If I were a man with gills, I would be a fish!
quote by Ryan Stiles

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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031010 Food Power
i reach the bottom of fish tank
to touch the bottom dweller
stuck to a rock like suction cup
she let me caress her as if she
know me, she's grown a bit
since i bought her at pet shop
this black big head fish i love
she doesn't move that much
i watch her gills close and open
she is always watching me
sometimes i saw her swim
just to get away from other fish
i used to tap the fish tank cover
before feeding them, amazing
every time i tap, they surface
how's that for teaching a fish
food is really powerful thing
just me i can't stop eating
poem by Manonton Dalan

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A Strange Dog
this dog has no eyes, and so it feels most of the time
through its tongue
it believes it comes from the genealogy of the fish
and so its swims
against the current of the river
inventing its own gills
it closes and opens letting all the water of the river pass through
i am not surprised, in fact, i can relate to this dog without eyes
and inventing gills for it to breathe under water
that is what i do, most often than you know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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We Fish
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe.
Our fins are stout,
Our tails are out,
As through the seas we go.
Fish, Fish, we are fish with red gills;
Naught disturbs us, our blood is at zero:
We are buoyant because of our bags,
Being many, each fish is a hero.
We care not what is it, this life
That we follow, this phantom unknown;
To swim, it's exceedingly pleasant,--
So swim away, making a foam.
This strange looking thing by our side,
Not for safety, around it we flee:--
Its shadow's so shady, that's all,--
We only swim under its lee.
And as for the eels there above,
And as for the fowls of the air,
We care not for them nor their ways,
As we cheerily glide afar!
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe:
Our fins are stout,
Our tails are out,
As through the seas we go.
poem by Herman Melville

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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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Fish Again on Friday
Fish again on Friday how predictable is that
It’s getting to the stage I’d rather eat my hat
Gotta grin and bear it, have no other choice
I’ve tried to have my say, but I’m afraid I’ve lost my voice
Yeah you can’t have your pudding if you don’t eat your meat
So the teacher says and I shuffle on my feet
Gotta grin and bear it, it’s just the way it goes
But I can feel resistance and it’s good to feel it grow
I don’t know all the saints, not personally anyway
Jesus now Mohamed and my hair is turning grey
Now there’ll come a fatwa because of what I say
So many rules I just wanna walk away
Well its fish again on Friday but I’ll suppress my grin
I’ve sort of learned to face it and take it on the chin
But fish again on Friday, I’ve just about had my fill
Fish again on Friday, I’ve had it to the gills
Fish again on Friday. Who invented that?
Fish again on Friday I’m gonna eat my hat
poem by Kris Whelan

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She Is There
i see some bamboo poles
lining up
on the shallow sea
she is there
watching some fishes without fins
without scales
she is there on some exclamations
this cannot be!
this cannot be!
the fish i know have fins!
the fish i know have scales all over their elongated bodies!
the fish i know can swim!
why are these fishes dying?
why are these fishes swimless in the sea where they belong?
yes my dear, the fishes and the sea, you do not belong there
the fishes are not yours and you do not belong to them
they have their own salty, slimy, scaly world,
they have gills and fins and round eyes
that do not blink
so you cannot tell them what to do, what to become.
in fact, you are neither fish nor fowl
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Fish Out Of Water
I feel so out of place here
With this high society
These high fallutin people
Dont know what to make of me
I feel like a minnow in a sea of moby dicks
A small fry in a big pan
Theyre caviar -- Im fish sticks
Fish out of water
I know I dont belong
Fish out of water
Everything I do is wrong
My style of hair, the clothes I wear
The way I speak, the things I eat
The way I act, my lack of tact
Nothin seems to fit
Fish out of water
Flounderin round
Out of my element
But Im just as good as they are
Why do I feel second rate
Its like, sorry charlie,
We want only tuna with good taste
I guess you could say wal-mart
Is quite a way from guccis
Im timex, theyre rolex
Im captain ds, theyre sushi
Fish out of water
Ive had it to the gills
Fish out of water
With these yuppie-guppie frills
Yeah, Im a square in a round hole
A catfish in a goldfish bowl
A little fish with lots of soul
Out of my element
Fish out of water
Flounderin round just for the halibut
Save me, save me
S.o.s. somebody
Save me, save me
Somebody rescue me
Fish out of water
Somebody throw me in
Fish out of water
On a scale of one to ten
Im a two, perhaps a three
Compared to the big fish in the sea
Im washed ashore so save me please
Im in an awful fix
Fish out of water
Rescue me
And you better do it quick
Fish out of water
Its such a culture shock
Fish out of water
My stomachs tied in knots
Fish out of water
Fish out of water
song performed by by Dolly Parton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Gill-Nets
Tug at the net,
Haul at the net,
Strip off the quivering fish;
Hid in the mist
The winds whist,
Is like my heart's wish.
What is your wish,
Your heart's wish?
Is it for home on the hills?
Strip off the fish,
The silver fish,
Caught by their rosy gills.
How can I know,
I love you so,
Each little thought I get
Is held so,
It dies you know,
Caught in your heart's net.
Tug at your net,
Your heart's net,
Strip off my silver fancies;
Keep them in rhyme,
For a dull time,
Fragile as frost pansies.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott

