The Lure
“WHAT bait do you use,' said a Saint to the Devil,
When you fish where the souls of men abound?'
'Well, for special tastes,' said the King of Evil,
'Gold and Fame are the best I've found.'
'But for common use?' asked the Saint. 'Ah, then,'
Said the Demon, 'I angle for Man, not men,
And a thing I hate
Is to change my bait,
So I fish with a woman the whole year round.'
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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The Fish Hook
My father
holding fish-hook
hooking bait
throwing of it to sea
in that bridge
its angle line is moving quickly
big fish eating bait
in its fish-hook
or only crab
making a fool of bait
in its fish-hook
or chance
which is making a fool
of him'self
poem by Prasetya Utama
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The fishing
Lust is the bait given by the God
To get the fish which are children.
We don’t catch fish with the bait
And instead eat the bait and forget fishing.
17.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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In His Fishing Expedition
in his fishing expedition
his bait is this bluff
and with gullibility
you take the bait,
swallow the hook, line and sinker
i say
baby you have not yet learned the intricate art of the spies
those who are still not captured by the enemies
in the middle of their yards
take the bait
and put it back to the sea
you must learn how to fish too
in this expedition of lies and deception
take the shape of the mythical mermaid
swim like a slimy fish but sing like a beautiful woman.
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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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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The Young Man And The Sea
One day I sailed,
my ship out to sea,
I went for the want,
to fish and be free.
And I baited my line,
with a shriveled old thing,
my heart was the bait,
I hoped soon it would sing.
And on that very day,
I'd gotten my wish,
for teasing my heart,
was the most beautiful fish.
But it only nibbled,
and I loved that fish,
until my heart fell,
and was lost to the abyss.
The fish lost it's interest,
and then swam away,
I lost love for all else,
on that fateful day.
I still love the thing,
with this hole in my chest,
for in all of the sea,
that fish was the best.
And I still look for the fish,
or the heart that it drowned,
but I know what was lost,
cannot be found.
And so there my heart lies,
on the floor of the sea,
lost to the waves,
of my agony.
poem by Enrico Orbita
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Watching the hours pass by
Johnny sits waiting all day
For fish to arrive
He wonders whether they have died
For hours and hours he waits for the fish to take it’s bait
A ripple in the lake
Sends his fishing rod a warning
The worm has been spiced up for the fish
Its fragrance was aroused in the lake
The fish tasted the hot spices in the cool lake
“Steady old girl” says Johnny with a smile
“ Soon you will be mine”
Ripples overlap
The fish rod numbs with pain
The fish battles with the rod
Johnny pulls harder
He will not let go
Its weight surpasses that of a stone
The fish hooks himself loose
The ripple disappears
Johnny sits waiting at the end of the lake
Waiting for another to taste his spicy bait
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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Isaac Newton
Isaac Newton
For years he fished in the nearby lake,
but the fish would never take his bait.
So he baited his hook with crusty-bread,
but even that didn’t turn their head.
He changed the bait to a lump of cheese
and thought this would tempt and tease,
but alas no bites from dusk till dawn,
so he changed the bait to boiled corn.
With no success with boiled wheat
Newton would not accept defeat.
So he put a juicy worm upon the hook,
but even this got no second look.
He cast aside his tackle and thoughts of fish,
and became a mathematician and physicist.
One sunny morning beneath an apple tree
he sat reading a book of philosophy.
From the lake a fish leaped high above his head,
but an apple fell down and hit him instead.
He looked up for the fish and it fell onto his lap,
so he ate the apple and put the fish back.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The Fisherman's Boat
I am tied to a pole
In me came and sat a fisherman with a big mole
He had a fishing rod and a net
With a bucket and bait so wet
He untied me and rowed me
Into the deep sea
And with rod, net and bait
He caught fish till late
He went home with a big fish
To prepare and eat a tasty dish
Tomorrow again he’ll come wearing his overcoat
To untie me, his little fishing boat.
poem by Niharika Singh
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A Fish Eye
A fish eye just looks straight
It never shows emotions
It cannot refuse a bait
That may take it to oblivion.
A fish eye can only stare
Taking everything in one look
In innocence it will dare
To try what it's like on a hook.
A fish eye never cries
As the body grows limp in pain
Eventually it will die
And its scales go down the drain.
A fish eye you cannot eat
It seems to be looking at you
Each spoonful of fleshy meat
Seems to ask 'What did you do? '
(Smile - it's just a meal.)
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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I Bait With My Heart
'When you fish for love, bait with your heart, not your brain.'
