Fishing is much more than fish. It is the great occasion when we may return to the fine simplicity of our forefathers.
quote by Herbert Hoover
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fishing For A Friend
when you go to fish
go fishing for the finest kind
which good anglers always do.
if you're looking for a fine fish
you must choose the purest lake
in which good anglers fish.
if you catch a fine fish
try not to let it get away
good anglers real them in.
you must bring your fish home
a fine fish will quench your hunger
after a long day fishing.
(January,2010, Omar Ibrahim)
(revised by MR.Ronald Peat)
poem by Omar Ibrahim
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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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5. Gone Fishing
Fishermen cast out their nets
We all in turn go fishing
Some will use a rod and line
While others fish by wishing
Some wish for so many things
Like numbers in a line
If the line is lacking some
Next time they say that’s fine
Others fish for gossip
So they can tell to others
No escape for anyone
Not even someone’s brothers
Fishing for a missing sock
The washer won’t release
Hiding out behind the drum
With fluff and bits of fleece
You see we all go fishing
Not always using bait
Just cast a line for what you want
Then settle down and wait
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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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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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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Last thoughts for 2009
Ice Fishing
Before the fishing someone ought
to give the little fish a thought.
He is our ancestor, without
him we would all be pencilled out.
And sometimes we are fish, in fact
I've caught some judges in the act.
LRH
12.31.09
poem by Linda Hepner
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Steal
A fishing rod
Stretch into the fishing pond slightly
Sneaking the child
Look around furtively
He did not see
I was at the window
Seeing him
knocked on the window
Ran away the child
Leave a fishing rod
I saw a mouse
Run away like a rushing smoke
The fishing rod
Hung on the iron railing and swayed
Nor fish no fishing rod
The child
The first lesson in life
A cost of stealing
poem by Catherine Yen
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If you want to maintain a sustainable supply of fish you have to farm the fish, rather than mine them. So putting your money into fishing fleets that are going to exacerbate the problem by over-fishing is not the way to preserve the underlying asset.
quote by Maurice Strong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandpa's Lake
He was sitting by himself all alone,
Down in a little corner.
Looking out of place, in the funeral home,
And away from all the mourners.
His dad walked up, and I heard him say,
Daddy can I go home?
I don't know why grandpa went away,
But he might be home alone.
I want to be there, when he gets back,
We were going fishing today.
He'll need his hooks and rods, and that burlap sack,
Where he puts the fish away.
His dad looked up, a tear in his eye,
And said 'grandpa's fishing now.'
But it's a great big lake, up in the sky,
And you can't go there right now.
He's fishing with his dad today,
They'll be fishing for some time.
They have a lot to do and say,
Cause to that lake it's a long steep climb.
They haven't seen each other,
In oh, so many years.
And grandpa's glad to see his father,
And both their eyes have tears.
And grandpa's a little boy again,
Just a fishing with his dad.
And on his face there's no more pain,
I hope for him your'e glad.
The little boy just smiled and said,
I guess I'm happy about that.
Yes for grampa I'm very glad,
But for me, I guess I'm sad.
I wanted to go fishing, with my grampa today.
But if you can take me,
To the lake, maybe the bay,
I'll go, my time is free.
I guess I'll wait to fish with grampa,
Till I can make it to his lake.
Maybe he'll find some secret spots,
I sure hope so, for my sake.
1/4/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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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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World’s Fisheries In Deep Crisis
April 2009 stocks
we already knew
world’s fisheries
were in deep crisis
do math shocking
more fishing boats
chase last shrinking
smaller fish stocks
half this world’s
fish caught fishing
we are throwing
back dead or is sales
sold no regard paid
to whether net fish
stock is endangered
or a species bycatch
38 million tonnes
of marine life taken
every year from seas
is not catch intended
target of fishing
vessels numbers
of most popular
species fall rapid
poem by Terence George Craddock
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031210 A Set And A Round
i meet this guy today
for so many years
we used to fish the bay
we drape the sea with nets
caught from flounder to snake
night time when all were asleep
he is visiting from florida
to take care his grands in area
i was surprise he hadn't age bit
i was told fishing is the secret
oh! would i have to buy gill net
to trap those fish as they fled
what will i do with fish, give away
yes, just what we do previously
i have done my fishing journeys
i shifted to playing golf and tennis
few dollars i could buy few pounds
and i could play a set and a round
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Big fish on run for life
Fishing idea's,
in quite watter's
Throwing the hook,
deep inside
The biggest fish;
is yet to be captured
In my fishing tripp,
network site.
The charcoal grill,
it is ready
Fish escape,
imposible fund
The pan in fire,
alway's stedy
So run you fish,
in endless watter's
To have more swim,
for your life.
