The company of the wicked is like living in a fish market; one becomes used to the foul odor.
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The Sailor and the Market Man
'I ask you to see reason'
Says the sailor who is stern;
'You know full well that from the sea
A living I must earn;
I'll bother you to shake on it,
I haven't got all day;
Come on now make your mind up,
It ain't a lot to pay! '
'My friend, your price is far too high'
The market-man declares,
'Go find another buyer now
Who'll rid you of your wares.
I know the fish you bring to sell
Are fat and fresh and sound,
But I must make a living too
By watching every pound.'
The sailor and the market-man
They argue every day,
As if there's no tomorrow,
And each must have his say.
The sailor and the market-man
At odds they'll always be,
Until they've taken all
The little fishes from the sea.
Written Dec 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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Conscience's functions
The nose smells when the odour changes.
The conscience pricks when the wrong enters.
The nose goes silent after the change stays.
The conscience goes dumb after the wrong stays.
Entering the fish market,
You will smell the fish.
Staying in the fish market,
You will no longer feel it.
08.04.2012.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Lion's den
If you are staying
With a wicked man
If you are living
With a wicked man
If you are making
Friendship with wicked man
Be sure you are walking
In to the lion's den.
Wicked man is dangerous
Wicked man is more
Dangerous than a snake
Wicked man is more poisonous
Than a cobra the most
Poisonous snake of the world
You may survive from snake bite
But you can not survive from
The clutches of a wicked man
You will die in his den.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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An Old Woman With A Straw Hat
an old woman with a straw hat
and rotten clothes
deep eyes
bony cheeks
barefooted and cracking lips
and stinking odor
like a dead fish thrown
on the market canal
this morning as i meet her
is asking me
who is the owner of the sky
and the earth
and the sea and the mountains
and the grass
and the trees and the birds
and goats and pigs and
root crops
she is asking me where he lives
and if he is still alive
she has many questions for the owner
of all these
for until now
she remains to own nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Optimistic
Flies are buzzing around my head
Vultures circling the dead
Picking up every last crumb
The big fish eat the little ones
The big fish eat the little ones
Not my problem give me some
You can try the best you can
If you try the best you can
The best you can is good enough
(x2)
This one's optimistic
This one went to market
This one just came out of the swamp
This one dropped a payload
Fodder for the animals
Living on an animal farm
If you try the best you can
If you try the best you can
The best you can is good enough
(x2)
I'd really like to help you man
I'd really like to help you man.....
Nervous messed up marionette
Floating around on a prison ship
If you try the best you can
If you try the best you can
The best you can is good enough
If you try the best you can
If you try the best you can
Dinosaurs roaming the earth (x3)
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wet Whiskered Fishured Cat Caught Nothin' But An Empty Paw.
Tis' be fish-a fish of mine...
One that flips inside a pan o'thine.
That cat that swatted at a fish astray...
That cat had not caught a one'a fish that day.
Into the watery drink that cat did fall....
Kitty Kat-Kitty Kat is what he'd heard one call.
Inside the house he found me stearn...
But with fish in a pan he found to me to of learn.
Right off to market had i gone...
The Kitty Kat ate his share of fish b'fore fallen to
a sleep aft' last let out tired out, yawn.
Do you see? ...
Ssshhhhh!
ZZZZZZZeeee Zeee Zeee zzzz
zzzz
zzz! ! !
poem by Michael Gale
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Something Wicked
Something wicked this way come
Something wicked this way come
Something wicked this way come
Something wicked this way come
Something wicked this way come
Something wicked this way come
More than an adversary I'm very quick
I'm ready to hit 'em with this gift
I'm equipped to kick
Grab you coat and you hat
song performed by by Tupac from 2Pacalypse Now
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to Odor
Oh, odor...
From where does thou cometh.
With your abrupt pungentness?
To lay so distinctly...
In once fresh air!
And...
Upon unexpecting noses,
With such effective attention...
You have manage to get and be given,
In a suspecting collectiveness.
Oh oh odor!
Fanning you...
Is a pointless act.
When you come to attack the senses...
There is a determination noticeably gained.
And the agony to breathe freely...
Is devoid of any patience!
Any...
That remains.
And so foolish are the aspects of retaliation.
Oh...
Odor!
You ought to go!
But where shall you go?
Odor...
You are so unwanted.
Since you came in through...
Closed doors and windows,
With that uninvited ooze...
