Listen to the sound of the river and you will get a trout.
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Listen to the sound of the river and you will catch a trout.
Yes, the Fish Music
A trout-colored wind blows
through my eyes, through my fingers,
and I remember how the trout
used to hide from the dinosaurs
when they came to drink at the river.
The trout hid in subways, castles,
and automobiles. They waited patiently for the dinosaurs to go away.
poem by Richard Brautigan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Healing Part I
Listen, listen
Listen to the voice,
The voice is an illusion
Listen to the voice,
Dont let the words confuse you
cause you need something to concentrate on,
Concentrate on me
You need something to meditate on,
Meditate on me
Listen, listen
Listen to your heart
Tune into the rhythm
Listen to your heart
Beating with precision
Like the waves upon the seaside,
It goes on and on
Like the spinning of the world,
It goes on and on
Listen, listen
Listen for the sound
That is not in the music
Only you can hear it,
Only you can use it
Its the sound of someone breathing,
Its the breath of life
Its the sound that you are weaving
With the thread of life
Listen, listen
Listen to the sound,
Let nothing disturb you
You are in a place
Where nothing can hurt you
If you feel a strange sensation,
It can do no harm
Like the spiral of creation,
It will soon move on
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Around
I look to the east when the day
Is done and think of it all
All the thoughts that Ive seen of
Satin seams and tide pool dreams
I look to the sun
As the day is dawning
I carry my dreams
From a moment before
I try to recall
But I find myself yawning
I guess they are gone but theres more
So I head out the door
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
First break in the day if the time
Is right and nobody minds
I stroll down the lane take a breath
Of air and drift on a dream
I look to the sun
As the day is warming
Consider the things
That have happened before
I feel like Im one
With the wind on the hillside
I feel like Im one with the
River that runs by my door
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
I look to the sun
As the day is dawning
I carry my dreams
From a moment before
I feel like Im one
With the wind on the hillside
I feel like Im one with the
River that runs by my door
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hold Back The River
Stop your pretending
Listen to what Ive got to say
How your heads went away
Only here for a day
And that grave I just made
Is for me when I get paid
Wont you wait a while
Move to the blue
Sometimes people dont want to say
Old time dancers dont die that way
See that grave Ive just made
Its for me when I get paid
Somebodys gotta hold back the river
Somebody like you
Do you love and surrender
Sometimes I dont feel I can remember
I think its fair to mention
About the days when I get paid
Somebodys gotta hold back the river
Somebody like you
Somebodys gotta hold back the river
Somebody like you
I want a little loving
I told you all to listen
But you never liked what you heard
I take what I am given
This may sound absurd
I share a double vision
That started the transition
Hey wheres jimmy jazz
Steady on the scale
I told you to listen
I told you all to listen
Somebodys gotta hold back the river
Somebody like you
Somebodys gotta hold back the river
Somebody like you
You know that somebody
You know that somebody
You know that somebody
But it aint you
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Talking River
I hear the river
Words flow down the pebble creek through my heart
Defy my understanding
It comes from unknown source, and
Proceeds to unforeseen destinations
It mirrors everything in my life, and says
It’s okay to make mistake sometimes
River passes us by, and
Flow on to other places
So often I listen to it for a second
Hold the words in the palm of my hands
Before it slips through my fingers
Always the river
Remind me love and hatred has no end
So are words has no limits
I will listen to what you say, and
We listen to the river again
The talking river holds its promise
Its steady flow forgives all blemishes
Its current washes off sinking debris
Cleanse our heart as we listen to it
Part 4 of Trout Fishing in America
THE AUTOPSY OF
TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA
This is the autopsy of Trout Fishing in America as if Trout
Fishing in America had been Lord Byron and had died in
Missolonghi, Greece, and afterward never saw the shores
of Idaho again, never saw Carrie Creek, Worsewick Hot
Springs, Paradise Creek, Salt Creek and Duck Lake again.
