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Gefilte Fish
My version of a Jewish folk song;
the 2nd stanza should start slow,
then get faster & faster to the end.
Gefilte fish, I love you;
I love you, gefilte fish;
I swear by the stars above you,
You're such a tasty dish,
Hey!
You once were free
Out in the sea,
Until somebody caught you,
But now, wise guy,
'You'll see that I
Will eat you 'cause I bought you,
Hey!
Gefilte fish, I love you
I love you, gefilte fish
I swear by the stars above you
You're such a tasty dish,
hey!
poem by John Bliven Morin
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Fish Dinner
I don't want to swim the ocean
I don't want to swim the sea
I don't want to eat the fish
And I don't want them eating me
I'm sure I wouldn't make a tasty dish
So I won't bother them, if the fish agree!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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The Fisherman's Boat
I am tied to a pole
In me came and sat a fisherman with a big mole
He had a fishing rod and a net
With a bucket and bait so wet
He untied me and rowed me
Into the deep sea
And with rod, net and bait
He caught fish till late
He went home with a big fish
To prepare and eat a tasty dish
Tomorrow again he’ll come wearing his overcoat
To untie me, his little fishing boat.
poem by Niharika Singh
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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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Down the Chippy
Tasty chips sizzling away
an aroma that can't be beat
'Salt and Vinegar Sir? '
what a tasty treat.
When we were little kids
going to the chippy was a delight
Fish n Chips once a week
usually on a Saturday Night.
The Chippy was on our road
you could smell Fish in the air
'can we have a bag of Scratchings'
a bit of spare Cod if we dare.
The Fish and Chip shop
as British as cups of Teas
who can resist a bag of chips
and some nice Mushy Peas?
poem by Kevin Halls
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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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Jigsaw
Here we hear that a perch stands for fish or for pole, -
though this pole can be twenty four feet long or square –
or a pole upon which
a kingfisher can perch
before diving to fish for his dinner dish.
Don’t consider it rude if we add that a rood
is the same as a perch, or a pole or a rod,
and a rood is a Cross, so please don’t become cross
as we must get across that this cross can be square, -
and this square cross can lengthwise be measured – so there!
A pole, too, is a fish, somewhat flounderish
with fine fins which swish and a face like a dish.
Thus kingfisher must fish for his dish, and that dish is a dish,
so lets face it in anguish, - a dish is a dish is a fish!
As a face is a head, and a head is a poll
which tells who is ahead, or shows what each prole
thought of what someone said:
and a wat, as all know, is a temple Cambo –
all the sages who sow seeds of wisdom say, - oh,
to all this don’t say ‘No! ’
Then watt brings us a light which shines down in the night, -
though this seems ‘out of sight’, you should now see the light, -
that kingfishers alight as they perch on their pole
ere they pounce on their poll
for to search for their perch,
for the soul of the sole in the shoal.
What rude fishermen do
before rod poles align
with a line from their perch to their perch.
Like the kingfisher too, bird of brilliant hue,
is our parrot, Poll, who is no stranger to you.
When he’s not being rude he tends somewhat to brood
or repeat through and through, as in these lines I do.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Crocodile That Ate Computers
There once was a cute crocodile
He lived happily in the River Nile
He liked the river a lot and its fish
Was really his favourite daily dish.
Since school was less his favourite
He remained for a long time illiterate
How to catch fish though he knew
Albeit his days in class were very few.
But a good tutor taught him math
A genius and polymath
The teacher earnest, tried his best
Explained everything with great zest.
Yet his student was always hungry
He could listen only hardly
Once he swallowed two computers
And found tasty all the numbers.
poem by Paul Hartal
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A Delicious Fish's Wishes
Fish, fish, what do you wish?
To each his own,
BUT
I wish
for a fish
on a dish
(mmm... delish!)
'Ah, pish! '
says the darned fish.
'I wish to be
in the sea
swimming free
and...
perhaps...
drinking...
so me...
tea? '
(muttered he,
dreamily.)
'But all in all, just me being me.'
But suddenly!
A bee
stung me
on the knee
(ouch! said I. er, me)
Back to earth with Bree!
And I'm left to wonder
If me the fish would berate
Were he not lying postrate
dead
on my plate...
poem by Breanna Cazalet
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A Whale Of A Poem
Recently,
As stories go,
A tale was told,
About an old man,
And a fish,
He really wasn't a real fish!
