this
Imaginary waters of my world,
I become a fish.
When eye sea them eat the fish;
They cast their nets for a random catch, they
Drop their hooks for a strangling pull, then,
I become a fish no more.
When them fail to catch the fish;
As the fish wriggles an escape,
Then eye long to be like one as eye
Wonder whether or not am a fish.
©1998
poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka

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A Great Show
The fish-seller is
Butchering fish in the street;
The poor children
Can only watch the great show
And get all enjoyment.
poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

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A Fish In Your Hand
Many, many fish are washed ashore on the beach.
So vast as the eye can reach.
An old man is picking up the fish and throwing back to sea.
His grandson asks, 'Grandpa, how can you put all the fish to the sea.? '
He answers, ' Of course not, but the one in my hand is lucky.
It will survive and live happily.'
Then the boy joins him picking and throwing back the fish into water.
In the sky, flying in a circle
are meat-eating vultures.
The sun is getting hotter and hotter.
The fish are getting weaker and weaker.
The vultures are flying lower and lower.
The time is getting lesser and lesser.
Let us pick the fish Now or Never.
Let the nearby poor kids
be the lucky fish
saved by your own hand
like that of old man.
(based on a story I heard long time ago)
The Fish and the Sky
Once there was a fish living in a stream
Where water was clear and the surface gleam
Food was abundant and large predators away
The fish was passing happily its days
One day the fish looked up and noticed the sky
So blue and endless and free in its eyes
Suddenly it saw a flock of birds moving by
And immediately yearned that it itself could fly
With passing of time the fish’s desire grew
No longer with happiness its mind was ruled
It no more noticed clear water and surface gleam
Lack of predators and abundance of food became unimportant things
Finally the desire was too much for the fish to bear
So, it relentlessly jumped out of water into the air
In doing so the fish met its ultimate death
Devoured by a bird watching its crazy stunt.
poem by Henry Chen

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