The Autopsy of Trout Fishing in America:
"The body was in excellent state and appeared as one that
had died suddenly of asphyxiation. The bony cranial vault
was opened and the bones of the cranium were found very
hard without any traces of the sutures like the bones of a
person 80 years, so much so that one would have said that
the cranium was formed by one solitary bone. . . . The
meninges were attached to the internal walls of the cranium
so firmly that while sawing the bone around the interior to
detach the bone from the dura the strength of two robust men
was not sufficient. . . . The cerebrum with cerebellum
weighed about six medical pounds. The kidneys were very
large but healthy and the urinary bladder was relatively
small. "
On May 2, 1824, the body of Trout Fishing in America
left Missolonghi by ship destined to arrive in England on the
evening of June 29, 1824.
Trout Fishing in America's body was preserved in a cask
holding one hundred-eighty gallons of spirits: 0, a long way
from Idaho, a long way from Stanley Basin, Little Redfish
Lake, the Big Lost River and from Lake Josephus and the
Big Wood River.
poem by Richard Brautigan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Eagle's Life
An Eagle soars high above,
Skimming seas, lakes and cove,
Piercing, sharp, an Eagle's eye,
Swooping down, did spy,
Swimming trout en route,
Mother Nature's food.
She swooped down and without a doubt,
The majestic eagle has just caught a trout.
With one swipe, her claw did grab,
A fleshy trout, hardly a flap.
Listen To The Rain
(Rain)
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen listen
Listen to each drop of rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Whispering secrets in rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Frantically searching for someone to hear
That story be more than it hides
Please don't let go
Can't we stay for a while?
It's just to hard to say goodbye
Listen to the rain
Aa...ah
Listen listen listen listen listen listen to the rain
Weeping
Oo...ooh oooh ooh oo...ooh
Oo...ooh oooh oh oh
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen
I stand alone in the storm (listen listen)
Suddenly sweet words take hold
(Listen listen)
Hurry they stay for you haven't much time
Open your eyes to the love around you
You can feel youre alone
But I'm here still with you
You can do what you dream
Just remember to listen to the rain
oo...ooh oh oh oh oh
ooh ooh oh oh oooh
Listen
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tiny Demons
One of them plays a piccolo in my ear
Another one makes me smell things that arent there
And they know where to hide
And they know everything thats inside
Of my head
Tiny demons, inside me
One of them ties a lasso around my heart
Another makes me nod when I drive the car
And they wont ever leave
But they wont show their faces to me
And they wait til I feel
Like theyre gone and they jump out and steal
My relief
Tiny demons, inside me
Listen, listen
Listen for the sound
That is not in the music
Only you can hear it,
Only you can use it
Its the sound of someone breathing,
Its the breath of life
Its the sound that you are weaving
With the thread of life
Listen, listen
Listen to the sound,
Let nothing disturb you
You are in a place
Where nothing can hurt you
If you feel a strange sensation,
It can do no harm
Like the spiral of creation,
It will soon move on
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First things first for my friend Ben
The moon is shining on the lake
where trout are rising after flies
this tells me that it’s time to fish.
The gentle art of casting flies
correctly as my father taught,
has filled full many a supper dish
A trout that’s fried in bacon grease
Has a unique taste all its own,
If I were hungry I would wish.
For a fresh trout upon my plate
A feast I would appreciate.
But first you have to catch your fish.
28-May-07
poem by Ivor .e Hogg
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A silent river
In the silent river my sweetheart tell me everything
See how calm the waters
In the silent river my sweetheart tell me what you feel
see how beautiful the river
With the sound of birds whistling
Joyful whistling in this river
How happy they gave beauty on this silent river
In the silent river my love dont forget with our promises
Sound of water running thrilling us
Note the butterfly flew with graceful
Add warm atmospher here
in the silent river
how much i have anxious waiting for you here
in the silent river
The anxiety i always remember our promises
here in the silent river
When there is only me that shaded the sun's heat
To time gives the distance between us
In the silent river..
