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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Related quotes
I Go Swimming
Ooh, I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the river, swimming in the sea
I go swimming
I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the pool, swimming is cool
I go swimming
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I need water, water to drink
Water on my brain, water sustain,
Water over me
I want water, water I need
Water to think, water to drink
Water over me
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
I go swimming, I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming, I go swimming
Oh I go swimming, I go swimming
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down in the deep water..
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I ponder my life
Just how did I get to this
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where the waterfall of dreams
Sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where time stands still
just only forever.
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I buried all
That was ever my childhood
Where I let it go,
Where it bends and meanders,
Twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
Were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the deep water,
I left the edge of the river,
As I looked down
For my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the deep water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......Sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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The fish of the season
The fish of the season
Coming into existence
The boat in the pool
The two sides of a flower
I grasp the splendid bow
And ride the stern of the boat
The moon goddess comes with a whisper
The moon-disk like tarnish sliver
The coming forth, the walking
From her abode
that the fish of season
Has fled the nets that
Take its misfortune
I was born free
So I know what
The fish is swimming for
Up stream pass Wisconsin boys
With baseball bats
Knee deep they knocks
The fishes out of the water.
poem by David E. Patton
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Fish food
Big and
Big...
Glass water pot...
Clour clour
Fishes
Flying on
Water...
Right too
Left...
Left too
Right...
Very beauty full
Fishes do
Same time
Clean
The water
At eat the water dust...!
Why...
It also food
For fish...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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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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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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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
Sinking..
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where I ponder my life
just how did I get to this
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where the waterfall of dreams
sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where time stands still
Just only forever.
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where I buried all
that was ever childhood
Where I let it go,
where it bends and meanders,
twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the water,
I left the edge of the river,
as I looked down
for my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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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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Sky And Water
Birds fly in the sky,
Below the fishes
Swim in the big flat sea.
A bird
Jumps into the water,
Head down, aiming
To catch a fish.
Deeper,
A fish, as it swims up
Toward the surface,
Catches the birds.
As the fish jumps into the air,
A bird catches the fish.
Fishes are birds,
Only water is not like
The air.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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River Death
River was
Running...
With water...
Water are
Nice too
Play with sands...
Trees...
Mountain rocks...
Swmming fishes...
Some time jump
With dive and swime...
Sun was see
Face at river water
Mirror...?
moon was
Click the eye
About
The river....
Animals are swimming
Birds also drinking...
People also
Swmming too
Wash the cloths...
River was
Every day run
Simply not sad...
At rainey time...
At winter time...
Summer time
River not run
Stop to stop
Death the river...
Sky cry...
With rain
Run the river...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Fishes
Fishes serene
Comfortable.....swim
Free these creatures
Swimming wild?
NO! ...in the fish pond
food thrown is man's send
Water changed
Beautiful his surroundings made
Greens provided
Friends to play
Fish in pond
In heaven of its own?
Truth?
A captive for the rest of his life
Even the fish
Pays for his comforts
In kind....
yet how serene..........
_____________________________ ___________
poem by Malini Kadir
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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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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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A Brook In The City
in my heart
a river runs
alluvial, fishes,
leaves, flowers and all
a catfish winds
its way up to the surface
shows its pinkish whiskers
and round mouth
and down in a fleet second
puyu splash
their way down
after a fall
bubble, splash, bubble, splash,
big fish, small fish,
breakdance
down the river
their only way to show
joy and gratitude
for nature's care
like a gymnast
they turn their tails up
bend and sweep
the water swivels
and down they go
head plunging
the river a stage
of tail splashing game
how the world has changed since
thirty years the sweep of a puyu's tail
i could still collect that childhood heart
that had gone afflutter
the river that has changed course
to run through my heart
calming nerves and evoking childhood joy
the river now buried deep
in the town's memory
the river now imprisoned
caged between cement walls
no more fishes, no more splashdance, breakdance
red water, blooms and leaves!
the river that now only has me as its fish
splashing every now and then
to let its sweetness flow forth
the river now buried deep in the earth
in the city's mind
inspired by
A Brook In The City
The farmhouse lingers, though averse to square
With the new city street it has to wear
A number in. But what about the brook
That held the house as in an elbow-crook?
I ask as one who knew the brook, its strength
And impulse, having dipped a finger length
And made it leap my knuckle, having tossed
A flower to try its currents where they crossed.
The meadow grass could be cemented down
From growing under pavements of a town;
The apple trees be sent to hearth-stone flame.
Is water wood to serve a brook the same?
How else dispose of an immortal force
No longer needed? Staunch it at its source
With cinder loads dumped down? The brook was thrown
Deep in a sewer dungeon under stone
In fetid darkness still to live and run -
And all for nothing it had ever done
Except forget to go in fear perhaps.
No one would know except for ancient maps
That such a brook ran water. But I wonder
If from its being kept forever under,
The thoughts may not have risen that so keep
This new-built city from both work and sleep.
Robert Frost
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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He Was Splashed
Before even he got splashed,
Our father had forbiden him from
All his fishing movement
He had made it clear
Like one with continuous fear
That his enemies might sink him in
That long-grassed river where
Hipoppotamers and crocodiles
Hunt and swimed daily
Dangerous was the river
He could not surrender, however
Because he always said that
Life without fishing
Was like putting
Water in a holed-jug.
Also, he did like the way
Fishes wiggled in the waters
He would say.
One glare hot summer,
One day in that summer,
Splashed, my brother was
For he came home late-
Around eight PM,
And our father had been
Hunting him all day-long
The small yellow-spotted fishes,
Our father threw-in the air
Like one who wasn't a dear
Next, his arm, he grabed and
Led him in the room that
He had arranged so well and
Put a pink pants-belt.
After, the laughter I could hear
So well I could hear,
And our mother's too, I could hear
But, hers was a mear one
That sounded like one'spity
Next morning after-while I swept the floor,
Shoked, I was
Seeing white milk that spotted the floor
And designs that snaked my brother,
Made my heart leap with joy
And that'show I knew the truth that
He was really splashed.
poem by Mariechantal Tuyisabe
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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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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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