In the great river there are large and small fish.
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Fishees Underwater
Fish have many pretty colors, they live beneath the waves
Some fish seem to swim in schools while others live in caves
Some are short and some are small and some are stringy thin
Some of them are wide and tall and some just dig right in.
There's not much light beneath the waves of all our great big seas,
But all the fish don't seem to mind, they somehow still can see
Plants live down there, under water and make things seem so nice,
That all the fishes dance around and always check things twice.
Some fish swim deep down there, others they just won't
Some of them seem unafraid, but most of them just don't
Some fish have large shiny teeth, some have none at all
Some of them swim hastily, while others only crawl.
Of all the fish and animals my favorite is a star fish
If I find one on the beach, I stop and make a wish
I pick them up and throw them back, far out into the ocean
And hope they learn to not return, or repeat that silly notion.
poem by Daniel Lloyd Kennedy
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small fish in shallows
large fish found in deepest depths
few and far between
haiku by Christine A Kysely (05 February 2011)
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Lucky Catch
Once saw a small boy
Hand line a very large fish
Very lucky boy!
With expensive gear
Fisherman cast very far
Not a single fish
'Boy could barely cast'
Remarked the old fisherman
'Just beginners luck'
True about boy's skills.
Could only cast to the fish
Feeding at his feet
Not just gear or skill
To be lucky in fishing:
Fish where the fish are!
poem by Zen Bojczuk
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Dry River
River of Doom
Sad sight dry river, and twenty years ago it was
three metre deep and had trout. We caught some
with nets and, fried them on a small fire and felt
like cavemen. Delicious fish meat we ate with our
fingers. Every year I have seen the river getting
smaller even in the winter when it rains irregularly,
it is no more than a beck. There is no fish not even
the skeleton of children caught by a wall of water,
when it had been raining upland and into the river.
Their father was arrested it was said he had killed
the children, fed them to the pigs, but for a single
button in the sty they sat him free. Terrible rumors
every summer I see him walking along the dry river,
muttering to himself trying to find his children
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Help...
He is walking by a river
Feeling worse and worse by the minute
One second he is looking at the river
The next he is in it
The icy cold water pulling him down
His screams starting to make no sound.
He keeps fighting, kicking, howling
It was no use
The river was going to send him down
It would laugh in his ear
Knowing his struggle was useless
Though the boy was clueless.
It was decided that
That was all he could take
Letting his mind go numb
For his nerovs's sake
He is submerged in the water
Hearing a final laugh of victory
Just a bunch of mockery
From the stuipd river
nothing could be less civil
Down underwater
he could see many fish
And they looked kind of bothered
'Do not let the river win! '
a fish cried to him
'But I cannot swim no more
and you are just one fish' he sighed
The fish smiled 'Yes, but help can grow'
All the fish gathered around
And now the river no longer pulling him down
He gasped for air
Now he could see
That the poeple who really care
are the ones who can really help me.
A River Flows
Where does the river flow
if not to you?
How deep its depths
if these
are not yours?
How broad is the river bank?
Broad enough
for the tug-boats
to push my heart along.
If there are fish in the river,
they sing your name
open-mouthed,
fish-style,
making tiny bubbles float
up, up to the river surface
where they pop
spread
announcing to the Firmament
that Love lives just below
the deep river flows.
Yes, you and I
are the river;
we flow,
run deep
down to that
ocean-mix
in which
our souls
swirl.
Mix me then
in depths deep.
Mix you then
amid this ocean sweep
and all else,
for me
becomes meaningless
so great
is our Soul Mixed
Ocean Bliss.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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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
This is what the fish said
-1-
How long can the hide and seek go on?
The net is cast everyday and soon
you will be `it'.
A fish's silence says a lot
The one under the oath of Hatha Yoga
called back to say
`Ruthless love breeds contempt'
-2-
This is temple river
These are temple fish
Casting nets is prohibited here
Some fish even wear golden rings
They live on the puffed-rice of silence
They do not always decipher the meaning of dreams
Today they said move on to the big ocean
when the pond gets small
-3-
Eels travel miles to mate at mid sea
Some fish swim up current to
mate, lay eggs and die
Some spread the love scent for miles
with a small flutter of the tail
The laying of eggs is an all together
different matter.
Just a small movement of the body and a
small opening of the secret passage
and millions of tiny wonders slide down
guaranteeing there will be life after all
do not despair.
poem by Prathibha Nandakumar
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The Once Great River
In the once great river pollution is rife
Nowadays it does not support much aquatic life
In a polluted river fresh water fish rare
Pollution can cause extinction of that much we are aware
On the polluted river few water birds to be seen
Most of the river pools covered in algae of green
From sewage and wash of chemical fertilisers that in drains into it does flow
With so called human progress the scourge of pollution does grow
Pollution in it flowing to the distant ocean shore
The once great river is not great anymore
Do not drink of these waters the warning signs say
Pollutiuon is rife in the World of today
And the once great river flows on muddy gray
To the mighty ocean many miles away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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The Fish Year
Marico brought back a tank with salt water from Brazil,
Wnetta bought small stones and water plants from pet store,
The red fish and black fish were got from
Hua’s backyard pond,
After Chris checking the filter
and water temperature,
everything is set,
and the fish is ready to grow and bred.