my sweetheart dont forget with our love
Soft Spray
As gravity pulls river water down
A huge explosion of sound reverberates
And I feel the falling of the water
As if I was a part of the river
As the water glides over the high cliff
I strain to listen to ev'ry sound made
Expecting some profound revelation
To hear the words of God in the water
As the waterfall plunges to the earth
Releasing a soft spray that kisses me
I listen to the din of the water
Hoping to hear the lessons of nature
As I stand here listening to the roar
Of the waterfall moving before me
I also hear the peace surrounding me
Easing the chaos that torments my soul
As the soft spray kisses me, I simply
Relax and enjoy the calm of nature.
poem by Nate Flying Owl
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Healing Part Iii
Listen, listen
Listen to the cry
Of a world thats calling to you
Listen to the cry
Of the helpless souls that need you
Though you may have trepidation
You can not refuse
You will find your own salvation
In the path you choose
Listen, listen
Listen to the voice
That whispers in the silence
Listen as the voice
Solidifies your self reliance
Let the peace that youve discovered
Be a guiding light
Let the cry that youve uncovered
Set the world aright
You could not be closer to your maker
Never more or less alone
If you know thyself
Theres nothing else to know
You are whole
Listen, listen
Listen to the sound,
Let nothing disturb you
You are in a place
Where nothing can hurt you
If you feel a strange sensation,
It can do no harm
Like the spiral of creation,
It will soon move on
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A tribute to the BBC 'Young Musician of 2008
This is what love
sounds like. This
is how you know
the heart is only ever one.
This boy, he’s twelve years old,
he’s standing on the platform
in the huge hall. He’s simply
waiting to play himself to you.
The trombone is now a few inches
shorter than he is. When he started,
it was bigger than he was.
He begins to play, Can this sweetness
have come from this contraption?
If Pythagoras was lecturing tonight
on music, measure, the harmony of spheres,
he’d have brought his tape measure
in case we needed proof.
If giraffes could sing,
they would sing to this trombone,
knowing themselves beautiful like it,
knowing that they both know
where music comes from.
How far it goes.
The sound says,
purity sounds like this. Listen.
The sound says,
did you know that innocence
can contain the whole of wisdom?
Listen.
The sound says,
did you know that experience
can know itself in music?
Listen.
The sound says,
I am music. This
Is what music is. I am
all music in this moment.
If tears were joys, they
would sound like this.
If joys were tears, they
would both sound like this.
The sound says,
I was made for this.
Listen.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love By The River
Love by the River.
I carried the old fashion gramophone,
she carried the records to the river.
We sat and I kissed her while listening
to 1959 records.
Let´s have a dip. Naked we swam in
the moonlit river that cleanses disgust.
Her armpits had the aroma of clover
Started gramophone again, music back
then was so trite, lyrics boring and her
body looked enchanting in moonlight.
I threw the bloody music machine into
the river, she did ditto with the records.
We made love in stillness as trout waked
I regretted not having brought a fishing rod.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas
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A street thug and a paid killer are professionals - beasts of prey, if you will, who have dissociated themselves from the rest of humanity and can now see human beings in the same way that trout fishermen see trout.
quote by Willard Gaylin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dao Of Fishing
Does a trout know it lives in water?
A lake her own watery universe,
where survival depends on speed
and an ability to find sustenance
The trout prays to her fish god;
“Lord god I hunger…feed me”
As if magic,
a fat worm drifts down from above
Instinctively the eager trout greedily
gulps down the wiggler
She then feels something sharp
in her gullet, then something
pulling her upward
She struggles;
Twisting and writhing
She’s pulled to waters surface
where she desperately jumps
It’s no use; the pull is too strong
Giving up she relaxes,
as a green web scoops down
and roughly encircles her
She gasps for breath in this dry
hostile alien environment
She hears a strange sound;
“Dad, ain’t she a beauty”
A beefy hand grasps the trout
Something cold is thrust down her throat
She feels the sharp hook dislodge and pull free
She makes a weak attempt to wiggle free,
just as another beefy hand holding something
wooden strikes downward…
She’s losing consciousness, but fights the
looming blackness long enough to think;
“God why hast thou forsaken me”
Then silence…
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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