November 22.2012
Ludovik celaj
poem by Ludovik Celaj
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World Sea Fish Extinction Crisis
13 of 17 global
world fish regions
in extinction crisis
Thailand Indonesia
Australia North Sea
impacts emptying seas
Indonesia 56 million
depend on fishing
native chosen fishing
method blown up dynamite
completely destroy coral
now fish genocide cyanide
symptoms eyes white
skin seared fish dead
in two or three days
poem by Terence George Craddock
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2011 Global Fish Extinction Crisis
Thailand in ten years
total fish catch has halved
Hong Kong
fish extinction epic
Black Fin Tuna
black diamonds
overfishing illegal
13 of 17 global
world fish regions
in extinction crisis
Thailand Indonesia
North Sea Australia
impacts emptying seas
Indonesia 56 million
depend on fishing
native chosen fishing
method blown up dynamite
completely destroy coral
now fish genocide cyanide
symptoms eyes white
skin seared fish dead
in two or three days
coral dead from cyanide
industry fishing suicide
Indonesian fish genocide
global curbside ringside
stupidity fisheries riptide
resource fish stocks died
depleted shanghaied worldwide
welcome event horizon empty seas
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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Sophistication
sophistication amidst the
hunger of the masses
becomes a curse to your
further progress,
soon no native likes the company
of your strictures
no river is willing to carry you to
the other end of the sea
no moon shines upon you
no sun rises on your brow
how many times shall the black bird tell you
in the plainest notes of her ordinary song
simplicity is beauty
there is no other effective tool
to be loved by your
own people
be with them in the most ordinary even of their lives
breakfast consisting of fish and rice and water
and then a very nice conversation about the recent
adventure in fishing
there is no other effective tool than being loved by ordinary people
as they are themselves, so shall you be yourself
no pretensions
no sophistication
just simplicity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ok, Fine, Whatever
ok, you are fine,
and i am fine too,
ok you sit there
and look at me
i also sit here
i can also do
what you do,
ok, fine, you are fine
and i am fine too,
stare at me
and i stare at you
ok, fine,
i am tired,
ok, fine,
i am also one suffering soul,
ok fine,
i know, what to wait
ok fine,
i know what waiting time is
i dont like to wait
but i wait just the same
it has something to do
with what is due me
and when
it has something to do
with what is given
and what i must receive
and return
everything, not
a thing, i return everything
that is given,
ok, i am fine,
i wait, i think, i ponder, i reflect,
i have nothing
to say....my lips are sealed, i like
my mouth shut
i like my spirit silenced
i like it still here, i am not going anywhere.
regards to
God.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fishing Rods, Guns And God
Some say: Give me a fishing rod
so when I start to wish
for food I needn’t pray to God:
I’ll catch myself a fish.
Some think that rifles or revolvers
may solve their problems better,
becoming with such problem solvers
to God a lifer debtor.
All fishing rods are just like guns
in any fish’s eyes,
but I feel merciless when one’s
my dinnertime fish prize.
A bank account won’t save a fish
from dying, but with one
you may prepare a sauce that’s pish,
and not be forced to run
away from cops or into church
or synagogue for aid,
for it won’t leave you in the lurch,
demanding debts be paid.
Inspired by Nicholas Kristof’s Op-Ed in the NYT, December 31,2009 “Sparking a Savings Revolution”) :
There’s an old saying about poverty: Give me a fish, and I’ll eat for a day. Give me a fishing rod, and I’ll eat for a lifetime. There are many variations in that theme. In Somalia, I heard a darker version: If I buy food, I’ll eat for a day. If I buy a gun, I’ll eat every day. But these days, there’s evidence that one of the most effective tools to fight global poverty may be neither a fishing rod nor a gun, but a savings accounts. What we need is a savings revolution. Right now, the world’s poor almost never have access to a bank account. Cash sits around and gets spent — and, frankly, often spent badly.
12/31/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Fishing in the sky
Fishing in the sky
The sun came down to say goodbye
For you don’t need the sun to beam on your shoulders no more
She gives you more than any heat you could ever store
Don’t look back, I was just a heavy hearted sack
Now I’ll get my fishing rod and fish somewhere else
Don’t hold on to my hands, let me get off your back
I thought I had you, but I only ever wish I did
She looks like that missing part of you that you longed for
That missing part of you that I tried to be
She has dry eyes and a fresh smile
She’s the missing piece of your suburban tile
Bury the sand we clasped in our hands
Translate the words we never dared understand
Gather your seeds and say your goodbyes
Pass me the fishing rod, ill fish in the sky
poem by Sara Tehrani
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