Mark Twain (1835-1910)
since i shall fish
for love,
so i have love
as bait
not my brain
which has given
me more pain
than pleasure
the thoughts
that shy away
from the true meaning
of love
looking into the dictionary
of words
rather than deeds
because precisely
God has invented the
hug
so we may learn to
love sans
the uselessness of
words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Say It Bait It And Run
You can say it and run.
Say it and run.
About what's been done.
You can say it and berate it.
You can say it and run.
Say it and run.
About what's been done.
You can say it,
Leave and run.
How we slid to the bottom from the top.
Say it bait it and run.
Who did what to start this problem.
Say it bait it and run.
Corruption done under dirty rugs.
Say it bait it and run.
What thugs brought this to fisticuffs.
Say it bait it and run.
What party pooped their rule.
Say it bait it and run.
Who's too cool and cuckoo too!
Say it bait it and run.
You can say it and run.
Say it and run.
About what's been done.
You can say it and berate it.
You can say it and run.
Say it and run.
About what's been done.
You can say it,
Leave and run.
Who's too cool and cuckoo too!
Say it bait it and run.
Who's too cuckoo and too cool.
Say it bait it and run.
Who's too cool and cuckoo too!
Say it bait it and run.
Who's too cuckoo and too cool.
Say it bait it and run.
But that cool cuckoo's no fool.
To cause what has been done!
You can say it and run.
Say it and run.
About what's been done.
You can say it and berate it.
You can say it and run.
Say it and run.
About what's been done.
You can say it,
Leave it and run.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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At The Fishing Village
life is simple here
and i learn a lot
first, i put the bait
on the hook,
got an earth
worm
wriggling
attractive inside
the green
water
i throw the line
a fish
catches
the bait and
it is caught
i cook what i catch
and have
my own fill
i get what i
deserve.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fish Breath
Is having only
the bait
left in
the fish at hand
needing five more
fish
and both
hands
are full.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Lost Bait
I lost my bait
Where did I bait the last time?
My loss determined I don't prevail
I'd better go back to kids' playing
Instead of fishing on shore
Calm down I know what you want
But you just lost your wording chance
And the chance to fish a whale
Sitting there worried, anguished
Maybe feared so much
But you're so strong
And I'd better be retired
I lost my bait and I don't have fishing in my mind
Leaving the young one to be worried to death
poem by Yihuai Ying
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When I Was A Child
when i was a child
i used to fish in the nearby river
there was silence
i can hear the songs of the reeds
and the whispering sighs of the nipa palms
i sat and waited
until a fish swallows my hook, line and sinker
and the with one pull i got the fish
off the water and into the soil
it grapples for death
for taking my bait.
now, i have become a man
and i have nothing to do with the fishes anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Aquarium Fun
Have you ever seen an aquarium
With fancy fish swimming around?
Well I saw the most wonderful
Aquarium that I’ve ever found
Every color you can imagine
You’d find in a fish tank were there
Beautiful background for those fish
Not a single thing was spared
The cat fish were so enormous
You could imagine them in a pan
Fryin’ up so crispy brown
So tasty they’d never be bland
But instead we just enjoyed
Watching these fish on display
Swimming ‘round and ‘round
I once even saw them in play
I hope sometime if you haven’t
Been to an aquarium like this
Can observe their beauty as I did
These delightful and colorful fish!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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{{{ A Special Fish For Me? }}}
Yes there are many fish out in the sea,
but why can't I find one that will
best suit me,
well, I mean the fish in the sea are free,
yet all I keep doing is coming up is empty,
I start to believe,
then I begin to see, that, well, there just isn't one out there for me.
I go down to the sea, and I just look around,
well, again, there are no fortunate fish to be found!
Everyday I still continue to go down by the sea and sit down on the sand,
I look across the ocean and wonder is there another kind of
land to see,
to be able to relax and not have to act on command?
There is a fish for me,
because this is the way I was told it IS to be,
there has just gotta be that
special fish for me!
poem by Linda I. Weischedel
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Lonely Poets
Lonely poets submit lonely poems
Like their dogs and their exes
When your a redneck like me
We fish and we hunt,
Looking to hunt
When the old lady lets us
So check this out, I fished instead and caught a memory,
She never had seen even bait.
I told her for shark we needed mammals and such
We had a talk
She said it smelled like pure t hell
I said what the heck my chittlings turned green
So let's use them for bait or with asses to mate
Give it up for my long ear girl
, Shark bait is cheap and so is road kill