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She Baited Me
She baited me
I swallowed whole, the hook and line,
She baited me
My eyes were closed, I could not see
Her temptress ways, no warning sign,
Dared me to learn, and rhymes combine,
She baited me
poem by Anthony Joseph Erangey
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My First Fishing Trip
Went with dad to Port Isabel to learn to fish,
‘Cause to catch a fish I told him that I did wish.
So to Purdy’s Court fishing pier,
We went with all our fishing-gear.
Yes, that fishing trip with dad I’ll always cherish!
There we were, him giving me casting instruction,
Then he baited my hook with a live crustacean,
I cast out high in the sky.
To catch a big fish to fry,
But instead, caught a sea gull - as consolation!
poem by Bobby Beddoe
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Isaac Newton
Isaac Newton
For years he fished in the nearby lake,
but the fish would never take his bait.
So he baited his hook with crusty-bread,
but even that didn’t turn their head.
He changed the bait to a lump of cheese
and thought this would tempt and tease,
but alas no bites from dusk till dawn,
so he changed the bait to boiled corn.
With no success with boiled wheat
Newton would not accept defeat.
So he put a juicy worm upon the hook,
but even this got no second look.
He cast aside his tackle and thoughts of fish,
and became a mathematician and physicist.
One sunny morning beneath an apple tree
he sat reading a book of philosophy.
From the lake a fish leaped high above his head,
but an apple fell down and hit him instead.
He looked up for the fish and it fell onto his lap,
so he ate the apple and put the fish back.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The Fish Hook
My father
holding fish-hook
hooking bait
throwing of it to sea
in that bridge
its angle line is moving quickly
big fish eating bait
in its fish-hook
or only crab
making a fool of bait
in its fish-hook
or chance
which is making a fool
of him'self
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Caught By The Writing Upon The Page (In Reponse To Poem: Meadow Of Crimson)
A unique land all of its own.
With powers far and wide renowned,
The name will always stick upon my mind.
With intrigue I have been sucked in.
For some reason I can't let go.
And I don't know why.
With words upon a fish hook I have been baited and caught.
Struggle as I may, as I might.
It is still such a good write.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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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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Casting
The waters deep, the waters dark,
Reflect the seekers, hide the sought,
Whether in water or in air to drown.
Between them curls the silver spark,
Barbed, baited, waiting, of a thought--
Which in the world is upside down,
The fish hook or the question mark?
poem by Howard Nemerov
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It is vain to fish without a hook, or learn to read without a book.
Mad: 1
He was angling fish sitting on the high way,
frequently making the hook dance
and all on a sudden, pulling the fishing rod so forcefully that
it seemed a big catfish had certainly swallowed the hook.
He was then repenting loudly showing others
really a big fish had been successful to flee making him a fool.
Pedestrians were watching him shaking their necks
and bursting into laughter.
An unhappy man stopped his purple colored car beside the road
and opening the window asked him aloud, 'Brother,
have you got any fish? '
He raised his eyes at forehead with surprise and said, 'Alas!
Who has ever got any fish on a dry street? '
poem by Sayeed Abubakar
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Number Eight Hook
This little fish hook, is a number eight,
Tiny as it is I will attest.
It's put many fish on my dinner plate,
For catching perch it is the best.
I wouldn't exchange it for all the rest.
With a piece of night crawler, wiggling around,
This tiny hook is my weapon of choice.
The fish are ecstatic, at what they have found,
And all of a sudden, they just loose their poise.
The silent assassin strikes without noise.
Little red number eight, I depend upon,
To get me fish, with constant ease.
My secret weapon when all else goes wrong,
For a wonderful supper, or catch and release.
Little red number eight, knows just how to please.
9/5/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Wickedness with beauty is the devil's hook baited.
The Young Man And The Sea
One day I sailed,
my ship out to sea,
I went for the want,
to fish and be free.
And I baited my line,
with a shriveled old thing,
my heart was the bait,
I hoped soon it would sing.
And on that very day,
I'd gotten my wish,
for teasing my heart,
was the most beautiful fish.
But it only nibbled,
and I loved that fish,
until my heart fell,
and was lost to the abyss.
