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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Related quotes
Lucky Catch
Once saw a small boy
Hand line a very large fish
Very lucky boy!
With expensive gear
Fisherman cast very far
Not a single fish
'Boy could barely cast'
Remarked the old fisherman
'Just beginners luck'
True about boy's skills.
Could only cast to the fish
Feeding at his feet
Not just gear or skill
To be lucky in fishing:
Fish where the fish are!
poem by Zen Bojczuk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Angry
So scream you, out from behind the bitter ache
Heavy on the memory, you need most
Still want love, ugly, smooth and delicate
Not without affection, not alone
And instead of wishing that it would get better
Man you're seeing that you just get angrier
And it's good that I'm not angry
I just need to get over
I'm not angry, anymore
Cry when you cry, run when you run
Love when you love
Represent the ashes
That you leave behind
And instead of wishing that the road had shoulder
Man you're seeing that you're sinking over time
And it's good that I'm not angry
I just need to get over
I'm not angry
It's dragging me under
I'm not angry
I'm not angry it's never been enough
It gets inside and it tears you up
I'm not angry but I've never been above it
You see through me don't you
And it's good that I'm not angry
I just need to get over
I'm not angry
It's dragging me under
I'm not angry
And it's good that I'm not angry
I just need to get over
I'm not angry, anymore
song performed by by Matchbox Twenty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Persistently Pursuing Piscine Protein
Once again whilst fishing at the beach,
The fish they all stayed out of reach,
I think they knew that I was there,
And so my fish bag it stayed bare.
Nothing in there for me to eat,
The scaly ones had me beat,
But such is the nature of this fisherman,
I'll be trying again as soon as I can,
And next time I'll catch fish a' plenty,
Not going home with my fish bag empty.
This optimism keeps shining bright,
No matter how often on a cold wet night,
I venture out and fail to catch,
I know next time will be game, set, and match.
To me the stupidly determined one,
Who keeps on fishing when all hope is gone!
Tom Higgins 19/11/2012
poem by Tom Higgins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Angry
So scream you, out from behind the bitter ache
Heavy on the memory, you need most
Still want love, ugly, smooth and delicate
Not without affection, not alone
And instead of wishing that it would get better
Man youre seeing that you just get angrier
And its good that Im not angry
I just need to get over
Im not angry, anymore
Cry when you cry, run when you run
Love when you love
Represent the ashes
That you leave behind
And instead of wishing that the road had shoulder
Man youre seeing that youre sinking over time
And its good that Im not angry
I just need to get over
Im not angry
Its dragging me under
Im not angry
Im not angry its never been enough
It gets inside and it tears you up
Im not angry but Ive never been above it
You see through me dont you
And its good that Im not angry
I just need to get over
Im not angry
Its dragging me under
Im not angry
And its good that Im not angry
I just need to get over
Im not angry, anymore
song performed by by Matchbox 20
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Fisherman
At night
A man sat there drenched in the dull candle light
He sat there rod in hand
He wished that he might
Be able to catch a fish this night
He liked the pull the thrill the fight
How the fish thrashes on sensing death in sight
On this island so small there is no need for pity
A fisherman knows that killing is not pretty
But to keep money in the pocket
And a belly full of fish
A fisherman must cast out his line
So that someone can have there next dish
It was easy for him
The fisherman I mean
He always enjoyed this scene
Sitting at the edge of the dock
With his bucket, candle, rod, and radio clock
All he has to do is reel in from time to time
Just to check on his bait
And some people are impatient
But he liked the wait
The sea breeze on his face
The sound of crashing waves all over the place
His quiet canopy has fallen around him
The white noise of the ocean could always be broken on a whim
I think he heard us
Because he just shuddered as you caused all the fuss
“You! You think I am lonely, I thank you for your concern”
Turning and smiling his beard looking like a fern
He gnarls his teeth as if he just ate a leaf
“I am happy in this quiet, you can join me if you wish. Just keep quiet”!
“Or you’ll scare away all of my fish”
Written: November 30,2010
poem by Ryan Collins
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On An April Evening In The Fall
With folded wings the fishing gannets plunge into the sea
And the nuggety old man with fishing rod was waiting patiently
For a fish to bite as the incoming waves splashed quite close to his feet
And each new wave it came surging in as each old wave did retreat.
Have you been catching many fish today? of the fisherman I inquired
Not been doing too well today mate the old fellow replied
I've yet to catch a fish today, sometimes in the rising tide
From cover they don't venture out between the rocks they hide.