He was a whale you know!
Anyways,
It seems that fish shallowed the man,
And inside the fish he did live,
Seven days and seven nights.
Oh what a fright,
That man did go through,
He inside of a fish,
Could have easily ended up his dish.
That story although a whopper,
I thought could not have been top,
Except in the second grade,
A student chimed in,
Oh great, now I know where my dad has been!
poem by Nadalia Bagratuni
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Aquarium Fun
Have you ever seen an aquarium
With fancy fish swimming around?
Well I saw the most wonderful
Aquarium that I’ve ever found
Every color you can imagine
You’d find in a fish tank were there
Beautiful background for those fish
Not a single thing was spared
The cat fish were so enormous
You could imagine them in a pan
Fryin’ up so crispy brown
So tasty they’d never be bland
But instead we just enjoyed
Watching these fish on display
Swimming ‘round and ‘round
I once even saw them in play
I hope sometime if you haven’t
Been to an aquarium like this
Can observe their beauty as I did
These delightful and colorful fish!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Dark Temptation
When the sweet dish
just melts in one’s mouth
one then tends to cherish
the tasty chocolate mousse
When one drinks milkshake
especially the chocolate one
one says, ”What a tasty make! ”
and asks” How was it done? ”
When one eats a chocolate cake
they say, ”The cake was damn good”
they ask”Please tell us how it was baked
So that we can make it if we could”
But what is the main ingredient
in these superb deserts?
“Its chocolate”- THE BRILLIANT
that adds magic to these deserts
the dish then due to chocolate
becomes a temptation
and even though one is not hungry to eat a plate
he cannot undergo any restrictions
As just the sight of chocolate
makes one’s mouth to water
one is just then unable to stop oneself
and eats it like a mad-eater
It’s the taste, the taste that makes it different
the taste that’s beyond description
Hence chocolate is and will be and will always be meant
to be:
THE WORLD’S GREATEST TEMPTATION
poem by Hansika Subramanian
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Animal Rights (A Restaurant Sold Fried Fish Cruelly)
In Taiwan, there was a restaurant,
sale promotion gimmick of which was very abhorrent.
It was a smoky fried fish,
a spicy and good -smelled dish.
There was a glass fish pond,
swimming in it were fish...big, fat and long.
Beside it was a fish net,
by which the chef would catch.
Then he quickly removed the scale with a knife,
and on the body he cut and sprinkled with salt and spice,
while the fish was still alive.
Then with wet towel he grabbed the fish head,
while the gill huffing and puffing to catch the breath.
Into the sizzling hot oil, the body was slowly dipped,
which in painful agony, flapped and flipped.
The fish struggled in a desperate attempt,
causing the hot oil to splash,
onto the chef's hand,
making him cry in pain as if the world was going to end.
Before the fried fish was going to be served,
he put into the mouth of it the lighted cigarette,
an act so sickening,
horrifying and disgusting.
Then the Animal Rights Group lodged a strong protest.
The chef was afraid his business got into the red.
removed that dish from the list of menu.
He was almost legally sued,
making his mood get into the blue.
The chef sells the fish in a way so cruel and selfish,
to the animals he shows pity, not a little bit.
Brenda's Lonely Fish
I am a tiny flame of gold
That flickers in a jar
I see the world in circles
Eyes watch me from afar
But I can only swim all day
In circles round and around
Out of the glass I see the world
But cannot hear a sound
Trapped inside a goldfish bowl
I swim round and around
I can never catch my tail
Or swim into the sea
Forever watched by strangers eyes
Alone and never free
The world is waiting somewhere
In a river rushing by
Full of fishes big and small, leaping up to touch the sky
But I can only wonder as I swim around all day
Inside my shiny glassy globe
At all thoses fishes out there at play
My mother is called Brenda
She won me at a fete
She's twenty stone and five foot one
And needs to lose some weight
Because I am a tiddler she said
I'll eat that fish
I'll fry that little tiddler
He'll make a tasty dish
For what's the point of keeping
One fish inside a glass?
Without a mate he's miserable
His life span's cut by half
So I'm being humane
To ease his pain, at last
I know I'm vegetarian
But one fishy dish can pass
I'll fry him quick in olive oil
With some nice brown onion rings
On a bed of rice he'll taste real nice
And he won't feel a thing
For death it comes to all of us
But for him it's not too soon
For their's no future for a lonely fish
Trapped in a bowl in my front room.
