Babe
granting that you want to be transformed into a fish,
let me be your aggressive cormorant.
i will take you whole.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Man's Evolution From A Fish
granting that you
come from a cell
which transformed
into a fish with
propensity for
feet, until
the tails become
a set of feet,
when you were
a fish then, do you
still remember your
favorite food?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ramblings Of A Researcher
bury the head
deep into paper files
like one cormorant
looking for
deep sea fish
one finally longs for
air to breathe
a face to see
like the one you missed so much
yet you cannot even
touch
you rise with the fish
on your beak
swallow everything
but nothing satisfies
not the books
not the fish
not even that face that you long to see
this time
it is the memory of the deep sea
that entangles you
like a flower
vine creeping
holding on to the trellis
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Little Black Cormorant
By inlet and islet and wide river reaches,
By lake and lagoon I'm at home,
Yet oft' the far forests of blue-gum and beeches
About the broad ranges I roam,
'There's a strange, sombre bird with a hook in his beak.'
'Tis the little black cormorant raiding your creek.
And woe to the fisher and woe to the fishes
A gourmand I freely confess
When I come a-searching for succulent dishes,
Arrayed in my funeral dress,
Then the fishermen rave, and in anger they speak:
'There's a little black cormorant coming up creek!'
But I'm quick and I'm cunning, as many a greyling,
A blackfish, a trout or a bream
Has known to his sorrow when down I go sailing
To hunt him beneath the dark stream.
To my cavernous maw then they all come alike,
And 'tis death should the little black cormorant strike.
But I am an outlaw. I'm hunted and harried,
I'm banned from the havens of men.
And woe is to me if to long I have tarried
A shot o'er the waters - and then,
There is reason indeed for my funeral dress,
For, alas, here's a little black cormorant less.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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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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We were too young to know better, and none of us were very aggressive people. It would have helped a lot if just one of us had been aggressive enough to say no.
quote by Edie Brickell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Aggressive
I started this
Its all for me
Whats yours is mine and mine is mine
Thats plain to see
So give it up
Ive got to have
I swalllow, I swalllow, I swalllow, I swalllow
Be aggressive
B-e aggressive
B-e-a-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e
What someone else
Would leave behind
And spit it out, let go to waste
I claim as mine
Youre my flavour of the week
I swalllow, I swalllow, I swalllow, I swalllow
Tall and reckless
Ugly seed
Reach down my throat
You filthy bird
Thats all I need
The empty pit
Ive got to feed
To prove Im fit
A healthy man
Ive got to be
Malnutrition, my submission
Youre the master and I take it on my knees
Ejaculation
Tribulation
I swalllow, I swalllow, I swalllow, I swalllow
Be aggressive
B-e aggressive
B-e-a-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e
Go, fight, go, fight, go, fight, go, fight, win
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Tiny Rhyme
Fish oh! fish
swish a miss
wish on hiss
shush to hush
Push push
oh! fish
flush a blush
fresh 'n' mush
Fish oh! fish
slush the gush
slash in gash
splash the plush
Fish oh! fish
pose to posh
rush a mash
fish oh! gosh!
poem by Mubeen Sadhika
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When I remember the fish
When I remember the fish,
The river longed me to go,
Wriggling and meandering, slippery in this
Imaginary waters of my world,
I become a fish.
When eye sea them eat the fish;
They cast their nets for a random catch, they
Drop their hooks for a strangling pull, then,
I become a fish no more.
When them fail to catch the fish;
As the fish wriggles an escape,
Then eye long to be like one as eye
Wonder whether or not am a fish.
©1998
poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka
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Morning Cormorant
A sudden sight, a wonder in the humdrum
Among the thronging streets of run-down London
Upon the river bank, crammed in by traffic
A perched, black bird, though nothing as dramatic
As flocks of squawking seagulls on the common
But this sole, common shag won't be forgotten:
Uncommon cormorant, a seaside fisher
Who chose to catch his fish in my New River,
A morning miracle of inspiration
That brightened my dull bus-ride to the station.
poem by C. Richard Miles
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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.
Swedish Fish
Green or red, goodnight, remember
Green is best of all the flavours
Go ahead, its only water
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my secret wish
Talk to me, I need attention
Tell me all of your confessions
Tell me if I cease to mention
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my pisces gift
Im never coming back
I am too far gone
Wont you be heading this way
Before too long?
Im holding on you
To you
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my secret wish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
I love my swedish fish
Hes my favourite gift
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Still, most of those effects occur in the context of harmless play and it is patently obvious that children are not normally turned into aggressive little monsters by TV or video games, since most children do not become aggressive little monsters.
quote by Hugh Mackay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Tanks For The Memories
tank you, tank you, tank you
we told the fish, those wonderful fish
those little tropical fish, that could reboot our dreary days
we could imagine their little fish politics and why one was chased
the tail nippers, the food stealers, the baby filled fish mothers
what wonderful memories I have of the fish tanks of yesterday
and today, now that my child has befriended the fish
relax, techno man, relax
and just rest with the fishes
poem by Louis Marvin
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Cat Fish
Cat fish play and leap witter-wotter. Over slow yonder. Purple mountains, apple skys, and jam taste like yip. Yap cat fish grew, so fast they licked ripe grass. Lumber slumbers in cat fish numbers. Lovers and muggers fall in deep cat fish reign. Cat fish took a long slumber on there yonder and were eaten by cat fish toddlers. The end!
poem by Shania K. Younce
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A Delicious Fish's Wishes
Fish, fish, what do you wish?
To each his own,
BUT
I wish
for a fish
on a dish
(mmm... delish!)
'Ah, pish! '
says the darned fish.
'I wish to be
in the sea
swimming free
and...
perhaps...
drinking...
so me...
tea? '
(muttered he,
dreamily.)
'But all in all, just me being me.'
But suddenly!
A bee
stung me
on the knee
(ouch! said I. er, me)
Back to earth with Bree!
And I'm left to wonder
If me the fish would berate
Were he not lying postrate
dead
on my plate...
poem by Breanna Cazalet
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The fish in me
Iam vegan, but! There is a fish in me.
The selfishness in me starts fuming,
..Every now and then makes me feel like crawl,
I make my world as small as possible,
Am I selfish?
Whenever “this fish” dominates
Its only one letter work “I”, “I” and “I”, I ponder
“This fish” screech
What about me? ? What about me? ?
This fish is whirling in the sea of jealousy,
I wish this sea of jealousy get dried up
And the fish to die in want of water.
poem by Tara Chettur
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The Fish Year
Marico brought back a tank with salt water from Brazil,
Wnetta bought small stones and water plants from pet store,
The red fish and black fish were got from
Hua’s backyard pond,
After Chris checking the filter
and water temperature,
everything is set,
and the fish is ready to grow and bred.
Gundi feeds the fish everyday,
and watches them day and night.
The red fish swim up and down,
The black fish swim down and up,
The green water plants swing their long leaves
upside down.
We can hear the talk from the tank:
One lady, two ladies, three ladies…
One man, two men, three men…
American, German, Chinese, Brazilian,
Indian, Russian…
The fish is counting! ! !
Counting the people in the lab!
Maybe they learned the counting from Gundi,
Gundi is a great mathematician,
She always counts when she watches them:
One fish, two fish, three fish…
Red fish, black fish, red-black fish…
That’s our first fish year,
we expect to have the second, the third,
and then for ever.
poem by Dongming Zhou
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