The fish lost it's interest,
and then swam away,
I lost love for all else,
on that fateful day.
I still love the thing,
with this hole in my chest,
for in all of the sea,
that fish was the best.
And I still look for the fish,
or the heart that it drowned,
but I know what was lost,
cannot be found.
And so there my heart lies,
on the floor of the sea,
lost to the waves,
of my agony.
poem by Enrico Orbita
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We Are the Results of Our Seductions
Dieting on erotic products,
Induces an hypnotic feeling started.
And like a narcotic,
We are quick to become hooked.
Baited with temptations...
Seasoned to fry,
Or baked like a fish cooked.
And this mainlining,
Done to us without the prick of needles.
Afflicted with addictions done...
Without the prick of needles.
Dieting to get a fix,
Without the prick of needles to assist it.
Baited with temptations...
Seasoned to fry,
Or baked like a fish cooked.
Hooked!
We are the results of our seductions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Fish Eye
A fish eye just looks straight
It never shows emotions
It cannot refuse a bait
That may take it to oblivion.
A fish eye can only stare
Taking everything in one look
In innocence it will dare
To try what it's like on a hook.
A fish eye never cries
As the body grows limp in pain
Eventually it will die
And its scales go down the drain.
A fish eye you cannot eat
It seems to be looking at you
Each spoonful of fleshy meat
Seems to ask 'What did you do? '
(Smile - it's just a meal.)
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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You Fit Into Me
You fit into me
like a hook into an eye
a fish hook
an open eye
poem by Margaret Atwood
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An Angler
Now as an angler melancholy standing
Upon a green bank yielding room for landing,
A wriggling yellow worm thrust on his hook,
Now in the midst he throws, then in a nook:
Here pulls his line, there throws it in again,
Mendeth his cork and bait, but all in vain,
He long stands viewing of the curled stream;
At last a hungry pike, or well-grown bream
Snatch at the worm, and hasting fast away,
He knowing it a fish of stubborn sway,
Pulls up his rod, but soft, as having skill,
Wherewith the hook fast holds the fish's gill;
Then all his line he freely yieldeth him,
Whilst furiously all up and down doth swim
Th' insnared fish, here on the top doth scud,
There underneath the banks, then in the mud,
And with his frantic fits so scares the shoal,
That each one takes his hide, or starting hole:
By this the pike, clean wearied, underneath
A willow lies.
poem by William Browne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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First Do No Harm
As she impaled the worm on the
hook she said fishing gave her peace
... as she ripped out their eyes
throats and gills.. without surcease
Why not fish without a hook
without a net
with no intention to harm
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Broremann The Fisherman
Broremann the Angler
On the pier where fishing vessels were tied up my brother
sat fishing all the while seagulls kept swooping and shrieking,
he blissfully ignored them. He had no hook at the end of his
line and when asked why he said, I don´t like to hurt the fish.
But crafty little Broremann was not as innocent as you may
think, he didn´t like fish, all those horrible tiny bones,
his mother had sent him down to the pier to try catch some
fish for lunch. He liked sausages with mashed potatoes and
stewed peas, now he could go home tell his mother fish didn´t
bite today, but made sure to put the hook on the line so his
mother could see he was really trying. An old fisherman gave
him two sardines wrapped in a newspaper, but wouldn´t you
know it the pair of sardines somehow slipped out of the paper
and made their way back to the sea.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Reasons To Escape
You say you love me.
You love me just to get up and leave.
But you love.
You say you love me.
You say you love me.
You love me just to get up and leave.
But you love.
You say that you love me.
I feel I'm baited.
Baited for escapes you fake.
And I'm faited.
Knowing what you feel will fade.
I am baited.
Yes I feel I'm baited.
And I hate it.
I feel I'm baited.
Baited for escapes you fake.
And I am faited.
Knowing what you feel will fade.
I am baited.
I know you've got me baited.
And I hate it.
To know you've got me baited.
You say you love me.
But I know I'm baited.
When your feelings fake...
Reasons to escape.
You say you love me.
But I know I'm baited.
When your feelings fake...
Reasons to escape.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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