In the great sea fish is always to be caught. [There is a greater chance for enterprise in a large place.]
Related quotes
Truth Works
'When the truth works its way
through the net of illusion
and plunges back into the sea, '
says the fish to the fisher,
'the freedom it experiences
then is far greater than
that it experienced
before it was caught.'
'So you are the truth? '
says the fisher to the fish,
checking his net for a tear
the fish might work through.
'I am the truth, and you are, too, '
says the fish, jumping up
out of the net, 'and so are
the net and the sea.' Splash!
poem by Dick Holmes

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Benefits of 1995 Fish Trash Policy
policy no policy
policy of indifference
policy of stupidity
now reaps rewards
use “trash fish”
policy as animal feeds
and in fish farming means
bycatch
is increasingly
financially
attractive to fishers
fishers of world oceans
policy bad policy
1995 one study
showed 27 million tonnes
of fish being discarded
every year but
2005 an investigation found
figure had dropped
to recorded
only 7 million tones
good news
no amount
of bycatch
did dropp not
just deleted
from records
off hot books
policy of greed
a Bermuda Triangle mystery?
a mystery of 20 million tonnes
20 million tonnes of missing fish?
20 million tonnes
were being sold
but control without
what hope in fisheries
of achieving sustainability
if we don’t woe know what
is being caught?
time for television watch
sport big game fishing but
“an estimated 90 per cent
of all large predatory fish
are gone totally fished out
greed humanity gills caught”
partly because fish trash
part of food chain was never trash
what do you think big fish eat?
(Quotation is the poem ‘Where Did All Large Game Fish Go? ’ by Terence George Craddock)
poem by Terence George Craddock

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What Will Apex Predators Eat?
“species tuna sharks
will have no fish
left no small fish
will have no food to eat? ”
when juveniles are caught
all immature fish caught
before next generation breeding
poem by Terence George Craddock

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In Constant Struggle
there is this hook, line and
sinker
someone is a fish and he
is caught
the urchins and clams
and octopuses watch helplessly
the fish is this philosophy of
being caught and wanting to be free
you are inside this ocean and
you are this fish
and then you wish to become a man
all your life you feel the fish in there
hook, line and sinker
the fish in you and the man within
in constant struggle
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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We Never Speak
I caught a silver fish
I caught a fish of gold
The first one spoke to me
And so I let it go.
The second told a joke
And I started to laugh
It slipped from my hand
Down into the sea.
Since then I have tried
To learn the language of fish
Of flowers, birds and bears
Sometimes I am they
And they are me
But now we never speak.
poem by Barbara Spring

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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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153 Large Fish
Do you love me?
Then follow my laws and do the right thing;
For bread and fish will be food on this love,
And like your muse so respected last night.
I saw you and i spoke with you,
And you know that i love you!
And like 153 large fish caught by the fisherman;
But the pleasure and the measure of this love is all about yout muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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One More Chance
If I could only relive yesterday
I think I'd try to do it right
If I had one more chance to be with you
I think it just might save my life
Chorus:
Just one more chance
And I will be your love forever
One more chance, one more chance
Just one more chance
And I will be your love forever
One more chance, one more chance
I'm caught it the same old world
And I just can't get my head unwhirled
And I'm looking for any old place to hide
I took a journey down thru paradise
I think I'd like to make it twice
I took another journey yesterday
I hope it just won't ruin my life
Chorus:
Just one more chance
And I will be your love forever
One more chance, one more chance
Just one more chance
And I will be your love forever
One more chance, One more chance
(repeat twice)
song performed by by Zebra

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 24
A weak fisherman caught a strong fish in his net and not being able to retain it the fish overcame him and pulled the net from his hand.
A boy went to bring water from the torrent.
The torrent came and took the boy away.
The net brought every time a fish.
This time the fish went and carried off the net.
The other fishermen were sorry and blamed him for not being able to retain such a fish which had fallen into his net. He replied: ‘O brothers, what can be done? My day was not lucky but the fish had yet one remaining. ‘Moral: A fisherman cannot catch a fish in the Tigris without a day of luck and a fish cannot die on dry ground without the decree of fate.
Fish Fever
This week end I went fishing
A fish in mind to catch
I went wishing, wishing, wishing
To catch a perfect catch
I wanted to catch the big one
The one that always gets away
I waited under the hot, hot sun
I waited for that fish all day
Then there was a pull on my line
The pull so full of magic
It made me think mine, mine, mine
Me, the fisherwoman classic
This fish was big I could feel
Big and strong, a winners tale
All I had to do was reel, reel, reel
In order not to fail
Me and this fish fought a moment
Tugging and yanking, pulling and reeling
Until I screamed net! Net! NET!
Is this a winners feeling?
In that moment I knew that it was this
The moment I caught the one that got away
I caught it, I caught it, I caught it
Fishing fever is what I caught that day
poem by Cheré Mason

