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Venture a small fish to catch a much greater one.
Persistently Pursuing Piscine Protein
Once again whilst fishing at the beach,
The fish they all stayed out of reach,
I think they knew that I was there,
And so my fish bag it stayed bare.
Nothing in there for me to eat,
The scaly ones had me beat,
But such is the nature of this fisherman,
I'll be trying again as soon as I can,
And next time I'll catch fish a' plenty,
Not going home with my fish bag empty.
This optimism keeps shining bright,
No matter how often on a cold wet night,
I venture out and fail to catch,
I know next time will be game, set, and match.
To me the stupidly determined one,
Who keeps on fishing when all hope is gone!
Tom Higgins 19/11/2012
poem by Tom Higgins
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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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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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Blonde curly head
When you run joyous into the garden
the whole world lies open before you
while it's autumn, leaves are stripped from branches
and you look great-eyed at the small lizard
where it hides in a small hole in the wall,
and you notice a pool with big Koi fish
that watches you from beneath the water of the pond
and then you try to touch and feel
with your small hands and the water is cool,
while you catch a small frog
and press that animal against your cheek,
while it feels as if eternity is lingering there
and suddenly it jumps from your wet hands
as a strange wet thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Car Wash
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(This is a Shark Tale exclusive)
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(Here we go again) (2004)
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(Say what, say what) (phenomenal hit)
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
(Yeah)
Ooh, do do do do do do do
Car wash, car wash
Ooh, do do do do do do do
Car wash, car wash
(Yeah, let's drop it on 'em like this)
Ooh, do do do do do do, na na na ah, ooh
Ooh, do do do do do do, na na na ah, ooh
You might not ever get rich, ha
Let me tell you it's better than digging a ditch
There ain't no telling who you might meet
A movie star or maybe a common thief
Working at the car wash (oh oh, yeah yeah)
At the car wash, yeah (ooh, yeah yeah)
At the car wash (sing it with me now)
Working at the car wash, yeah
(Oh, oh)
Come summer the work gets kind of hard
This ain't no place to be if you're planning on being a star
Let me tell you it's always cool
And the boss don't mind sometimes if you're acting like a fool
Working at the car wash (oh oh, yeah yeah)
At the car wash, yeah (ooh ooh ooh)
At the car wash (ow said, now come and work it with me now, yeah)
Working at the car wash, yeah
Said, said, said, sing
(Work and work)
Well those cars never stop coming
(Work and work)
Keep those rags and machines humming
(Work and work)
My fingers to the bone
(Work and work)
Keep on and can't wait till it's time to go home
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Fill up and you don't have to pay
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today
Give it up, right away
Missy Elliott:
Work at the, car wash
Sharks in the water make they jaws lock
When I swim through the grim, I'm too hot
Y'all can make y'all bets
Y'all small tuna fish, I'm one big catch
Shark slayer, bow down playa
'Cause this right here will be your worst nightmare (nightmare)
Work that, work that, pop back, hurt that
Turn this up and bang it all up in the surface
(Work and work)
9 to 5 I gotta keep that fat stack coming
(Work and work) (work it)
No matter how big the shark is, the right keep running
(Work and work)
Washing cars ain't no place to be a superstar man
(Work and work)
That's why I work, and work
Working at the car wash (ohhh, yeah)
At the car wash, yeah (come on work it, baby work it, say now)
At the car wash (ahh)
Working at the car wash, yeah
So come on, come on, come on, come on, come on
Ooh, do do do do do do, na na na ah, ooh
(Now keep it coming)
Ooh, do do do do do do (woo, so), na na na ah, ooh
(You may not ever get rich, but hey)
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today (hey)
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today
(Ooh ooh ooh)
Hey, get your car washed today (phenomenal hit)
song performed by by Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
The Lion Never Sleeps
The Lion watches its prey
It's the pursued and the pursued
But which is which
As Nature plays
The game
Sometimes the hunter
Becomes the prey
Not knowing that
What is most apparent, Isn't at all.
Until in the final moment
The game is revealed
And the aggressor is
Captured, ending the play.
The nesting osprey
Need feed the hungry mouths
And pursues fish in the still waters
Of the nearby pond.
But neither a fish too large nor too small
Will be selected for the nestling's hungry malls
So the osprey circles overhead
Watching the larger fish pursue the small.
She selects the one
Near the surface for her quick
Descent and snatch
Away from the panicked school
And with a flutter of strong wings
The talons grasp the unsuspecting one
That till the moment was the
One pursuing the ones that flee.
Away she struggles with her catch
Back to the nestlings
Where this fish will add to their growing hunger,
Till they emerge to catch their own.
And the lion never sleeps.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
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We went to a small lake, Bass Lake. It was beautiful. It was perfectly still when we got there in the morning. The fog was lifting off the water. It was just magical. And we did catch some fish, 13 fish.
quote by Jennifer Granholm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jigger
Jigger was a fisherman
and only had one wish
he really really wanted
to catch a friggin Fish
he fished for 39 years
didn't even get a nibble
after all his tears
he mouth began to dribble
On one warm sunny afternoon
he drew out his rod, was late June
low and behold on his line was a fish
after, he saw it was dead,
he had only one more wish
that he would never catch another fish
poem by David Darbyshire
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The Study In Aesthetics
The very small children in patched clothing,
Being smitten with an unusual wisdom,
Stopped in their play as she passed them
And cried up from their cobbles:
Guarda! Ahi, guarda! Ch’ è be’ a!