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The frog
Frog is neither fish to live in water
Nor a mammal to live on lands either.
It is an amphibian to love both.
Frog is not like us to have its baby
Look like its father in shape and habit.
Its child is a fish with its tail and gills.
Frog is a martyr to humanity.
We dissect it to learn anatomy.
To test mankind we kill animals, ho.
26.07.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Spawning Time
(Translation To: Laichzeit)
He loves his mother
and from the side
he gives the fish to her
it sheds its skin before empty testicles
the old skin falls on the floor
He loves his sister
and from behind
the fish eats to the mouth
the gills still bloody from sucking
on the big red eyes
Spawning time
it is spawning time
He loves his dog
oh god from above
the fish now kisses with his tongue
he spits dead milk in your face
you don't dare to touch him
Spawning time
fishmilk everywhere
it is spawning time
The mother has been taken by the sea
Spawning time
the sisters don't have time
Spawning time
the dog waves from the shore
Spawning time
the fish needs his loneliness
Spawning time
song performed by by Rammstein

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sea Encounter
I caught a massive shark
and kept it beside the raft
half out of the nightmare waters
with its head dangling from the
hook.
It gaped at me and didn’t attack.
It didn’t even flinch, or roar -
It was silent as a shark.
It desired life with its weight
Being big and bigger,
Thrashed and assaulted
by the sea creatures. Where are
the other fish? In the sea
where they dashed and whirled
and slept. This one
has now ended like a ghost.
The other fish do not mind:
It is covered with ruined scales,
Hard and close-packed.
Its gills were consuming
the abhorrent oxygen
- the scaly gills,
exhilarating with blood,
that can damage us somehow -
I wondered of the flesh,
rubbery and not fleshy like other fishes
Of the deep blue sea.
I wondered of the different skeleton,
That dinosaur skeleton,
the colours that were the same,
the same colours that would permeate it.
Eyes were no goodness, but
Evil was their intention.
It lunged -
I don’t know how!
Perhaps the flip would drag me under,
And keep me busy paddling
Enough to sink me down
And devour me.
But I was wise and wary
To survive the whole encounter.
poem by Naveed Akram

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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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Where Did All Large Game Fish Go?
an estimated 90 per cent
of all large predatory fish
are gone totally fished out
greed humanity gills caught
poem by Terence George Craddock

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The Newcomer
'There's something new in the river,'
The fish said as it swam.
'It's got no scales, no fins and no gills,
And ignores the impassable dam.'
'There's something new in the trees.'
I heard a bloated thrush sing.
'It's got no beak, no claws, and no feathers,
And not even the ghost of a wing.'
'There's something new in the warren,'
Said the rabbit to the doe.
'It's got no fur, no eyes and no paws,
Yet digs further than we dare go.'
'There's something new in the whiteness,'
Said the snow-bright polar bear.
'I saw its shadow on a glacier,
But it left no pawmarks there.'
Through the animal kingdom
The news was spreading fast.
No beak, no claws, no feather,
No scales, no fur, no gills,
It lives in the trees and the water,
In the soil and the snow and the hills,
And it kills and it kills and it kills.
poem by Brian Patten

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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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First Do No Harm
As she impaled the worm on the
hook she said fishing gave her peace
... as she ripped out their eyes
throats and gills.. without surcease
Why not fish without a hook
without a net
with no intention to harm
poem by O. Anna Niemus

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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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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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