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Brain Food
An Urang-utan lived in a tree
at the top for he wanted to see.
He spent most of each day
climbing up the down way
twas each time when he needed to pee.
On a Sunday, it was around nine
he was just getting ready to dine,
when a bird dropped a fish
right into his dish
and it tasted like fish and devine.
Fish is brain food, that's factual, you see,
for big apes who reside in a tree,
thus this fish did bestow
what a human would know:
He could pee from the top of the tree.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To climb a tree to catch a fish is talking much and doing nothing.
Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Even leaves beg me'' says Eagle
eagle, niggard and black
perched on sycomore on Nile bank
tasty fish gambolled in water
at lightening speed eagle caught
tasty fish and scrambled out
eagle flew and perched on a tree
man was under a tree
and glanced at what sat on tree
eagle and man eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying
''man may conjure him
by evil eyes''
eagle flew and perched on second tree
some birds were on that tree
Eagle and others birds eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying he
'' choke as birds watch him eating''
Eagle flew and perched on third tree
the breeze shook leaves of tree
eagle saw leaves unfolded shaking
like a begging hand
eagle flew away saying
'' everything beg me , even leaves
beg me too''
Eagle flew and perched on fourth withered tree
no birds, men and leaves around there
only exrtreme silence around there
eagle ate tasty fish
sang in loudest resounding voice
''eel fish and tasty fish are not the same
I ate tasyty fish until heart palpitated in happiness''
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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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
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fish Pound and Violin
My grandpa stay in the house
Near the river
Where its water flow end in the South Ocean
His garden hedged with Bamboo trees
In front of the garden planted three tuft trees
The children like to climb the tuft tree
Pick up the fruits and eat on the tree
Glad and laughing
My grandpa was silent and said nothing
He just smile subtly, and gaze at far away
There is a fish pond in the backyard,
In its edge planted pineapple and banana trees
My grandma always give brand and papaya leaf to the pound
Giving food for the fish like Gurame, Sepat dan Nila,
While my grandpa make a biola, gitar and bass
In the litlle studio, near the kitchen
I passionatedly gaze the fish jump around
And glad
While they don’t know their destiny
Decided by mothers in the cities
On the frying pan, roastibng, caserate,
With imagine to ecpanced their plan on the rice filed
Near the road forgeted how farmer produce,
Fish, rice and vegetable,
And actually
Their Self conscience.
poem by Prasetya Utama
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A Way To Live
a little fish rises from the
water to
eat a bubble of
air
from the tree a
kingfisher with an eye
for fish
swiftly dives and
with its sharp long black beak
catches the
little fish
a boy with a rubber sling
aims at the blue kingfisher
hitting it with a
stone crushing its
round head and
sharp long and black beak
to the ground
a ripe coconut falls
from a tree and
hits the head of the
boy below
the lizard that climbs
the coconut tree
looking for brown beetles
at the top
does not notice how
all these events
happen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If you climb up a tree, you must climb down the same tree.
No Choice
'When I was a kiddy and away out-back,'
Said the man with the salt-bush lingo.
'My dogs, two cattle-dogs, grey and black,
They gets fair on to the blinded track
Of a walloping great big dingo!
The savagest beast in all the pack -
Oh, he was the real old stingo!'
'They rounded him up till he climbs a tree
And of course he was mighty glad to.'
'Hold on,' says I, 'for I never did see
A dingo yet as could climb a tree
And I've seen 'em run real bad, too!'
'You can say that beast can't climb a tree?
By the holy smoke he had to!'
poem by William Thomas Goodge
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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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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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When a deceiving man tells you to climb a tree, tell him to climb it first. If he finds a comfortable spot you can follow him.
Treecreepers
Elusive birds them one don't often see
Treecreepers build their cup shaped nest of bark behind loose bark of tree
From predators concealed and hidden away
And pinkish spotted eggs the female lay.
Shy woodland birds of humans they show respectful fear
They climb tree trunks in search of insects and when human to them venture near
Of the tree trunk they disappear to the other side
Of watchers eyes they'd much prefer to hide.
They will never be renowned as birds of song
Though their familiar chirps one hardly could get wrong
The ornithologists and bird watchers on studying them don't spend much of their time
And they seldom have inspired the poets to rhyme.
From the day they leave the nest until the day they die
From ground up they climb the tree and then to the next tree fly
To climb again in search of invertebrates such things they like to eat
They must have great strength in their tiny feet
In wooded places they like to reside
And from predators their cup shaped nest they hide
Shy little birds when human to them venture near
To the other side of the tree trunk they disappear.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Tree (a Repost)
the tree
when the big tree falls
hit by lightning
roared by thunder
when the big tree finally falls
and i am there
the big sound
of a giant old tree
falling finally to the ground
the arrogance
that used to be
of that big old tree
we all look up
it is so high
and we do not
climb it anyhow
we fear
and
perhaps we too pay respect
for its grandeur
and today this big tree falls
hit by lightning and roared by thunder
the universe claps upon the
fall of arrogance and pride
and a tree's belief about
its hugeness and
strength
now this tree falls
and i am here watching it
you are not here
you are in some foreign country
how can i tell you
that this tree has fallen
and there is nothing to fear anymore?
when a tree falls and you are not there
your logic tells
there is no tree
there is no tree of such strength and posture
there is no tree like that
that can ever fall
all because a lightning hit it
and all because the thunder roared
without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Be It For What It Is
Be it for what it is,
More than what it is not.
Is it a tree that breathes with life?
Does a foothill wish to grow,
Into a mountain?
With people to climb,
Its peak to reach the top.
We know a river flows,
Into an ocean.
Brimming with fish...
And other swimming things unknown.
Although we live to take for granted,
This Earth we leech.
To question what God upon us bestows.
With a seeking to dissect...
Instead of accepting what is,
In an exposing disrespected neglect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Tree
when the big tree falls
hit by lightning
roared by thunder
when the big tree finally falls
and i was there
a big sound
of a giant old tree
falling finally to the ground
the arrogance
that used to be
by that big old tree
we all looked upon
it was so high
and we did not
climb it anyhow
for fear
and
perhaps respect for its grandeur
and today this big tree falls
hit by lightning and roared by thunder
the universe claps upon the
fall of arrogance and pride
and a tree's belief about
its hugeness and
strength
now this tree falls
and i am here watching it
you are not here
you are in some foreign country
how can i tell you
that this tree has fallen
and there is nothing to fear anymore?
when a tree falls and you are not there
your logic tells
there is no tree
there is no tree of such strength and posture
there is no tree like that
that can ever fall
all because a lightning hits it
and all because the thunder roared
without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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