Is Anybody Out There
Is anybody out there
Can anybody see
The words I have written
Are all about me
My life in a fish bowl
For the world to see
Is any body out there
Who is like me
Alone and not careing
Just want to let go
Of all of these heartaches
Oh how they hurt so
Is anybody out there
who's alot like me
poem by David Kush
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The Fish In The Fishbowl...
i see fish in a bowl
the size of the fish is just
enough for the bowl
and water is half-full
the fish swims freely and
breathes
air and lets it pass through
its lungs and three bubbles
rise up
and then disappears
at the surface
outside the house it is raining
heavily
the news of the river overflowing
the banks
is flashed on tv
warnings are given by the government
evacuation is eminent
carry only those which are necessary
foremost
save lives of the children and
the old sector
we are ready
we are not taking this fish bowl
the fish can take of itself
when we left
the fish flips its fins and breathes faster
releasing more bubbles on the surface of the water
it is the only creature i think
that is happy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Feeling
that feeling of being
a gold fish
inside a round glass bowl
where your world
is only water and
sand
and then hand takes
it and breaks the bowl on the floor
a gold fish wriggles
gasping for air
there is none
do you feel this now?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Nonsense Poem - a Villanelle
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little worm hops in a hole
A little hat has lost its sole
A little petal has no peel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little dog dances a reel
A little frog jumps on a mole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little boat rings out a peal
A little bell loses its keel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little rock slips on a seal
A little perch walks on a pole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little card shakes on a deal
A little sigh fancies a meal
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
poem by Alison Cassidy
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Fish In A Bowl
Everywhere I go
A thousand faces stare at me
Eating from the palm
A date from hand to mouth
Break a leg!
The shoes are on the bottom
On your way
But the wardrobe always stays wide open
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
Everywhere I go
All bob and weave
Or sew it seams
Aiming low in life
They keep their noses clean
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
An ordered life from start to finish
And my timing is out
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up...fish!
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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Care 4 You Why
Why do I care 4 you
Why am I there 4 you
Why do I Try
I am lost in my fellings
I am lost in careing 4 you
Nobody cares about me
All alone
All by myself
Lost inside
Lost on the outside
No fellings
No where to go
Care 4 You Why
Why do you not care 4 me
Lost forever
No point to care
I don't need you
Care 4 me please
I am alone in this empty world
Filled with no care and love
I shell end it all no more careing 4 you my endless hope
poem by Keith Young
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Beware Words Written
words celebrating what is written
beware allure of beauty in words written
seek instead words thoughts not written
words not written thoughts not written
themes not written which need to be written
the importance of the unwritten demands writing
important world needs consciousness needs writing
urgent global necessity issues demands needs writing
actions resolutions policy change harmony restoration needs writing
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Walk The Talk
where do you live?
i ask him
'i live there' he says,
pointing to a far place
it is a greenery, a forest opaque to the mist,
there is a path that leads there
on bare feet, and without any burden
to carry on
your back,
he says he is an honest man
and shall live with it for many years to come
he says he comes from a family of honest genealogy
and he thrives on simple living and word of honor
his face has a very gentle disposition
like that of the
common lamb
his words are soft
like a rose that you enclose with your hand
before he left for his intended journey
i had a bowl of rice and a
dried fish in my kitchen
i almost believe him
until my bowl of rice
and dried fish are all gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonata For You
You need to have companionship
You need to have a vocation
You have to frame yourself
You have to take the world with you
You need to set boudaries
You live in that fish bowl and you need to come out
I am the plant inside that fish tank
You need to spend time with people
And get to know people
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Spoke To The Heart
many will read
few will comment
written words provoked
no response
in heart of emptiness
no answering echo chimed
perhaps these probing words
were not written to you
perhaps your faith
was still fledgling
unable to leave nest
to venture forth
upon world adventures
courage to take wing
was lacking
it was not your time
words never spoke
to your heart
perhaps they were not
written to you
perhaps you never
opened minds eye
perhaps you never will
perhaps this is not
your life purpose
perhaps to lead is
not written upon
enlightened soul
is not an aspiration
also born are those
who must follow
who must serve
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Gold Fish Bowl
(Instrumental & sax into)
What will it take for them to leave me alone?
Don't they know I'm just a guy who sings songs?
I'm not promoting no hit record
And I don't have no t.v. show
An' I don't have no reason
To live in the gold fish bowl
I'm just doin' my gigs
An' I'm on an' off the road
Ev'rything I say is not meant to be
Set in stone
Just because they call me a celebrity
That does not make it true
'Cause I don't believe in the myth, people
So, why should you?
