Fishing In Heaven
I know there'll be fishing in heaven
For Jesus was the greatest fisherman you see
Walking across the waters
Saving us from life's stormy seas
Throwing his nets into the world
Gathering a catch of you and me
Like all good fishermen
He caught us just to set us free
poem by David Kush
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The fishermen of Gallilee
The fishermen of Gallilee, disciples of Jesus, called to be,
Learning how to live by Faith, they obeyed when He said 'follow Me.'
They went out to fish with their nets one very stormy night,
And as a storm blew up, they saw Him walk and got a fright;
They thought it was a ghost, But they soon found out,
It was Jesus walking there, and soon their boat came about.
Another time when they were on the sea, as Jesus did stand and talk,
He then said we'll go the other side by boat, we won't walk;
And as they started out with their boats into the deep,
Jesus went to the back of the boat, and went to sleep.
Now as they travelled, the weather changed, and a storm did blow,
And the Fishermen came so afraid, Fear was all they did know;
They went to Jesus and woke Him, then said don't you really care,
That we're in danger, but why couldn't they realize, Jesus was there;
Jesus then stood up, rebuked the storm, and the storm quietened down,
Jesus said Peace, and peace came, No longer their faces did frown.
The fishermen learnt many things, and so do learn them, it's so,
That trusting in Jesus, for everyone, is the only way to go;
But with trust and faith, helps us to cope in life,
When sin causes us to go wrong, brings about strife;
Just keep on believing, and try not to doubt,
You too like the fishermen, you'll no longer pout.
poem by Margaret Haig
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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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At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
while the rain pours down
like water out of God’s hosepipe
with engines roaring in the ears
and clouds of smoke hang over the boats
with every fisherman for a moment being caught
in a own world while fog whirl about the boats
that rocks up and down to the harbour mouth.
The waves crash, the sea foams and bubbles
and “my girlfriend has a good lover, ”
is sung by one while the trawler sets its course
on the look out for barracouta, cod and sea trout.
“Look at the shining bodies, tons of trout, they are running free, ”
a fisherman shouts against the wind that pulls and pulls on the boat.
“Salmon man, salmon” roars the tiller man back and walls of water
roll past and the boat turns to get fishing gear ready.
“My girlfriend has a good lover and he’s a gelded goat, ”
the tune goes on and something clatters down
drawing the attention of the fishermen and the water shines
and when the boat is full they tell jokes that they guffaw at.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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A Fisher Of Men Jesus Said To Be
In the name of my Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ I offer any passerby who thirsts
the living waters the bread of Christ
wide I cast my nets as a fisher of men
I walk the lake shore I walk the rivers
oceans storms of seas bear witness
fishing foreign shores for shipwrecked souls
even long line will I fisher of men use cast
behind fishing for any lost souls to bite hooks
offer hope eternal piercing into lost life souls.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Keep Your Lure In The Water
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
The lord said, "Simon, haul your nets in
From now on you're a fisher of men"
Well, I like fishin',
That's why it caught my ear
The Lord knew how to get to me
And what I'd need to hear
Chous:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
--- Instrumental ---
Well the sea is troubled
And it's hard to stay afloat
And you feel like Jesus
Is sleeping in the boat
Don't you dare give up
On the Prince of Peace
And in the middle of the storm
You will find a sweet release
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Chorus:
Yeah, Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Yeah, keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tale Of Meenkumar
Long long ago
Man used to live on the bank of the ocean
There were many lakes and rivers surrounding the ocean
The banks of the rivers and lakes were full of trees
Many forests were there
Those were deep forests
In the forests there were many wild animals
Man lived on the bank of the ocean
Because of the danger of the wild animals
Except farmers, fishermen, craftspeople abode there
Fishermen knew fishes were the saviors of their life
So they didn't catch fish every time
They didn't catch fish unless it was necessary
They didn't kill the fry and not even the pregnant fish
There was the Meen kingdom in the oceans
What is Meen?
