Throw a resourceful person into a river, and he will probably come out with a fish in his hand.
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He is walking by a river
Feeling worse and worse by the minute
One second he is looking at the river
The next he is in it
The icy cold water pulling him down
His screams starting to make no sound.
He keeps fighting, kicking, howling
It was no use
The river was going to send him down
It would laugh in his ear
Knowing his struggle was useless
Though the boy was clueless.
It was decided that
That was all he could take
Letting his mind go numb
For his nerovs's sake
He is submerged in the water
Hearing a final laugh of victory
Just a bunch of mockery
From the stuipd river
nothing could be less civil
Down underwater
he could see many fish
And they looked kind of bothered
'Do not let the river win! '
a fish cried to him
'But I cannot swim no more
and you are just one fish' he sighed
The fish smiled 'Yes, but help can grow'
All the fish gathered around
And now the river no longer pulling him down
He gasped for air
Now he could see
That the poeple who really care
are the ones who can really help me.
Heart turn to Tilapia
Joh gave Mou small
roasted tilapia fish
Small as it’s
Mou rejected tilapia in greed
And threw it in to river
fat and savoury soaked Mou palm
Mou looked and smelled his palm
He licked his palm
‘’why you throw fish away
And you lick your hand’’
Joh asked
‘’I am not licking but washing ‘’
‘’why don’t you use water’’
‘’my tongue can clean better than water’’
Mou said
What irony
poem by David Aoloch Bion

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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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Throw It Away
Wake up this mornin and the papers on the mat
Poor getting poorer and the rich are getting fat again
Up in the towers all the bosses sitting sneezing
A half asleep and the rest all start to squeezing
Dont worry bout it baby, dont try to understand
You got your answer in your hand, throw it away
Throw it away, throw it away
Throw it away, throw it away
Wake up this morning theres a letter on the mat
Big brother wanna know where little brothers at again
Life is a peace of paper, goes on forever
Sign on the dotted line or end up in the river drowned
Dont worry bout it baby
Dont try to understand
You got the answer in your hand
Throw it away
song performed by by Joe Jackson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you give a person a fish, they'll fish for a day. But if you train a person to fish, they'll fish for a lifetime.
quote by Dan Quayle

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Throw him into the river and he will come up with a fish in his mouth.
Fish Deeper, says HE
Rainy days chill makes me lazy here in my cabin
Only croaks of frogs, I hear, singing with no rhythm,
Snails crawl on the ground; earthworms are visible in my garden
Used them as baits, to the river I went for some fishing.
Yet water running from slopes makes the river cold
No fish on surface, they swim deep and avoid,
I stayed hours while singing 'Raindrops Keeps Fallin' in my Head'
But nay, no fish eats my bait; can I just shoot them, instead?
Sam said true, 'Fish deep, fear not to plunge deep
Fulfillment is gained; why not face your fear,
Swim and play, water is enticing, dear
Water holds fun and lots from it to keep! '
I like to catch fish, though I cannot swim deep
Neither kill a fish, take off its intestines and gills,
Scaling it, cook and eat it in zest
I'd prefer catching fish and throw it back, I guess!
Hmn...I think I prefer it as a sport than feed
Yet I have naughty thoughts as I do the deed,
If my man was here, he may join me as we catch fish
Ha ha! Can we make love before we eat the main dish? (Wink)
poem by InNer WhisPers

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Anim
I was born by the river and l live by this river,
For at the age of five i fell in love to the river.
I was married at the age of fifteen to a fisherman,
And i've never been to school before;
But my only education is with this river.
The name of my husband is Anim and,
We live by this river;
For my birth and life are all based by this river!
But today, i am old with my children born on this river.
At dawn i go out with my canoe to catch some fish,
And i have a hook to catch some fish at daylight as well;
For this river had been my life ever since.
My husband is a fisherman and,
I was married to him at fifiteen;
And we've lived all our lives on this river.
This is my home and homw of my children,
This is my way of life and of the people around me,
For this river is all that i know in this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Our Future Leader
Can you imagine?
What kind of person will become a leader
on two years from now?
Is that should be a professor?
Is that should be like a religious people?
Is that should be like a lovely person?
Is that should be a too kind and generous people?
Is that should be like a strict and rude people?
A leader is like a gold fish inside aquarium
People will see from many side
Sometimes it looks so cute
Sometimes it looks so ugly
Sometimes it looks so brightly
But you know, it still gold fish
No one can deny it
This fish never bother what people think
This fish only think that it has part
To bring a nice view inside aquarium
I think our future leader should be like that
Because if we choose them it means
This person can be seen from many sides
And this is our fish
We should trust it and be a good viewer
Dams On The Cuyahoga
Just west
of the Lake,
meanders
the burning river.
The river
in my dreams.
The river on fire.
The river
that oozes
rather than flows.
The river
in which
a person
does not drown
but decays.
And there
the river sits,
waiting for me
to come back home.
poem by Holden Solo

