Spawning Time
(Translation To: Laichzeit)
He loves his mother
and from the side
he gives the fish to her
it sheds its skin before empty testicles
the old skin falls on the floor
He loves his sister
and from behind
the fish eats to the mouth
the gills still bloody from sucking
on the big red eyes
Spawning time
it is spawning time
He loves his dog
oh god from above
the fish now kisses with his tongue
he spits dead milk in your face
you don't dare to touch him
Spawning time
fishmilk everywhere
it is spawning time
The mother has been taken by the sea
Spawning time
the sisters don't have time
Spawning time
the dog waves from the shore
Spawning time
the fish needs his loneliness
Spawning time
song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Middle Of The Night
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, will jennings, art neville
1983
Middle of the night
Hold on till morning
We will see the light
Love is spawning
Middle of the night
Hold on forever
Well know when its right
All together
When will we listen
When will we ever learn
Read all about it
This tide has got to turn
Middle of the night
Hold on till morning
We will see the light
Love is spawning
Middle of the night
Hold on forever
Well know when its right
All together
Old folks and babys
Theyre crying in the storm
I tried to tell them
Soon theyll be safe and warm
Middle of the night
Hold on till morning
We will see the light
Love is spawning
Middle of the night
Hold on forever
Well know when its right
All together
Lord let us out of this hall full of mirrors
Make it all clearer
Dont let us fall
In the middle of the night
Middle of the night
New voices calling
Saying its alright
Im not falling
Middle of the night
Halfway till morning
Middle of my life
New days dawning
Middle of the night
Hold on till morning
We will see the light
Love is spawning
Middle of the night
Hold on forever
Well know when its right
All together
Middle of the night
New voices calling
Saying its alright
Im not falling
Middle of the night
Halfway till morning
Middle of my life
New days dawning
Middle of the night
Hold on till morning
We will see the light
Love is spawning
Middle of the night
Hold on forever
Well no when its right
All together
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cage & Aquarium
Somebody's reading your mind
Damned if you know who it is
They're digging through all of your files
Stealing back your best ideas
You cover your windows with lead
Even keeping the pets outside
Then you hear a moment too late this sound coming over the phone
This is the spawning of the cage and aquarium
Don't wait a moment too soon
Used to be different, now you're the same
Yawn as your plane goes down in flames
This is the spawning of the cage and aquarium
Don't wait a moment too soon
Used to be different, now you're the same
Yawn as your plane goes down in flames
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cage Aquarium
Somebodys reading your mind
Damned if you know who it is
Theyre digging through all of your files
Stealing back your best ideas
You cover your windows with lead
Even keeping the pets outside
Then you hear a moment too late this sound coming over the phone
This is the spawning of the cage and aquarium
Dont wait a moment too soon
Used to be different, now youre the same
Yawn as your plane goes down in flames
This is the spawning of the cage and aquarium
Dont wait a moment too soon
Used to be different, now youre the same
Yawn as your plane goes down in flames
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brother, I've Seen Some
Brother, I've seen some
Astonishing sights:
A lion keeping watch
Over pasturing cows;
A mother delivered
After her son was;
A guru prostrated
Before his disciple;
Fish spawning
On treetops;
A cat carrying away
A dog;
A gunny-sack
Driving a bullock-cart;
A buffalo going out to graze,
Sitting on a horse;
A tree with its branches in the earth,
Its roots in the sky;
A tree with flowering roots.
This verse, says Kabir,
Is your key to the universe.
If you can figure it out.
It is, therefore, essential that we guard our own thinking and not be among those who cry out against prejudices applicable to themselves, while busy spawning intolerances for others.
quote by Wendell Willkie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blind Swings
gradients
vivid, humbling
I was collecting a bit of myself
reading anatomy
of animality
spawning the hidden eggs
flecks of echos scarring:
reconnecting to starry night
I could not hold my enrged otherself
and the homely smell of gunshots
orchestrated to send a message of
mayhem – for optic illusion
the reptiles have broken
the law for an oceanic boat
collecting the golden fish
on the burning ghats, streetscape
full of falling leaves and
bloody wings of black crows
poem by Satish Verma
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Those Wild Pink Salmon
Now, this ‘wild pink salmon’ thing…
are they just wild about pink
like that designer with the limp wrist
or wild like you wouldn't want
to share an estuary with them
or wild that they're not so good
at jumping up the waterfalls
or wild that they’re pink
when they’d like to be red
and so, wild that the other salmon are red
is it some muted colour-snobbery
like used to be in the Windies
between chocolate and coffee
and possibly I don’t know
between Red Indians and Pink Indians
whose mother got around a bit
though on the other hand
it could be boring on the reservation
being a Hiawatha brave or squaw
10 to 5 each day for the tourists
envying the other Indians
with a real job
like standing outside a cigar store
stained with nicotine
or even inside
is it like the Monty Python sketch
the pink salmon look up to the red salmon
but look down on the tame salmon
but then, are wild and tame
really opposites anyway
even if those are the correct terms individually
is it any consolation to wild pink salmon
that we think
they’re supposed to be salmon-pink anyway
so red salmon are the ones
to be red-faced
I mean how wild is wild
and how tame are farmed salmon
if at all
they could be wilder inside
about being hemmed in
when their wild brothers and sisters
are having a wild time
in the spawning grounds off Newfoundland
(though salmon won’t know it’s called that)
and so, excuse the phrase, see red?