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The Lung Fish
The Honorable Ardleigh Wyse
Was every fisherman's despair;
He caught his fish on floating flies,
In fact he caught them in the air,
And wet-fly men -- good sports, perhaps --
He called "those chuck-and-chance-it chaps".
And then the Fates that sometimes play
A joke on such as me and you
Deported him up Queensland way
To act as a station jackaroo.
The boundary rider said, said he,
"You fish dry fly? Well, so do we.
"These barramundi are the blokes
To give you all the sport you need:
For when the big lagoons and soaks
Are dried right down to mud and weed
They don't sit there and raise a roar,
They pack their traps and come ashore.
"And all these rods and reels you lump
Along the creek from day to day
Would only give a man the hump
Who does his fishing Queensland way.
For when the barramundi's thick
We knock 'em over with a stick.
"The black boys on the Darwin side
Will fill a creek with bitter leaves
And when the fish are stupefied
The gins will gather 'em in sheaves.
Now tell me, could a feller wish
A finer way of catchin' fish?"
The stokehold of the steamship Foam
Contains our hero, very sick,
A-working of his passage home
And brandishing a blue gum stick.
"Behold," says he, "the latest fly;
It's called the Great Australian Dry."
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

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040510g We Are Overfishing The Sea
a giant umbrella planted on sand
garden chairs and folding table
resting loose close to large coolers
audible mumbles from six crabbers
line along the length of the sea shore
little kid doesn't mind playing with dog
i came closer to see how are they faring
caught few male, female crabs and fish
old man sitting on a stool with fishing pole
his radio is on rock station lipsynching roll
called me, we talk, complaining about catch
he said fish has disappeared besides spots
***
spot is a fish abundant in hampton roads, virginia
overfishing could really deplete fish population or
use of illegal gill nets...plus chemicals that disrupt
hatching process. we must understand a lot of us
is shifting meat to fish or to veggies.
poem by Manonton Dalan

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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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Where Did All Large Game Fish Go?
an estimated 90 per cent
of all large predatory fish
are gone totally fished out
greed humanity gills caught
poem by Terence George Craddock

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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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Last Chance
A cold day in december
And im still here alone
I look trough my window and I surrender
Should be gone
But I have no place to go
Chorus:
Last chance to get up
Last chance to go
Last chance to get up and go
Last chance to get up
Last chance to go
Last chance to get up and go
If there were someone
Id hold her
If there was love
Id let it take me away
But I just stay here alone
Chorus:
Last chance to get up
Last chance to go
Last chance to get up and go
Last chance to get up
Last chance to go
Last chance to get up and go
I feel nothing I feel no pain
I feel no joy nor hurt inside
I only have myself to blame
If I see that the worlds passed me by
Chorus:
Last chance to get up
Last chance to go
Last chance to get up and go
Last chance to get up
Last chance to go
Last chance to get up and go
song performed by by John Mellencamp

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our biggest fish
When in the halcyon days of old, I was a little tyke,
I used to fish in pickerel ponds for minnows and the like;
And oh, the bitter sadness with which my soul was fraught
When I rambled home at nightfall with the puny string I'd caught!
And, oh, the indignation and the valor I'd display
When I claimed that all the biggest fish I'd caught had got away!
Sometimes it was the rusty hooks, sometimes the fragile lines,
And many times the treacherous reeds would foil my just designs;
But whether hooks or lines or reeds were actually to blame,
I kept right on at losing all the monsters just the same--
I never lost a little fish--yes, I am free to say
It always was the biggest fish I caught that got away.
And so it was, when later on, I felt ambition pass
From callow minnow joys to nobler greed for pike and bass;
I found it quite convenient, when the beauties wouldn't bite
And I returned all bootless from the watery chase at night,
To feign a cheery aspect and recount in accents gay
How the biggest fish that I had caught had somehow got away.
And really, fish look bigger than they are before they are before they're
caught--
When the pole is bent into a bow and the slender line is taut,
When a fellow feels his heart rise up like a doughnut in his throat
And he lunges in a frenzy up and down the leaky boat!
Oh, you who've been a-fishing will indorse me when I say
That it always is the biggest fish you catch that gets away!
'T 'is even so in other things--yes, in our greedy eyes
The biggest boon is some elusive, never-captured prize;
We angle for the honors and the sweets of human life--
Like fishermen we brave the seas that roll in endless strife;
And then at last, when all is done and we are spent and gray,
We own the biggest fish we've caught are those that got away.
I would not have it otherwise; 't is better there should be
Much bigger fish than I have caught a-swimming in the sea;
For now some worthier one than I may angle for that game--
May by his arts entice, entrap, and comprehend the same;
Which, having done, perchance he'll bless the man who's proud to say
That the biggest fish he ever caught were those that got away.
poem by Eugene Field

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In the great river there are large and small fish.
Not For Me
Not for me she said
I don’t want to end up
like my mother
I want to reach out
and touch real life
and not end up
some man’s wife
and be endlessly
at his beck and call
and she sat
by the pond
looking over
to the other side
where the woods were dense
and reached out
and touched your hand
and you wondered
if there were still fish
in the pond
and if when
you brought your rod
the following day
you’d catch any
and you liked the way
the sunlight caught
the pond’s skin
and she said
I want to feel
being alive
feel the electric of life
run through my veins
and she leaned over
and kissed you
and placed her hand
between your thighs
and touched the hardness
of your crotch
and you said
do you know how big
the fish was
that got away
when I fished here last?
And she said
no but I know how big
the one I’ve caught is
and laughed
and released her hand
and gave you one
of her stares with her
large passionate eyes
and you noticed
a lone big bird in black
moving across
the bright blue skies.
poem by Terry Collett

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