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A River Dies
a river dies choked to gills
expiring upon industrial waste
sadly as the river dies the fish die also
oxygen starved extinguished
life was a web of light upon the water
life web torn broken discarded
water breathed life into river flowing
man breathed in death river choking
oxygen rich river was flush with fish
smell taste drink putrid pollution
poem by Terence George Craddock

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A River Flows
Where does the river flow
if not to you?
How deep its depths
if these
are not yours?
How broad is the river bank?
Broad enough
for the tug-boats
to push my heart along.
If there are fish in the river,
they sing your name
open-mouthed,
fish-style,
making tiny bubbles float
up, up to the river surface
where they pop
spread
announcing to the Firmament
that Love lives just below
the deep river flows.
Yes, you and I
are the river;
we flow,
run deep
down to that
ocean-mix
in which
our souls
swirl.
Mix me then
in depths deep.
Mix you then
amid this ocean sweep
and all else,
for me
becomes meaningless
so great
is our Soul Mixed
Ocean Bliss.
poem by Lonnie Hicks

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Drawing A River
when you draw a river
the river begins
to draw also a fish
the fish shall
sketch a moss
the moss
paints the missing
green
then you have what
your river wants
a place where you
want to
ponder about a sky
come to think again
now draw
a very white sky
take a pen and a very
wide paper....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 24
A weak fisherman caught a strong fish in his net and not being able to retain it the fish overcame him and pulled the net from his hand.
A boy went to bring water from the torrent.
The torrent came and took the boy away.
The net brought every time a fish.
This time the fish went and carried off the net.
The other fishermen were sorry and blamed him for not being able to retain such a fish which had fallen into his net. He replied: ‘O brothers, what can be done? My day was not lucky but the fish had yet one remaining. ‘Moral: A fisherman cannot catch a fish in the Tigris without a day of luck and a fish cannot die on dry ground without the decree of fate.
My Unseen Friend 2
The unseen spirit ever walks by me
Neither in front of me nor at my back!
His concerns are genuine.
The unseen spirit often chuckles.
At times he sings chimes into my ears.
He leaves me not, a mischievous guy indeed!
There we see a blue river far
With banks vast and sandy
The unseen spirit and I walk towards it.
There I think of catching a fish
There are no fish in the river though.
There he becomes a fish for me!
Tell me - who are you?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair

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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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The River that Slowly Rills
The Big Fish finds his lunch, and kills
In the river that slowly rills
The victim, caught up in the flood
First of water, now of blood
Death comes to him in blowing chills
While the river slowly rills
We see the blue is mixed with red
The prey surely now is dead
The carnivore has shown his skills
While the river slowly rills
The day has only just begun
Once of two fish, now of one
A strange home for slaught'ring gills
The river that slowly, slowly rills
poem by Bobby Crawford

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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

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Pisces Fish
Rowers gliding on the river
Canadian geese crap along the bank
Back wheel of my bike begins to quiver
The chain is wrapped around the crank
Old ladies, who must be doggie training
Walking, throwing balls, chasing all the sheep
While the farmer stands around, and hes complaining
His mad cows are being put to sleep
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Smoke signals from the brewery
Like someone in there found the latest Pope
In a vat of beer that keeps pumping out with fury
While the church bell ringers trangled in his rope
But theres a temple on an island
I think of all the Gods and what they feel
You can only find them in the deepest silence
Ive got to get off of this big wheel
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
And Ill be swimming until I can find those waters
Thats the one unbounded ocean of bliss
Thats flowing through your parents, sons and daughters
But still an easy thing for us to miss
Blades go skimming through the water
I hear the coxon shouting his instructions about
With this crew oh, it could be a tall order
Have we time to sort all these things out ?
Sometimes my life it feels like fiction
Some of the days its really quite serene
Im a living proof of all lifes contradictions
One halfs going where the other halfs just been
And Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
song performed by by George Harrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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