Gundi feeds the fish everyday,
and watches them day and night.
The red fish swim up and down,
The black fish swim down and up,
The green water plants swing their long leaves
upside down.
We can hear the talk from the tank:
One lady, two ladies, three ladies…
One man, two men, three men…
American, German, Chinese, Brazilian,
Indian, Russian…
The fish is counting! ! !
Counting the people in the lab!
Maybe they learned the counting from Gundi,
Gundi is a great mathematician,
She always counts when she watches them:
One fish, two fish, three fish…
Red fish, black fish, red-black fish…
That’s our first fish year,
we expect to have the second, the third,
and then for ever.
poem by Dongming Zhou
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Heart turn to Tilapia
Joh gave Mou small
roasted tilapia fish
Small as it’s
Mou rejected tilapia in greed
And threw it in to river
fat and savoury soaked Mou palm
Mou looked and smelled his palm
He licked his palm
‘’why you throw fish away
And you lick your hand’’
Joh asked
‘’I am not licking but washing ‘’
‘’why don’t you use water’’
‘’my tongue can clean better than water’’
Mou said
What irony
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Anim
I was born by the river and l live by this river,
For at the age of five i fell in love to the river.
I was married at the age of fifteen to a fisherman,
And i've never been to school before;
But my only education is with this river.
The name of my husband is Anim and,
We live by this river;
For my birth and life are all based by this river!
But today, i am old with my children born on this river.
At dawn i go out with my canoe to catch some fish,
And i have a hook to catch some fish at daylight as well;
For this river had been my life ever since.
My husband is a fisherman and,
I was married to him at fifiteen;
And we've lived all our lives on this river.
This is my home and homw of my children,
This is my way of life and of the people around me,
For this river is all that i know in this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Old Man Who Likes To Catch Fish
A old man in a barage
likes to catch fish in a pond which is large
by fishing in day and night
he gets a lots of fish
he eats all fish in one day
poem by Shun Mathi
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Hilsa fish..... My favorite
Oh! Hilsa fish
Oh! Hilsa fish
I am a Bangladeshi
My favorite fish is Hilsa
Oh! Hilsa is very cute!
It has a silver colored body
Oh! the Hilsa of the river Padma, Meghna, Jamuna
Tastes very delicious!
Bangladeshisis eat Hilsa fry with rice soaked in water and using onions and chili
Really Hilsa is very great!
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
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The fish in me
Iam vegan, but! There is a fish in me.
The selfishness in me starts fuming,
..Every now and then makes me feel like crawl,
I make my world as small as possible,
Am I selfish?
Whenever “this fish” dominates
Its only one letter work “I”, “I” and “I”, I ponder
“This fish” screech
What about me? ? What about me? ?
This fish is whirling in the sea of jealousy,
I wish this sea of jealousy get dried up
And the fish to die in want of water.
poem by Tara Chettur
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The Crocodile That Ate Computers
There once was a cute crocodile
He lived happily in the River Nile
He liked the river a lot and its fish
Was really his favourite daily dish.
Since school was less his favourite
He remained for a long time illiterate
How to catch fish though he knew
Albeit his days in class were very few.
But a good tutor taught him math
A genius and polymath
The teacher earnest, tried his best
Explained everything with great zest.
Yet his student was always hungry
He could listen only hardly
Once he swallowed two computers
And found tasty all the numbers.
poem by Paul Hartal
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The Lion Never Sleeps
The Lion watches its prey
It's the pursued and the pursued
But which is which
As Nature plays
The game
Sometimes the hunter
Becomes the prey
Not knowing that
What is most apparent, Isn't at all.
Until in the final moment
The game is revealed
And the aggressor is
Captured, ending the play.
The nesting osprey
Need feed the hungry mouths
And pursues fish in the still waters
Of the nearby pond.
But neither a fish too large nor too small
Will be selected for the nestling's hungry malls
So the osprey circles overhead
Watching the larger fish pursue the small.
She selects the one
Near the surface for her quick
Descent and snatch
Away from the panicked school
And with a flutter of strong wings
The talons grasp the unsuspecting one
That till the moment was the
One pursuing the ones that flee.
Away she struggles with her catch
Back to the nestlings
Where this fish will add to their growing hunger,
Till they emerge to catch their own.
And the lion never sleeps.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
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A River Dies
a river dies choked to gills
expiring upon industrial waste
sadly as the river dies the fish die also
oxygen starved extinguished
life was a web of light upon the water
life web torn broken discarded
water breathed life into river flowing
man breathed in death river choking
oxygen rich river was flush with fish
smell taste drink putrid pollution
poem by Terence George Craddock
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