and – the thought’s just struck me
like a slap around the gills
with a wet fish –
they probably don’t
read the label
there’s a message there
for all of us in this
colour-conscious age
poem by Michael Shepherd
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This Is No Fish Story
We had been up and down Redwood Creek
For what seemed to me to be all day
Watching my grandfather fish for salmon
We started at the mouth of the river
Hiked over sand rocks and slippery green moss
The only reason I was there was
The fried chicken and potato salad
My grandmother made the night before
Lunch seemed so far away
My grandfather was out of sight
He had worked his way upstream
When we heard him yell 'FISH ON! '
My grandmother who had been hanging back with me
Left me in the sand
I had to move fast to catch up
Moving around large pieces of driftwood
He had certainly hooked something
His rod bending if half then straightening
As he let line out
With the reel's drag on
I knew how to fish
I just didn't like to
I had no patience
I wasn't like bird hunting
If I got bored bird hunting
When I was by myself
With just my dog
I could take a shot anyway
Just for practice
To get the dog used to the noise
Because I had no patience
At the age of twelve
I had never seen so much line out before
He kept backing further up the wide beach
It looked to me as if the fish knew the way
And was headed back to the ocean
Hook in his mouth
My guess was he was no longer
In the mood for spawning
He had my grandfather on
Nothing personal on either side
My grandfather wanted to land the salmon
The salmon it appeared wanted
My grandfather in the water
This primal tug of war
Went on for some time
The salmon tried everything
It tried going behind submerged trees
It woud take a run
Straight at the beach
My grandfather reeling in the slack
As fast as he could
The salmon would then jump high
Doubling back away yanking on the line
Trying to dislodge the hook
Or snap the line (he'd been on before)
They were both getting tired
My grandfather timed the next
Pull on his fishing rod
With the jump of the salmon
Too close to shore this time
The beast was on the beach in front of me
My grandfather was still reeling in line
He knew it wasn't landed yet
He was hollering for my grandmother
To grab a piece of driftwood
To club the monster
Who was glaring at me with one eye
His other eye was in the sand
My grandfather's shinning metal lure
Stuck out of a bloody mouth
Gills were grasping for oxygen in dry air
I swear I saw in that eye the reflection
Of my grandmother running
A hunk of driftwood in hand
The eye saw it too
With one last flop like a large wrestler
Just before the count of three
He went up into the air
Snapped the line hit the water and was gone
I'm not sure what pound test the line was
Whatever it was it wasn't enough
My gandfather's favorite lure
With his hand-tied leader
Were following their catch
As fast as they could
Not knowing it was they
That had been caught
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Saturday Morning – Revisited
Saturday,
morning.
yawning
abyss-
spawning
activity
warning
that yawning
will follow
a too busy morning.
17 January 09.
poem by Colin Phillimore
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The Sulk
Lapis lazuli:
like a crazy theme of
hostile doctrine,
spawning a fierce battle
of bulge.
It was scary
like a scrawny lizard
climbing on the breasts.
The hoarse retreat of the arm,
when the lamb did not
squeal under the machete.
Poking in frozen mud,
to find the footprints of a mammoth,
when trees were bleeding.
poem by Satish Verma
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A Big Idea?
The moral dilemma was
unlearning.
less than truth.
Downgrading the-
branded witch.
Vaccine was spawning new virus.
O Buddha, why did you
started looking beautiful
and began sitting in a living room?
Trailing the smoke
I was going to find the-
burning home.
What were those intimate-
words of unthinkable
dirty secrets?
poem by Satish Verma
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Echoes
It was burning again
like goldenrods in drift valley of ethnic hate.
You start climbing down deeper in fear
holding tight your identity.
The anguish of ruined home
under the shadows of bribed hands,
runs on the bodies of pilgrims
who were protecting the unborn baby.
Along the shores of morality, a prodigal
becomes a martyr, forever a blind rock
in the womb of an infant truth, not yet
reached the gates of heaven.
