Heron
Heron said and
Fish heard.
Nobody knows
What it rendered.
Nothing is in complete form
Clarified the sky
And the cloud
Stroke it out.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Related quotes
Stay still like a heron
Stay still like a heron in an unfavorable situation,
Later act swiftly in appropriate time and get things done
As if the heron waits patiently with one leg,
Picks fast and seizes the fish.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Or The Mail Man
Builders for these castles get their hands wet
And then sculpt the necks of parapets and heron:
They burn around the shoulders
Growing freckles like periwinkles as they step
Over the jelly-fish—
Their mother leaving them to be watched over by
The sea so she could go
Shopping with another man or the mail man—
In its innuendo the sun will burn,
The cloud with disappear—and the birds will turn.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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As I Went
As I went, as I went
Over the mountains,
I heard, I heard,
Through cloud-wreath and mist,
A hound that was baying -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
Over the meadows,
I heard, I heard,
From thicket, from shadow,
A hidden bird fluting -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
By rocks and by sand-dunes,
I heard, I heard,
At the dea's bottom
A silver fish swimming -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
In my house, in my house,
I heard, I heard,
A footfall, a footfall
Closely behind me -
Death . . it was death.
poem by Adelaide Crapsey
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The cloud of doubt that surrounds political figures tends to remain and never dissipate or be clarified.
quote by Bob Woodward
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remembering A Friend Through The Fish
we keep when we were children
our treasures in a form of a fish
inside our own little secret ponds
we never intend to share them at first
we fear the adults who steal
we dislike them minding us
telling us that fish is not interesting at all
that the pond is just a very small world
where our minds are convoluted
like intestines of a fish
do you remember the flood
of adult water spreading rising higher than our knees?
it was very sad
all the fish we kept were taken away by the indifference
of the majority
we give up
we went to other places
and then we became too lonely
they want us to hate the fish
to be like them
and so here we are still keeping the fish
in anger.
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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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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A love is eternal
Why love is considered as eternal?
Why it has so much impact as internal?
Why are we swept away in single stroke?
Why can’t it be hidden in thick smoke?
Yes, it is unique and uncontrollable
You think of only one world and capable
Everything moves on rightly as per your wish
You are the only species in pond as fish
Yes, it sends complete joy and makes us to dance
Though no one may observe it or glance
It has its own impact and relevance
It is purely accidental in its presence
What one should term it in any form?
No one can afford to remain ill informed
It is just feeling and comes from within
It is uncontrollable when completely filled in
World appears completely green in form of leaves
What it retains and what it releases?
No one may offer satisfaactory answer
The real answer may be lying with only fewer
It completely changes life style
You are in the air for a while
You move in cautious manner
Nothing appeals you any matter
It has offered you some way of living
You are led some thing in believing
Love has become assome source of aspiration
You have devoped deep and relation
It is going to be a reality soon
You are dreaming in hot afternoon
The world seems to you as completely fascinating
Something new in form of love is originating
Love has to survive and last long
You can’t be deceived or something can go wrong
It can’t prove night mare or end in dream
It is pure insight that will travel like beam
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Hungry heron stalks
among the reeds and shoreline
searching for a fish
haiku by Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black
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Crushed By Waves
As i look out into the bay
I notice the samething everyday
the dolphins squeal
that little fish's appeal
and just to think
that i could sink
under the water
my feelings are hotter
crushed by waves
and hiding in caves
avoiding my wishes
while swimming with fishes
Stroke after stroke
into a deep ocean choke
poem by Briana McLain
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The Unnamed Lake
It sleeps among the thousand hills
Where no man ever trod,
And only nature's music fills
The silences of God.
Great mountains tower above its shore,
Green rushes fringe its brim,
And over its breast for evermore
The wanton breezes skim.
Dark clouds that intercept the sun
Go there in Spring to weep,
And there, when Autumn days are done.
White mists lie down to sleep.
Sunrise and sunset crown with gold
The pinks of ageless stone,
Her winds have thundered from of old -
And storms have set their throne.
No echoes of the world afar
Disturb it night or day,
The sun and shadow, moon and star
Pass and repass for aye.
'Twas in the grey of early dawn,
When first the lake we spied,
And fragments of a cloud were drawn
Half down the mountain side.
Along the shore a heron flew,
And from a speck on high,
That hovered in the deepening blue,
We heard the fish-hawk's cry.
Among the cloud-capt solitudes,
No sound the silence broke,
Save when, in whispers down the woods,
The guardian mountains spoke.
Through tangled brush and dewy brake,
Returning whence we came,
We passed in silence, and the lake
We left without a name.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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India
India, India, India
India, India, clarified butter from the holy cow
India, India, India
I'm a pauper bereft of spiritual vision
Looking for a guru such a decision
India, India, India
Clarified butter from the holy cow
India, India, India
I'm a conscious consumer
but there's nothing to consume
Lotus flowers are still in bloom in
India, India, India
India, India, clarified butter from the holy cow
India, India, India
India, India
India, India
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I need thee...