It is a kind of fish
They used to rule the kingdom of the oceans
One day, one Meen prince came out of the palace because of forgetfulness of mind
He was roaming and came at a place full of mosses and rocks
There were many big and small fishes
One big Salmon fish was delighted to see the beauty of the Meen prince
He felt greed to eat him
Meen prince escaped when he saw the salmon swimming towards him
Meen prince hid himself under the rocks
Salmon knew that Meen cannot stay for a long time there
When he would come, he would catch him and eat
It would be a wonderful dinner for him
Meen prince passed the night by hiding under the rocky place
Early in the morning, fishermen came to catch fish
Meen prince saw a child fisherman
He requested him to save his life
Finally the fishermen encircled the Salmon fish and caught it
Meen thanked the child fisherman and luckily returned to the palace
This was the tale of Meenkumar....
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
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Fishing
They dropped the sails of their boats
near the shore of the Sea of Galilee
at early morning-light
and were heavy-eyed and tired
having worked in vain
all night long
and washed the nets
while the sun rose hot
in the blue cloudless sky.
From the distance a crowd
came nearer following
a holy man and listening to him
and he climbed into one of the boats,
asked Simon to sail
a little bit off shore
and sat teaching the people
from the boat.
The fishermen stopped working
and started listening
to the beautiful things that he said
and yet there he was still
just a man to them
and maybe a great prophet.
He instructed Simon
to sail into deep water
and to set the nets
for a catch.
Shaking his head
Simon explained that they
had worked all night long
without catching anything
but something about this holy man
made them obey.
When they brought the nets up
there were too many fish
for the nets to hold
and they beckoned their partners
in the other boat to help
and filled both boats
past their capacity
and suddenly Simon knew
that the Son of God
was sailing with him
and fell on his knees crying out:
'Go away from me, Lord;
I am a sinful man! '
And the fishermen were astounded
at the large catch that they had taken
and Jesus said that henceforth
they would be catching men
and they shored their boats,
leaving everything
to follow Him.
[Reference: Luke 5: 1-11.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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John The Fisherman
When he was young youd not find him doing well in school,
His mind would turn unto the waters.
Always the focus of adolescent ridicule,
He has no time for farmers daughters.
Alienated from the clique society,
A lonely boy finds peace in fishing.
His mother says john this is not the way lifes supposed to be.
Dont you see the life that you are missing?
And he says...
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
Now years gone by we find man that rules the sea.
He sets out on a dark may morning .
To bring his catch back to this small community.
He doesnt see the danger dawning.
Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled,
The fog rolled in it started raining.
The starboard bow. oh my God were going down!
The do not hear his frantic mayday.
And he says
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
Ill live and die a fisherman.
Calling john the fisherman.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
A Very Angry Fisherman
He'd battled waves and elements
Had risen before the sun
Took grandaughter and fishing partner
Headed off.....as all for one
Cleaned the decks, checked the nets
Before setting of out to sea.
Followed the path, known by all
Out to..... best, place to be.
They fished all day whilst sipping
Hopeful of fisherman's tales
Chirpily wishing for that perfect catch
Prepared was the ice, decks and pales
The day was ending
Nets still empty
Barring a few small fish
Nowhere enough to make a living
Nor enough to fill a dish
The seagulls they came to beg for the off
Was.... too much ridicule to bear
Angry is an understatement
Risen upon his neck, his hair
The birds they screamed and begged and swooped
Hoping to steal, small prize
Angry and spitting feathers
(He grabbed and stared one bird in the eye)
'Will you eff off? ! ! '
He screamed at the bird
Who stared and squawked and flew
The angry fisherman returned home
With barely a cud to chew...
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Stormy Waters
(white)
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
I did it again, I let another year roll away
So I pretend that Ive got a reason to say
Im closer to having you
I never should have strayed
I wish it could
Be easier
For me to end someday
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
Whatever I did tell me would I do
The same again
If I could relive would it be the same in the end
cause everyday
Has a funny way
Of ending up so blue
I wish it could
Be easier
To get back with you
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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At Lambert's Bay The Fishing Trawlers Sail Out
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
where clouds of smoke hang over the boats
while the rain pours down in buckets.
The waves hit, the sea foams and bubble,
it looks as if a storm is rising
and 'my girlfriend has a fine fellow, '
one sings in darkness before he starts whistling
where clouds of smoke hang over the boats.
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
seeking snoek, cod and sea-trout
and the boat turns to get out fishing gear,
it looks as if a storm is rising
and the men wait on the sea's first gifts
with rain like only God's hosepipe brings
while the rain pours down in buckets.
