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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
{{{ A Special Fish For Me? }}}
Yes there are many fish out in the sea,
but why can't I find one that will
best suit me,
well, I mean the fish in the sea are free,
yet all I keep doing is coming up is empty,
I start to believe,
then I begin to see, that, well, there just isn't one out there for me.
I go down to the sea, and I just look around,
well, again, there are no fortunate fish to be found!
Everyday I still continue to go down by the sea and sit down on the sand,
I look across the ocean and wonder is there another kind of
land to see,
to be able to relax and not have to act on command?
There is a fish for me,
because this is the way I was told it IS to be,
there has just gotta be that
special fish for me!
poem by Linda I. Weischedel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When A Person Does Not Know What To Do With Himself
WHEN A PERSON DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIMSELF
When a person does not know what to do with himself
When a person feels empty
When a person feels everything he had done and everything he can do do is meaningless
When a person is bored
When a person does not know what to do with himself
And wonders why he is on this earth
And how he will endure more of it
When a person does not know what to do with himself
He must do any little thing he can do
To get himself going-
He must wash the dishes or clean the house or take something to eat or take a small walk or read a page
Or do any one of a million or more other small things to get himself going
And once he is going he must somehow go on and on and from this to something else
So that at some point somewhere along the way somehow
He is doing something
Perhaps not that great
But doing something
And in doing something
Perhaps forgetting about himself
A bit
Perhaps.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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Icthus (JS#5)
Epiphany 5
Many fishes
Jesus fishes
Peter no fish
Jesus “pish pish “
Peter empty dish
Jesus full dish
Peter bare dish
Jesus extra dish
Peter one dish
Jesus many dishes
Peter fish
Jesus fishes
B.C. fish
A.D. fishes
B.C. Moses
A.D. Jesus
poem by James Hart
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Remembering A Friend Through The Fish
we keep when we were children
our treasures in a form of a fish
inside our own little secret ponds
we never intend to share them at first
we fear the adults who steal
we dislike them minding us
telling us that fish is not interesting at all
that the pond is just a very small world
where our minds are convoluted
like intestines of a fish
do you remember the flood
of adult water spreading rising higher than our knees?
it was very sad
all the fish we kept were taken away by the indifference
of the majority
we give up
we went to other places
and then we became too lonely
they want us to hate the fish
to be like them
and so here we are still keeping the fish
in anger.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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notes from Brigs
how big can that fish be inside
a small fishbowl
how crowded can such a small space
appear with it and a seaweed with three leaves that reach the surface of the water
how small can that big fish be in that fishbowl
when it is thrown to the sea
how insignificant can it become?
how the waves can simply lose it
like an atom of air in space that we cannot see?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Caring For a Dead Fish
When the cupboard is bare
And the cat’s had the cream,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the house is on fire
And the birds have all flown,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When your loved ones have gone
And you’re left all alone,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the seas have dried up
And the land is all desert,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the Sun has gone Nova
And we’re all blown to bits,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When it’s all empty space
And there’s nothing at all,
Even a dead fish would be worth caring about.
poem by Pete Crowther
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The Selfish Fish
Once upon a time
a very small fish
started to change his dish
was envious of others
and did not feel fine.
The bigger fishes
creating big bubbles
and were honored
as respectful swimmers
and producing no trouble.
Instead of normal eat
the small fish now ate
the letters and words
of a newspaper found wet
in the sea of the state.
Now he also earns
lovely returns
of the bigger ones
creating big bubbles
and was heard with his words.
But due to the food
he got thinner
and blow up himself
with air
to be the winner.
Now he looks
like a blow-fish
but empty and thin
only the air and the
words were in.
The time has come
to select the best
the blubber of the year
a national
fish poetry test.
So astonished he was
chosen as the one
he got the best reputation
and honored by
the whole fish civilization.
For the next contest
he was invited
to speak in front
of all animals
united.
But therefore
he had to went on land
publishing his words
in books
which were sent.
The publishing house
give to understand
they will create
with him
a very new brand.
But just when he was
starting to bubble
at land his first big bubbles
he died
loosing all air and his trouble.
So the morality could be
watch and comment
the bubbles of the others to learn
and to earn respect and knowledge
and to stay proud and happily
as a fish in the sea.
(c) Floyd Floydson,08/22/2012
poem by Floyd Floydson
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When A Person Does Not Know What
When a person does not know what to do with himself
When a person feels empty
When a person feels everything he had done and everything he can do do is meaningless
When a person is bored
When a person does not know what to do with himself
And wonders why he is on this earth
And how he will endure more of it
When a person does not know what to do with himself
He must do any little thing he can do
To get himself going-
He must wash the dishes or clean the house or take something to eat or take a small walk or read a page
Or do any one of a million or more other small things to get himself going
And once he is going he must somehow go on and on and from this to something else
So that at some point somewhere along the way somehow
He is doing something
Perhaps not that great
But doing something
And in doing something
Perhaps forgetting about himself
A bit
Perhaps.
WHAT DO I KNOW? \AND WHO AM I?
What do I know?
And who am I?
The real questions
I cannot answer
They are beyond me.
And I don't think
I have anything to give
Even in beginning to answer them.
Just another human being
Who has come this way
And soon will be gone
Without ever having answered
The real questions.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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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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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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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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Part 4: The fish saves the worm
The big-mouth fish, snatched the worm.
As the worm was afraid; a small piece of him,
was left, on the sharp object.
The fish cuddle him, in his mouth.
Swimming as fast as he can;
to make it, close to the shore.
The fish, spit him out, on the land.
As the worm landed, he look toward the fish.
And said, ' thank you for not eating me? '
I wish you well, the fish said. Take care!
As the worm grind his way, toward a new place.
Knowing this ain't his home, the ground was moist.
He drilled a hole, and discover a new home.
The End....
poem by Derrick Clark
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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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