The Blind God
Streaked with immortal blasphemies,
Betwixt His twin eternities
The Shaper of mortal destinies
Sits in that limbo of dreamless sleep,
Some nothing that hath shadows deep.
The world is only a small pool
In the meadows of Eternity,
And men like fishes lying cool ;
And the wise man and the fool
In its depths like fishes lie.
When an angel drops a rod
And he draws you to the sky
Will you bear to meet your God
You have streaked with blasphemy ?
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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By Loe Pool
The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun
With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again;
I see the corn in sheaves, and the harvestmen,
And the cows coming down to the water one by one.
Dragon-flies mailed in lapis and malachite
Flash through the bending reeds and blaze on the pool;
Sea-ward, where trees cluster, the shadow is cool;
I hear a singing, where the sea is, out of sight;
It is noontide, and the fishes leap in the pool.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell
Down through the tomb's inward arch
He has shouldered out into Limbo
to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber:
the merciful dead, the prophets,
the innocents just His own age and those
unnumbered others waiting here
unaware, in an endless void He is ending
now, stooping to tug at their hands,
to pull them from their sarcophagi,
dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas,
neighbor in death, Golgotha dust
still streaked on the dried sweat of his body
no one had washed and anointed, is here,
for sequence is not known in Limbo;
the promise, given from cross to cross
at noon, arches beyond sunset and dawn.
All these He will swiftly lead
to the Paradise road: they are safe.
That done, there must take place that struggle
no human presumes to picture:
living, dying, descending to rescue the just
from shadow, were lesser travails
than this: to break
through earth and stone of the faithless world
back to the cold sepulchre, tearstained
stifling shroud; to break from them
back into breath and heartbeat, and walk
the world again, closed into days and weeks again,
wounds of His anguish open, and Spirit
streaming through every cell of flesh
so that if mortal sight could bear
to perceive it, it would be seen
His mortal flesh was lit from within, now,
and aching for home. He must return,
first, in Divine patience, and know
hunger again, and give
to humble friends the joy
of giving Him food--fish and a honeycomb.
poem by Denise Levertov
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Fisherman and sea
Fisher man
Catch
The fishes...
On net...
At sea...
Sea asking
For fisherman...
'This fishes is not
Your fishes...'
Fisherman told
' yes this not my fishes
Allways your's...
You sale with my work...'
Sea bee silant...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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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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Sleeping with the angels
sleeps keep the immortal soul at peace with
the eternity calls, the tranquility of our warm
heart recalls
as angels watch our deep snoring, every
breath wakes our imagination of what we want
in the most astonishing super hero of our dreams
the sole witness of our moving spirit to venture
beyond our human faculty, of being more than
we come to guide our steps for only
by following our strings of aspiration our mortal
body reaches beyond human satisfaction
lives not the fears of every immortal of tears, for
the night comes like lightning of the sky, swifting
thunders of the angels fury where echo of souls
cried for mercy, of the slaying angels of darkness
let every sleeps be a moment of unifying souls of
beauty, lying with angels memory, where each
stay is with in heaven's nest of rest, for every day
is a good sleep with an angel’s best
as you sleep, always make yourself happy, for in
every snoring, lying the angel’s touch of cooled
sleep, leaving you its angelic breath ready
to wake and see angels sleep
then you come to know that it’s the angels who sleep
with you...until Today
poem by Antonio Liao
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Golden Fish
Golden colour
fishes...
Flying on the
Bigest gloub
Morden glass
Bottle...
In side the water
Fishes wa flying
Smothely...
Fevarate some food
Also given the fishes...
For my home;
Fish as also catch
And eat the food
Slowly with nice...
I was enjoy it...
But;
Fishes was try to
Come out of the glass bottle....
Why? ? ?
The fishes want to swime
And live some were...
Not or the beautfull bottle....! ! !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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My Deep
You're more lovely than all the shades
of greens and purples of any precious garden.
You're my most dreamless sleep,
my green, my cool and dark and deep.
Your smile's worth more than all the jewels
within the earth, begging at your feet.
Hot and humid, overtired. I beg for sleep!
My fresh, my green, my dark and deep.
My purple! Oh, for a dreamless sleep!
My green, my cool, my dark and deep.
You are sweeter than summer night's jasmine
and brighter than the sun's morning laughter.
My Prince, my man, my green lovely, my sleep!
my best, my fresh, my cool, my dark and deep.
poem by Guy Peppin
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Nasty child
Child catch
The fishes...
On the glass tub...
At home
Fishes was
Cool with
Golden colour...
The child did not
Enjiy the colour...
Enjoy the fishes
Swimming...
Child catch the fish
At net...
With hand enjoy
The fish jump...
It is not cool
Hearts of cry...