You meant to leave.
It looks as if...
There is no choice but to wait,
Until you fade away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nothing To Tell, Begin With A Mermaid Story
Accept the fact
The fear that you have nothing to tell anymore
To amuse yourself
writers' block, shutting up, windows closing,
doors locked, mind shrinking,
like the fish vendor who sells rumors & rotten stories
To the streets
You go to the fish market today
Not buying any fish or selling any or even touching gills
so you can breathe
You’re looking for some
Salt
Taking notes of the fish scales discarded
Trashed
Some fish bones & broken fins
some fishermen catching
Broken hearts on their small eyed nets
You go back with fish fins
And fish tails, thicked lippes and round moving eyes
You will start with a mermaid story today.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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440
Accept the fact
The fear that you have nothing to tell anymore
To amuse yourself
writers' block, shutting up, windows closing,
doors locked, mind shrinking,
like the fish vendor who sells rumors & rotten stories
To the streets
You go to the fish market today
Not buying any fish or selling any or even touching gills
so you can breathe
You’re looking for some
Salt
Taking notes of the fish scales discarded
Trashed
Some fish bones & broken fins
some fishermen catching
Broken hearts on their small eyed nets
You go back with fish fins
And fish tails, thick lips and round moving eyes
You will start with a mermaid story today.
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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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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I am a Man Now
I catch a fish in my hand
And do not let it go.
The fish stands for luck;
The juju that wicked people
Have been doing
To tie down my progress
Is waning fast.
I am mastering the tide,
My eyes clear;
I see the road a mile off,
I am a man now.
poem by Samuel Nze
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I Am A Wicked Child
Mother mary come to me
Cause I am a wicked child
I have sinned and I am so confused and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
I am the devils son and I wish I could be good for you
I walk a crooked mile
but I wish I could be good
I wish I could be good
If I could have kept the straight and narrow
If I could have kept the straight and narrow
And not have broke your heart
Not have broke your heart
Now I wake up in the night
Lying on my bed
It's tugging at my arms and legs
Like I was a marionette
Send baby Jesus
Surely it is time
Send baby jesus
Let him radiate his light
Radiate his light
lyrics from 24-03-2000 webcast:
I am the devils son and I wish I could be good for you
broke your heartwicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
because I am a wicked child
and I deserve to go to hell
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child & I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a..
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O That Sweet Scented Smell of Youth!
How sad it turns automatically
Into the foul odor of mysterious death!
Beloved! Don't loose the intimacy,
Still we're young in our hearts!
And let's walk together
Though it's a gravel road
Just imagine a smooth grassy land!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Wind, One Brilliant Day
The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.
'In return for the odor of my jasmine,
I'd like all the odor of your roses.'
'I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead.'
'Well then, I'll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.'
the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
'What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?'
poem by Antonio Machado
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City Stench
walking...
I listen
grit
grinding
between
shoe
and
pavement-
dampness
brings
the smell
of this
decayed city
to life
it pulsates
it pulsates
throbbing through me
Sometimes
I think,
'I should
have been a
fuckin' farmer'
But this is
the stench
I know,
not that
of
animal feces
and
chemical
fertilizer
This cities
foul odor
breathes life
into my
calcified veins
at death,
don't bury
me in a field
of wild flowers
or
6 feet under
plush
manicured lawn...
a dumpster
littered with
the
debris of
the living
will do
fine
T. Labbe`
Thanks To The Rolling Sea
(words & music by batchelor - roberts)
Thanks to the rolling, rolling, rolling, thanks to the rolling sea
Thanks to the rolling, rolling, rolling, thanks to the rolling sea
Fish on the table and fish on the fire, fried fish hanging on the tree
Everything here that your heart desires, thanks to the rolling sea
Thanks to the rolling sea
Living is good and living is fine, were happy as can be
We owe all this to the salty brine, thanks to the rolling sea
Thanks to the rolling sea
We work all day but our hearts are gay, and while we work we sing
The mighty sea is good to us and weve got everything
Abalone steaks and tuna fish cakes, taste so heavenly
We know who we owe it to, thanks to the rolling sea
Thanks to the rolling, rolling, rolling, thanks to the rolling sea
Thanks to the rolling, rolling, rolling, thanks to the rolling sea
Thanks to the rolling, rolling, rolling, thanks to the rolling sea
Thanks to the rolling, rolling, rolling, thanks to the rolling sea
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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