'Look at that shining bodies, tons of trout, they are running free, '
the song continues and something falls down
and the boat turns to get out fishing gear,
with engines roaring loudly
every fisherman is caught for a moment.
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
'my girlfriend has a fine fellow and he is a wild goat, '
one sings against the wind with more joining voices,
the song continues and something falls down
and the tiller-man wonders about the sudden rain
but the fishermen are catching
while the rain pours down in buckets
they are standing ready but half-blinded
'Where are we going on the wide, wide sea'
one sings against the wind with more joining voices,
gigantic waves hits and pulls the boat
and some fishermen are scared.
At Lambert's Bay the fishing trawlers sail out
while the rain pours down in buckets
while the fishermen sing their song:
'The waves hit, the sea foams and bubble, '
'where are we going on the wide, wide sea'
and 'my girlfriend has a fine fellow.'
[Reference: Barracouta is known in South-Africa as 'snoek.']
poem by Gert Strydom
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God Asked Noah
Before the world was drenched in shame
Ere Satan reigned in man
The Father Son and Holy Flame
Wrote down salvation’s plan
Then God told man to build a boat
In faith to walk inside
But only eight were kept afloat
All unbelievers died
“I thank You Lord for saving me
For I was drowning too
From certain death You’ve set me free
And gave me life anew
Allow me in Your boat to sail
I’ve heard my Saviour’s call
In Christ I know I’ll never fail
Nor from Your grace will fall
I long to be a lifeboat Lord
Returning to the sea
Calling Your fish to climb on board
As Jesus did for me
With Christ I’ll sail to far off shores
In truth from port to port
We’ll free the catch from Satan’s claws
We’ll fish till all are caught
The wind is right the course is set
My Lord is at the helm
Let’s hoist the sail cast wide the net
Let’s fish throughout Your realm
Let’s cast our nets in every land
Let’s sail in one accord
Let’s teach the fish to understand
How safe is life on board.
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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The Ship Called Christianity!
Christianity, a ship afree,
Is found tossing upon the sea!
Upon the deck, there’s mutiny;
No bond of love but just envy.
Selfishness, no humility;
No amity, just enmity;
The fish around, none can well see;
And the sea appears too stormy!
The nets are old, tattered fully,
Fishes don’t come up properly;
The ship moving unsafely;
Jesus is forgotten truly!
Lost are precious time, energy;
Forgotten is sense of duty;
No fishes caught yet revelry;
Ship’s in waters of piracy!
Rescue the ship, O God, we pray;
And be its captain, night and day;
Steer it safely and show the way;
With nets o’er-laden, reach the bay.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 21-09-2010
poem by John Celes
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Fishing For Something
Fishing for something, On a lake out west,
But; the only thing biting, Mossies are a pest;
I really came to catch a dozen or so trout,
But had to stop, There's a storm come about.
Fishing for something off their pier,
Up at ballarat. On wendouree weir;
Hope to catch some trevally for tea,
But all I caught was an old shoe, silly me.
Fishing for something, I'll need a net,
Try to catch lobster, if I don't I'll be upset,
So I let out the net, and to my surprise today,
5 lobsters, and 1 cheeky dolphin trying to play.
Fishing for something, a minister will do,
As he preaches to the people, the message so true;
About. Love, and kindness, and helping each other,
And telling them too, to help witness to a brother.
Fishing for something, is what we can do,
Help so many, find a way, and not be in a stew;
Don't judge others, and don't start to fight,
But be caring and sharing, lead them to the light.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Monologue Of A Commercial Fisherman
“If you work a body of water and a body of woman
you can take fish out of one and children out of the other
for the two kinds of survival. The fishing is good,
both kinds are adequate in pleasures and yield,
but the hard work and the miseries are killing;
it is a good life if life is good. If not, not.
You are out in the world and in in the world,
having it both ways: it is sportive and prevenient living
combined, although you have to think about the weathers
and the hard work and the miseries are what I said.
It runs on like water, quickly, under the boat,
then slowly like the sand dunes under the house.
You survive by yourself by the one fish for a while
and then by the other afterward when you run out.
You run out a hooky life baited with good times,
and whether the catch is caught or not is a question
for those who go fishing for men or among them for things.”
poem by Alan Dugan
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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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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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