A father begs for pardon, spawning the
tireless edicts, with its grieving craft
of burdens and weightlessness. The time’s predicament
will not tell the secret of death.
poem by Satish Verma
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Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 24
A weak fisherman caught a strong fish in his net and not being able to retain it the fish overcame him and pulled the net from his hand.
A boy went to bring water from the torrent.
The torrent came and took the boy away.
The net brought every time a fish.
This time the fish went and carried off the net.
The other fishermen were sorry and blamed him for not being able to retain such a fish which had fallen into his net. He replied: ‘O brothers, what can be done? My day was not lucky but the fish had yet one remaining. ‘Moral: A fisherman cannot catch a fish in the Tigris without a day of luck and a fish cannot die on dry ground without the decree of fate.
We were in the heart of the ghetto in Chicago during the Depression, and every block - it was probably the biggest black ghetto in America - every block also is the spawning ground practically for every gangster, black and white, in America too.
quote by Quincy Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jig Of Life
Hello, old lady.
I know your face well.
I know it well.
She says,
Ooh-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na!
Ill be sitting in your mirror.
Now is the place where the crossroads meet.
Will you look into the future?
Never, never say goodbye
To my part of your life.
No, no, no, no, no!
Oh, oh, oh,
Let me live!
She said.
Cmon and let me live, girl!
She said,
Cmon and let me live, girl!
(cmon and let me live!)
This moment in time,
(she said.)
It doesnt belong to you,
(she said,)
It belongs to me,
And to your little boy and to your little girl,
And the one hand clapping:
Where on your palm is my little line,
When youre written in mine
As an old memory?
Ooh, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-
Never, never say goodbye
To my part of your life.
Oh no, no, no, no, no!
Never, never, never!
Never, never let me go!
She said,
Cmon and let me live, girl!
(cmon and let me live!)
She said,
Cmon and let me live, girl!
(cmon and let me live!)
I put this
Moment..............................................here.
I put this moment.........................here.
I put this moment--
Over here!
Over here!
Cant you see where memories are kept bright?
Tripping on the water like a laughing girl.
Time in her eyes is spawning past life,
One with the ocean and the woman unfurled,
Holding all the love that waits for you here.
Catch us now for I am your future.
A kiss on the wind and well make the land.
Come over here to where when lingers,
Waiting in this empty world,
Waiting for then, when the lifespray cools.
For now does ride in on the curl of the wave,
And you will dance with me in the sunlit pools.
We are of the going water and the gone.
We are of water in the holy land of water
And all thats to come runs in
With the thrust on the strand.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snow
The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.
World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.
And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes–
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of your hands–
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
poem by Louis Macneice
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031010 Food Power
i reach the bottom of fish tank
to touch the bottom dweller
stuck to a rock like suction cup
she let me caress her as if she
know me, she's grown a bit
since i bought her at pet shop
this black big head fish i love
she doesn't move that much
i watch her gills close and open
she is always watching me
sometimes i saw her swim
just to get away from other fish
i used to tap the fish tank cover
before feeding them, amazing
every time i tap, they surface
how's that for teaching a fish
food is really powerful thing
just me i can't stop eating
poem by Manonton Dalan
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I Am Not The Forgotten One
I am not the forgotten
One this time
Becaue
God came
Back for me
This time
I think this time he
Finally realized
That I wanted
To follow him
All the way to the see
And that is what I did
And When I got there
Me
And all the rest of the people
Waited
For him to teach us how to fish
And learn to fish
poem by Aldo Kraas
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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
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Historic Mediterranean Spawning Grounds
back in April 2009 joyous new fishing season opens
today in historic Mediterranean spawning grounds
catch “king of sushi” maritime quick silver gold coins
northern bluefin tuna but beware grim reaper warns
current catch rates means it will die out in three years?
why would EU countries fish to extinction a child says?
bluefin sought after delicacy in luxury Far East markets?
sees ever higher prices being paid for one of the ocean’s
swiftest beautiful glorious water swim speedster predators;
but speeds up to 50 miles per hour in water are prey fleets
caught as rich red meat so desirable is palette Yen sate steaks;
but size of individual fish caught shrinks succeeding seasons
each year conservationists fear that even recent restrictions
imposed by lax European Union will not save enough adults
to keep bluefin stocks sustainable viable to preserve species
its demise is blamed on recent high tech new fishing vessels
vessels that can round up 3,000 bluefin in one go in the 1990s
most fish caught are frozen for air-freighting to Japan prices
depend on the fattiness of flesh with a record set in Tokyo’s
Tsukiji Market $55,700 (£37,400) for a 276kg (608lb) fish wins
a new 2008 sales
record but species
extinction threatens
new rare bid records
poem by Terence George Craddock
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