Of course I could take him to the pond
But the cat is sure to get him
He's better of inside my gut
Then it's easy to forget him!
poem by Yvette Smith
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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
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Fish ‘n Chips - Food of Life
Oh how I crave for fish ‘n chips:
Our fine cuisine of world renown.
I dined on such a subtle dish
When QEII received her crown.
Oh how I need some fish ‘n chips;
I'll queue in pouring rain or snow!
What better way to warm my hands,
As soggy chips make fingers glow.
We Brits are famed for culinary finesse,
Like steak ‘n kidney pud no less;
Wondrous tripe; cottage pie;
Bangers and egg in lard to fry!
But fish ‘n chips - the crowning glory -
A dish to trounce the great kebab!
You think I care for chicken masala?
It's cod and chips that grow my flab.
Oh how I yearn for fish ‘n chips,
All poshly wrapped in the Daily Star,
Then caked and drowned in salt ‘n vinegar -
And stinking out my brand new car!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Food food food food food food food of life
Food food food food food food food of life
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Fish - 0093 - Current version after Bryan Waller Procter Pre-Existence
I sit beside the spring and wish
I had a silver tail,
so up the stream my trail could swish,
sunlight upon each scale,
till by some bay my school of fish
might spot a trawler's trail,
which, followed, must tense anguish net -
woe to temptatios sail!
Who would provide a tasty dish
one morn at market sale,
fed as fritters - perish first
scales weighed upon some scale,
no dawn to spawn or to cherish?
I blubber like a whale...
the thought sends shivers, - feverish
from seashore I turn tail
such crass ambitions vanish swift -
so here I leave my tale!
(18 June 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Fishermans Will
A Fisherman's Will
I have eaten catfish in more ways than one
Fish that is blackened is not over done
Bass done over a grill with butter basting
Fish balls fried are really tasty
I have had days I caught more fish than I could contain
Then there were days I didn't get a bite and it rained
Memories of Dads and trips where we bonded
Caught some that could have been mounted
Romance and fishing don't go together well
Poles and pools on days hotter than hell
I've never make a good fisher of men
But I have found fishing gives me a grin
So when I die I ask you please
Put my body in a river or sea
Let the fish then eat off me,
So I may return the favor, please!
This is my request in my:
Fisherman's Will
Jim 1989
poem by James Casey
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Penguin Paradice
Each penguin's such a precious thing,
Content to honk all day!
Each wide-webbed foot, each floppy wing,
To them, they're quite OK.
The water's cold! They walk on ice!
Do you hear them complain?
To them, this place is Paradise!
They say, 'No p.p.p.pain, no g.g.g.gain! '
You won't catch me in ice cold sea
And gobbling ice cold fish!
They'd soon lose all their novelty -
They're not the ideal dish...
The easy life, that's all I want -
Not fish day in, day out...
My choice in every restaurant!
Yes, that's what life's about!
And central heating suits me fine
And clothes and jewels, too...
Some champagne or some fancy wine
And then I'll muddle through.
But fish, fish, fish would drive me mad!
I'd soon curl up my lips!
With no potatoes to be had,
There'd be no fish and chips!
No telly and no radio,
No papers to peruse...
Live as a penguin? No, thank you!
This human life I'd choose...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Penguin Paradise
Each penguin's such a precious thing,
Content to honk all day!
Each wide-webbed foot, each floppy wing,
To them, they're quite OK.
The water's cold! They walk on ice!
Do you hear them complain?
To them, this place is Paradise!
They say, 'No p.p.p.pain, no g.g.g.gain! '
You won't catch me in ice cold sea
And gobbling ice cold fish!
They'd soon lose all their novelty -
They're not the ideal dish...
The easy life, that's all I want -
Not fish day in, day out...
My choice in every restaurant!
Yes, that's what life's about!
And central heating suits me fine
And clothes and jewels, too...
Some champagne or some fancy wine
And then I'll muddle through.
But fish, fish, fish would drive me mad!
I'd soon curl up my lips!
With no potatoes to be had,
There'd be no fish and chips!
No telly and no radio,
No papers to peruse...
Live as a penguin? No, thank you!
This human life I'd choose...
poem by Denis Martindale
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