The child is not notty
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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I have seen one shrike occupy himself for hours in sticking up on thorns, a number of small fishes that the fishermen had thrown on the shore. The fishes dried up and decayed.
quote by John Bachman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here the Sea Meets the River
down there the river glitters
the fishes leap with a dance in the sun
their joyous fins flutter and sing
and they dive back into the river again
here where the Sea meets the River
the fishes leap with a howl
their fins flap in the burning sun
and they dive back into the angry Waves again
in their nothingness they see the harvestmen
bending reeds in the blazing pool
it is noontide, the fishes are in a wanton Song
the words offend my Ears and defile my Tongue
poem by Padmore Enyonam Agbemabiese
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The deadly Leviathan
God’s ancient plaything
lays motionless while around it
fishes, small plants and steam are rising
and it settles down bit by bit
while in its stomach burns an ancient fire
and very deep down it swallows fishes by the ton
before sleeping some more is its only desire
but its eyes are always switched on
while it waits aeons for Michael to return
and in its heart hatred and longing for destruction burns
where it is gigantic in size, lying like a mountain of fuming rock
and slowly one of its many heads turns and turns
trying to comprehend,
while it lies if all its energy is spent
waiting, always waiting
to bring earth to its devastation, to its end.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Wanted freedom
Different colour
Fishes...
Nicely swimming on
Glass tub...
But fishes was
Crying...
With a water...
Water did not see
Fishes crying...
Fishes crying for freedom...
Yes...
With out of the water tub...
Death is no problem
we want freedom...
we want freedom...
So...
Fishes was cry to play
Play to cry...
On the beauty water tub
At home....
Ok...
Freedom is one
of the death...?
Or live...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Encumbered
speak in a tin jar
make sounds dine
in plopping cool
water drops fine
and guitar's echo of the ear
roll into thirsty souls
the bronze that I hear
a sound like cool
little liquid bridges
in a pool
a pile
of priests
meet
in a world at war
calling strong rivers
from afar
four
strumming the strings
of the brown guitar
speaking a tin beat
and songs like cool
little bridges in a pool
ordain white and black
in the season of the street
they who play the guitars
splashing hope they who meet
encumbered feet
Fish Cry
Fish in to
Clour fishes...
Loveley
Run and
Play...
Big and
Beauty glass
Tub...
At a inside home...
But...
Fishes are
crying
Live at trouble
Of life at
Leave of
Only at
Beauty
Glass tub....
Who try
About
The fishes crying...! ?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Deep Into the Heart Of sea
I shall dive deep into,
The heart of the sea...
Where the corals make their realms,
With the motley colored
Vases, trees, flowers....
Where the weeds sway with
The swing of sea-waves....
Fishes play hide and seek,
And the whales splash
Water with their mountainous
Body far and wide.....
There I'll swim, away from
The clamor of crowd,
Away from care and sorrow,
Deep, deep into the cool, cool sea.
Mossy green bed invites me,
To lie and dream in the
World of sea, as a mermaid,
As a queen of the water kingdom!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Fish of a Different Color
Big fish and small fish
Swimming here in this pond
Fast fish and slow fish
And now one is gone
Poor, foolish fishes
Just make a few stronger
And watch how these fishes
Devour each other
To be the small fish
I'm sure none would bother
But oh, don't you wish
You could make the pond smaller?
I've found my own niche
To live my life fuller
For I am a fish
Of a different color
During the winter eat long fishes, during the summer eat short fishes.
Twisting By The Pool
Were going on a holiday now
Gonna take a villa, a small chalet
On the costa del magnifico
Where the cost of living is so low
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Sitting in a small cafe now
Swing, swing, swingin to the cabaret
You wanna see a movie, take in a show now
Meet new people at the disco
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
And we can still get information
Reading all about inflation
And youre never gonna be out of reach
Theres a call-box on the beach
Mmm, youre gonna look so cute
Sunglasses and bathing suites
Be the baby of my dreams
Like the ladies in the magazine
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Im a twisting fool
Just twisting, yeah twisting
Twisting by the pool
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring Fish
Spring has adjustments to make over the school,
Its fences are damaged by the storm and clouds.
Spring and the time of its own is similar to everything taught
Under the sun. The school is swept by the winds into the sea.
A cool breeze has emptied its contents in a bed of the ocean
And there fishes have learnt lately of the molecular rocks
That signify a straight and morbid end to the fishes.
Too many have fish, and there are too many children.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Fish-Life
The fishes of the river collide with water
Of every sort, of all the years, of each sport.
Ask them how they search for more life,
Loading the energy, keeping alive.
My life is not fishes, rather the father protrudes
And the mother is ours.
My boat concerns us as the water below
Is too deep for swimming,
But the fish are happy forever.
poem by Naveed Akram
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