Like the air I need to breath
The water that flows to meet the sea
I need thee
You complete me
Like the blood in my veins
And the Power of Christ's blood stains
I need thee
You complete me
Like the energy from the sun
The Cheetah's need to run
I need thee
You complete me
I have walked a thousand miles
Seen countless un-genuine smiles
I need thee
You complete me
I have heard so many lies
And created my own alibis
I need thee
You complete me
I have hidden from desperate eyes
Comforted by my lonely lullabies
I need thee
You complete me...
poem by Monciana Edmondson
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Monsoon
The Sun is nowhere to be seen,
Nor is there a trace where it had been.
The shy Sun hides its face
Behind its friend The Grey Cloud.
The Cloud oozes tears of joy and sorrow;
A melancholic sight!
And thunderous laughter.
For it saw its friend,
The Earth one long year ago!
Which now lies parched and dry below.
The tears of The Cloud,
Quench The Earth's bowel.
Till it can drink no more!
The Earth once lifeless,
Now ebbs with beauty
And life endless.
Now jealous, the once shy Sun,
Craves the limelight of its friend The Cloud!
Occasionally succeeding,
The Sun spreads its rays of smile,
While its friend The Cloud sheds its tears of joy!
A competition so good,
It lightens up the whole sky!
A fabulous feast for the eye!
Seven bright streaks with no beginning or end;
Rendered in the sky,
Which looks anew,
From The Earth below.
A beautiful light and sound orchestra!
poem by Vivian Thompson
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Ballads on Mr. Heron's Election - Ballad First
Whom will you send to London town,
To Parliament and a' that?
Or wha in a' the country round
The best deserves to fa' that?
For a' that, and a' that,
Thro' Galloway and a' that,
Where is the Laird or belted Knight
The best deserves to fa' that?
Wha sees Kerroughtree's open yett,
(And wha is't never saw that?)
Wha ever wi' Kerroughtree met,
And has a doubt of a' that?
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
The independent patriot,
The honest man, and a' that.
Tho' wit and worth, in either sex,
Saint Mary's Isle can shaw that,
Wi' Dukes and Lords let Selkirk mix,
And weel does Selkirk fa' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
The independent commoner
Shall be the man for a' that.
But why should we to Nobles jouk,
And is't against the law, that?
For why, a Lord may be a gowk,
Wi' ribband, star and a' that,
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
A Lord may be a lousy loun,
Wi' ribband, star and a' that.
A beardless boy comes o'er the hills,
Wi' uncle's purse and a' that;
But we'll hae ane frae mang oursels,
A man we ken, and a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
For we're not to be bought and sold,
Like naigs, and nowt, and a' that.
Then let us drink-The Stewartry,
Kerroughtree's laird, and a' that,
Our representative to be,
For weel he's worthy a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
A House of Commons such as he,
They wad be blest that saw that.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Life of a Cloud
Warming thermals whisper as they rise,
To tell us they are soon to bring to view
In cooler air aloft before your eyes:
A gentle wisp to counterpoint the blue.
Powder puffs emerge to grant her grace
That further bloom as would for stately tree, and
Yield a sight that calls for our embrace:
Another cloud anew above the lea.
Cruising forth, she yearns for ageless life.
O how her hopes will soon be dashed in vain,
For up there in the cold she courts her strife,
To fade away as drops of closing rain.
Scant and lacy speak her living span,
And fair among us could be brought to mourn,
But she was there to populate her clan:
From fallen tears, new daughters will be born.
Copyright © Mark R slaughter 2010
A cloudy sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Wet Whiskered Fishured Cat Caught Nothin' But An Empty Paw.
Tis' be fish-a fish of mine...
One that flips inside a pan o'thine.
That cat that swatted at a fish astray...
That cat had not caught a one'a fish that day.
Into the watery drink that cat did fall....
Kitty Kat-Kitty Kat is what he'd heard one call.
Inside the house he found me stearn...
But with fish in a pan he found to me to of learn.
Right off to market had i gone...
The Kitty Kat ate his share of fish b'fore fallen to
a sleep aft' last let out tired out, yawn.
Do you see? ...
Ssshhhhh!
ZZZZZZZeeee Zeee Zeee zzzz
zzzz
zzz! ! !
poem by Michael Gale
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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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Tiny Rhyme
Fish oh! fish
swish a miss
wish on hiss
shush to hush
Push push
oh! fish
flush a blush
fresh 'n' mush
Fish oh! fish
slush the gush
slash in gash
splash the plush
Fish oh! fish
pose to posh
rush a mash
fish oh! gosh!
poem by Mubeen Sadhika
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What is the cloud to the sun?
For what is the cloud to the sun,
It is nothing. The wind has always
Driven it away and the sun does not
Care. For want of love and care, the
Cloud plays with the fields and the
River and the sea. Impregnated it
Has conceived, and gives
Birth to the rain. The fields and the
Sea and the rivers feasted. The fields
Grow the grass and the flowers.
The sea and the rivers have
Seeded its waters with more fish.
The cloud does not like it. It has
Always dreamt of the sun but the
Wind has always blown it away.
At night the cloud talks to the moon.
And seeing the likeness of its light
To the sun that it loves, the cloud
Makes love with the shining moon.
It has given birth to the stars.
The following morning, the cloud
Is exhausted. It floats with the
Chastisements of the wind. There
Is no more direction. It still dreams
Of the sun. It dies and becomes
Taken as part of the wind. The
Cloud has become a white, clear
Sky. It is nothing. It is what you
See, when love is unrequited.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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