But three years after this
I heard the young Dante, whose last name I do not
know--
For there are, in Sirmione, twenty-eight young Dantes
and thirty-four Catulli;
And there had been a great catch of sardines,
And his elders
Were packing them in the great wooden boxes
For the market in Brescia, and he
Leapt about, snatching at the bright fish
And getting in both of their ways;
And in vain they commanded him to stafermo!
And when they would not let him arrange
The fish in the boxes
He stroked those which were already arranged,
Murmuring for his own satisfaction
This identical phrase:
Ch’ è be’ a
And at this I was mildly abashed.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Walking And Fishing
an early morning walk is like
a fishing venture where you sail with your boat alone on the waters
you wait and some ripples come
and then you remember
you catch fish, you stumble upon a stone
you take hold of each, and then the ripples are gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pierre The Penquin
'I have just been swimming to catch my fish. I have 3, I love fish it is absolutely delicious, I don’t want them cooked, I can’t see the sense in that, I will eat them raw one by one and savor every bite. They are cold and slippery to slide down my throat. I will eat my fish first, then I might go for another swim, or I might go for a snooze for a while.'
Who knows?
Pierre the penguin has just been swimming,
to catch his evening meal.
He does not need a boat for this,
or a rod or reel.
He can swim very fast,
and catch his fish quite easily.
Pierre is well equipped for this,
has you all can see.
He has a flipper on each leg,
that makes him very strong.
So, when he goes swimming,
he can stay out there quite long.
The fish are cold and slippery,
to slide down Pierre's throat.
The oil in the fish,
gives Pierre his lovely coat.
After his meal,
he might go for another swim,
or he might go for a snooze.
Which one do you think,
Pierre, should really choose?
poem by Pamela lutwyche
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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.
How To Fish
I was brought up in a way to fish for myself,
Since i was taught how to fish;
So train up your child how to fish!
For today i am a very rich man.
Today is the day of training and tomorrow you will catch fish,
For yesterday is gone by with the experiences of life!
But i can see eyes like the eyes of men around me.
There are thieves all over the world and,
There are adulterers all over too;
But i am on a daily mission to teach the truth,
So enter the narrow gate with your love.
I am like the legend of your life and of your past,
And i am like the man who never lost in town!
But my sweet love is not for sale,
Because i was taught how to catch fish!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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My First Fishing Trip
Went with dad to Port Isabel to learn to fish,
‘Cause to catch a fish I told him that I did wish.
So to Purdy’s Court fishing pier,
We went with all our fishing-gear.
Yes, that fishing trip with dad I’ll always cherish!
There we were, him giving me casting instruction,
Then he baited my hook with a live crustacean,
I cast out high in the sky.
To catch a big fish to fry,
But instead, caught a sea gull - as consolation!
poem by Bobby Beddoe
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Fish Fever
This week end I went fishing
A fish in mind to catch
I went wishing, wishing, wishing
To catch a perfect catch
I wanted to catch the big one
The one that always gets away
I waited under the hot, hot sun
I waited for that fish all day
Then there was a pull on my line
The pull so full of magic
It made me think mine, mine, mine
Me, the fisherwoman classic
This fish was big I could feel
Big and strong, a winners tale
All I had to do was reel, reel, reel
In order not to fail
Me and this fish fought a moment
Tugging and yanking, pulling and reeling
Until I screamed net! Net! NET!
Is this a winners feeling?
In that moment I knew that it was this
The moment I caught the one that got away
I caught it, I caught it, I caught it
Fishing fever is what I caught that day
poem by Cheré Mason
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The Birds
the birds, sparrows and robins
and some herons
are flying on the blue sky
you watch them
a robin comes near you
and makes a stare
the white heron glides
past your face and flies
away without much ado
a sparrow feeds on your palm
and after all the grains are
consumed it goes its way
north and finally the kingfisher
which is late tries to give
you its catch, a small fish.
you see the difference
and then you go south,
i mean, the difference,
towards another direction,
that one that gives and not
the one that takes,
the one that thinks about
others
and not more about oneself.
you are supposed to be that
a giver not a taker.
one bird has shown you
with a very small fish and
that was enough to feed
you in another long and lonely
journey: south.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On An April Evening In The Fall
With folded wings the fishing gannets plunge into the sea
And the nuggety old man with fishing rod was waiting patiently
For a fish to bite as the incoming waves splashed quite close to his feet
And each new wave it came surging in as each old wave did retreat.
Have you been catching many fish today? of the fisherman I inquired
Not been doing too well today mate the old fellow replied
I've yet to catch a fish today, sometimes in the rising tide
From cover they don't venture out between the rocks they hide.
I'll stay another hour he said at least until twilight
The wife would like a good sized fish to cook for tea tonight
Still I don't like my chances much it's a quarter after four
I'll stay till a quarter after five and not one second more
The silver gulls cry on the beach the angry ocean roar
The gannets fishing on the bay, the old man from the shore
And people walking on the beach before their evening tea
On a sunny evening in April in the Fall by the Pacific sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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