I'll stay another hour he said at least until twilight
The wife would like a good sized fish to cook for tea tonight
Still I don't like my chances much it's a quarter after four
I'll stay till a quarter after five and not one second more
The silver gulls cry on the beach the angry ocean roar
The gannets fishing on the bay, the old man from the shore
And people walking on the beach before their evening tea
On a sunny evening in April in the Fall by the Pacific sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Setting The Small Fry Free
a small fry
is caught the
net with a very
fine mesh
you are the fisherman
who catches the small fish
in your hand
and then you sail back
to the sea
setting the small fry free!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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The Ballad of Angry O
Angry O, you scare me so
Hateful letter that you be
Angry O, the fear I show
When you growl at me
Angry O, I hope you go
And learn to fix your ways
Angry O, I think you know
You leave me in a haze
Angry O, One day you'll Sow
Everything you reap
Angry O, Then you'll feel low
This promise I do keep
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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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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Ketapang Leafs
Ketapang leafs
dropp float in the air
Brought by West Winds
To pounce on the dying fish
flondered
Crushed by rolling waves of Bali Straits
While camar birds
Shivered with cold in they nest
Took shelter from the cold sea wind, dry and
Flying the dust
While fisherman
Choose living in their brittle shelter
Waiting for the wind calm down
Where roling waves not to rage
Hurricane, dying fishes
Washed ashore in the beach
Only own of carcass eaters bird
Fisherman could waiting only
Til the good season back again
While they only could do wishes
And life from kindness of usuer
Defend from the west wind
Dry, the rage of waves
When the Hurricane was subsided
fullmoon illuminates the earth and sea
the fish have a partywe should go to sea
to fish with a net
for paying our debt to usuer
but oil price flying up and much higher
we could not anything to do
bogor,17/09/05
poem by Prasetya Utama
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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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Jigger
Jigger was a fisherman
and only had one wish
he really really wanted
to catch a friggin Fish
he fished for 39 years
didn't even get a nibble
after all his tears
he mouth began to dribble
On one warm sunny afternoon
he drew out his rod, was late June
low and behold on his line was a fish
after, he saw it was dead,
he had only one more wish
that he would never catch another fish
poem by David Darbyshire
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Heart Of Stone
A broken wing, and a broken bone
Of a bird, that met a stone
Lied helpless And was bit despair
Looked above If god was there.
Short of food And short of breath
Was silently waiting For his death
Asked his wings If they could fly.
Yes they said why don't you try
He gathered his strength and wiped his tears.
And soon he stood Without his fears
His eyes stared at the Dark blue sky
But just then when he was about to fly
they grabbed his neck they grabbed it hard
with all his strength he could move a yard
and yes those hands did hurt his bone
he had met a heart of stone
some ugly hands and a beautiful bird.
He cried for help But no one heard.
His wings were flawed And his muscles were stiff.
He begged them to throw him off a cliff
oh dumb bird, don't you get,
look at you, it's a stone you met.
To this, the half dead bird replied
So what, if I die
Just for once I ll meet the air.
And also see if god was there.
Stories of wisdom, that were once told
But now this world had been so cold.
He wished if those blind eyes could see.
The bird was dead though his soul was free.
poem by Kanav Justa
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angry
' why are you so angry, ' the girl with the red hair asked me.
'why are YOU so angry, girl with the red hair'
'That's not important were here to talk about you.'
'Could you quit calling me that? '
'NO'
'I wasn't asking'
'But I was telling ya, girl with the red hair'
'lets get back to your anger'
'But i thought we were talking about your anger, so what makes you angry, ms'
'what makes you.angry, girl with the red hair? '
'you calling me that name what name, Girl with the red hair? '
'yes'
'why does it make you angry, girl with the red hair? '
'because all my life people have picked on me because of my RED HAIR.'
'O, well sorry to hear that'
'yeah'
'Well now that we atlked about your anger lets talk about mine...'
poem by Ke'Love Moss
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Angry Eyes
Time, time and again I see you staring down at me
Now, then and again I wonder what it is that you see
With those angry eyes
Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down
With those angry eyes
You want to believe that I am not the same as you
And now I cant conceive, oh lord, of what it is youre trying to do
With those angry eyes
Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down
With those angry eyes
What a shot you could be if you could shoot at me
With those angry eyes
You and I must start to realize
Blindness binds us in a false disguise
Can you see me through those angry eyes?
You try to defend that you are not the one to blame
But Im finding it hard, my friend, when I m in the deadly aim
Of those angry eyes
Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down
With those angry eyes
What a shot you could be if you could shoot at me
With those angry eyes
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In and outside worlds
When I was small
we had a green carpet
in the living room
that like a lawn
stretched out wide, thick and luxurious.
The ceiling was the sky,
big fans made wind
and lights came on at night
like suns.
The shower was
where you make your own rain
to be cleaned
and every tap a small fountain.
Sometimes a bird
flew into the house
and was cordoned off
and flew everywhere
and completed the picture
of man’s inner world
to me.
Still man just copies
the Creator
and outside the sky is stretched out,
every night full of stars
and day after day the sun appears
and the wind blows
as it find it necessary
and all the birds fly free
and the grass spread by itself.
poem by Gert Strydom
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