Jazz, blues and funk
That's not rock an' roll
Folk with a beat an
Little bit a soul
I don't have no hit record
I don't have no t.v. show
Tell me, why should I have to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
(Instrumental and organ)
Well, the parasites and psychic vampires
Feeding on the public at large
Projectin' the shadow
Onto everyone at us
Well, the newspaper barons
Are scum of the lowest degree
And they prey on ev'rybody
They prey on you an' me
I'm singin' jazz, blues and funk
Baby, that's not rock an' roll
An' folk with a beat
An' a little bit a soul
I don't have no hit record
I don't have no t.v. show
So, why should I want to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
(Instrumental & sax)
So why should I want to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A World A Universe
to the pebbles below the fish
and the bubbles
the fish is the only
meaning of their existence
its scales are the suns
its tails meteors
its eyes the gods
and fins the winds
the bowl is the emptiness
the water surrounding is the fullness
to all of them
the world is perfect
their eternity is only
this moment
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cassidy
Its a mistery to I,
For why she wrote that night
Into my world, she brought much delihgt
Her kind and careing soul
Filled my heart and made it whole
With her words came a speacial glow
Thanks to her there is always
A sunny day outside my window
TO: CASSIDY,
Thanks for being a good friend!
poem by Pirate Love Magic Man
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The Storm...!
My tiny car
Is gliding on
The grey band
Dissapearing into
A white wall
Gelled water
Falling from the sky
Floating across
The windshield
Has transformed
The wiper blades
Into two giant icicles
Swooshing across the glass
Making creepy sounds
The whiteness
Has conceled
The world around
Making me a fish
Swimming in a
Bowl of milk
A fish swimming alone
In a giant bowl of curdling milk
Trying to reach to the glass wall
And press its eye on to the glass
To peek at the solitary face
Gazing at the glass bowl
With her chin resting on her hand
Waiting...
Waiting for me to
Emerge through the milky darkness
To show my face...!
[Ah... glass walls... cruel invisible separators...]
poem by Rowving Smith
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Futile is Life if Swapped!
A fish out of its water-bowl!
A Pup within a fishes’-bowl!
–Unnatural are both these things,
And life could end for both earthlings!
Fish-gills are meant for oxygen
Dissolved in water and not air;
Pup’s lungs need air to breathe and live;
It can’t stay long under-water!
Fish-fins help it to move about
In water most effortlessly;
A pup can’t be confined without
the needed space to run and play!
All lives are meant for habitats
Specifically pre-destined;
One cannot live a normal life,
With living conditions exchanged!
God made the land for beasts with lungs
To breathe the oxygen in air;
God made the fish cold-blooded to
Swim freely and feed in water.
God made each being with purpose;
Man cannot fly like birds of air;
Nor can he live within water;
Each one must know his/her confines!
Why risk one’s life to do a thing,
Which is not worth the risks, one takes?
Why play with life – a priceless gift
From God above to all earthlings?
The fool endangers his one life
To do something that is worthless;
Great souls will sacrifice their lives
In saving many more brethren!
Life is most precious wealth on earth;
Spend all our wealth to save our health.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-5-2008
poem by John Celes
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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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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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My Words To Be Written
Words can be said, they can be written
they can be funny or sad or informed
words are sought after by everyone
papers, scripts, books, letters or texts
they can gossip, tattle or lie
honest, trust worthy, confusing
written to story or rhyme to rhythm
they can be found in our minds
written or printed they are strong
brought together the bring magic
imaginations, fantasy, real life
many stories and songs by words
have touched the soul with in
my words are to enlighten and entertain your mind
to put you in places we never dreamed
and to think I could of done that
my words to you is my soul to share
written with love, hate and sorrow
take the time to enjoy the words
words make ours dreams come true
poem by Michael Peterson
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Brenda's Lonely Fish
I am a tiny flame of gold
That flickers in a jar
I see the world in circles
Eyes watch me from afar
But I can only swim all day
In circles round and around
Out of the glass I see the world
But cannot hear a sound
Trapped inside a goldfish bowl
I swim round and around
I can never catch my tail
Or swim into the sea
Forever watched by strangers eyes
Alone and never free
The world is waiting somewhere
In a river rushing by
Full of fishes big and small, leaping up to touch the sky
But I can only wonder as I swim around all day
Inside my shiny glassy globe
At all thoses fishes out there at play
My mother is called Brenda
She won me at a fete
She's twenty stone and five foot one
And needs to lose some weight
Because I am a tiddler she said
I'll eat that fish
I'll fry that little tiddler
He'll make a tasty dish
For what's the point of keeping
One fish inside a glass?
Without a mate he's miserable
His life span's cut by half
So I'm being humane
To ease his pain, at last
I know I'm vegetarian
But one fishy dish can pass
I'll fry him quick in olive oil
With some nice brown onion rings
On a bed of rice he'll taste real nice
And he won't feel a thing
For death it comes to all of us
But for him it's not too soon
For their's no future for a lonely fish
Trapped in a bowl in my front room.
Of course I could take him to the pond
But the cat is sure to get him
He's better of inside my gut
Then it's easy to forget him!
poem by Yvette Smith
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I Wrote A Poem I Could Not Write
I wrote a poem I could not write-
And then when I tried to write it again
Could not write it again -
Poems written and not written
Words and more words
What do they mean?
Paradoxes and games with words
What do they mean?
If there is Beauty in the language
It is one thing
But words just to hear themselves think,
Why should they mean ‘Remembrance'?
Oh Words oh Questions oh Darkness oh Life-
Let me write myself to the grave
Believing at least
That poems too even when they can be written
Have their small unhidden meanings.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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