That Feeling
that feeling of being
a gold fish
inside a round glass bowl
where your world
is only water and
sand
and then hand takes
it and breaks the bowl on the floor
a gold fish wriggles
gasping for air
there is none
do you feel this now?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Gold Fish Bowl
(Instrumental & sax into)
What will it take for them to leave me alone?
Don't they know I'm just a guy who sings songs?
I'm not promoting no hit record
And I don't have no t.v. show
An' I don't have no reason
To live in the gold fish bowl
I'm just doin' my gigs
An' I'm on an' off the road
Ev'rything I say is not meant to be
Set in stone
Just because they call me a celebrity
That does not make it true
'Cause I don't believe in the myth, people
So, why should you?
Jazz, blues and funk
That's not rock an' roll
Folk with a beat an
Little bit a soul
I don't have no hit record
I don't have no t.v. show
Tell me, why should I have to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
(Instrumental and organ)
Well, the parasites and psychic vampires
Feeding on the public at large
Projectin' the shadow
Onto everyone at us
Well, the newspaper barons
Are scum of the lowest degree
And they prey on ev'rybody
They prey on you an' me
I'm singin' jazz, blues and funk
Baby, that's not rock an' roll
An' folk with a beat
An' a little bit a soul
I don't have no hit record
I don't have no t.v. show
So, why should I want to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
(Instrumental & sax)
So why should I want to
Live in this gold fish bowl?
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brenda's Lonely Fish
I am a tiny flame of gold
That flickers in a jar
I see the world in circles
Eyes watch me from afar
But I can only swim all day
In circles round and around
Out of the glass I see the world
But cannot hear a sound
Trapped inside a goldfish bowl
I swim round and around
I can never catch my tail
Or swim into the sea
Forever watched by strangers eyes
Alone and never free
The world is waiting somewhere
In a river rushing by
Full of fishes big and small, leaping up to touch the sky
But I can only wonder as I swim around all day
Inside my shiny glassy globe
At all thoses fishes out there at play
My mother is called Brenda
She won me at a fete
She's twenty stone and five foot one
And needs to lose some weight
Because I am a tiddler she said
I'll eat that fish
I'll fry that little tiddler
He'll make a tasty dish
For what's the point of keeping
One fish inside a glass?
Without a mate he's miserable
His life span's cut by half
So I'm being humane
To ease his pain, at last
I know I'm vegetarian
But one fishy dish can pass
I'll fry him quick in olive oil
With some nice brown onion rings
On a bed of rice he'll taste real nice
And he won't feel a thing
For death it comes to all of us
But for him it's not too soon
For their's no future for a lonely fish
Trapped in a bowl in my front room.
Of course I could take him to the pond
But the cat is sure to get him
He's better of inside my gut
Then it's easy to forget him!
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fish In The Fishbowl...
i see fish in a bowl
the size of the fish is just
enough for the bowl
and water is half-full
the fish swims freely and
breathes
air and lets it pass through
its lungs and three bubbles
rise up
and then disappears
at the surface
outside the house it is raining
heavily
the news of the river overflowing
the banks
is flashed on tv
warnings are given by the government
evacuation is eminent
carry only those which are necessary
foremost
save lives of the children and
the old sector
we are ready
we are not taking this fish bowl
the fish can take of itself
when we left
the fish flips its fins and breathes faster
releasing more bubbles on the surface of the water
it is the only creature i think
that is happy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fish Out Of Water
I feel so out of place here
With this high society
These high fallutin people
Dont know what to make of me
I feel like a minnow in a sea of moby dicks
A small fry in a big pan
Theyre caviar -- Im fish sticks
Fish out of water
I know I dont belong
Fish out of water
Everything I do is wrong
My style of hair, the clothes I wear
The way I speak, the things I eat
The way I act, my lack of tact
Nothin seems to fit
Fish out of water
Flounderin round
Out of my element
But Im just as good as they are
Why do I feel second rate
Its like, sorry charlie,
We want only tuna with good taste
I guess you could say wal-mart
Is quite a way from guccis
Im timex, theyre rolex
Im captain ds, theyre sushi
Fish out of water
Ive had it to the gills
Fish out of water
With these yuppie-guppie frills
Yeah, Im a square in a round hole
A catfish in a goldfish bowl
A little fish with lots of soul
Out of my element
Fish out of water
Flounderin round just for the halibut
Save me, save me
S.o.s. somebody
Save me, save me
Somebody rescue me
Fish out of water
Somebody throw me in
Fish out of water
On a scale of one to ten
Im a two, perhaps a three
Compared to the big fish in the sea
Im washed ashore so save me please
Im in an awful fix
Fish out of water
Rescue me
And you better do it quick
Fish out of water
Its such a culture shock
Fish out of water
My stomachs tied in knots
Fish out of water
Fish out of water
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Storm...!
My tiny car
Is gliding on
The grey band
Dissapearing into
A white wall
Gelled water
Falling from the sky
Floating across
The windshield
Has transformed
The wiper blades
Into two giant icicles
Swooshing across the glass
Making creepy sounds
The whiteness
Has conceled
The world around
Making me a fish
Swimming in a
Bowl of milk
A fish swimming alone
In a giant bowl of curdling milk
Trying to reach to the glass wall
And press its eye on to the glass
To peek at the solitary face
Gazing at the glass bowl
With her chin resting on her hand
Waiting...
Waiting for me to
Emerge through the milky darkness
To show my face...!
[Ah... glass walls... cruel invisible separators...]
poem by Rowving Smith
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A Nonsense Poem - a Villanelle
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little worm hops in a hole
A little hat has lost its sole
A little petal has no peel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little dog dances a reel
A little frog jumps on a mole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little boat rings out a peal
A little bell loses its keel
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little rock slips on a seal
A little perch walks on a pole
A little fish runs on a wheel
A little card shakes on a deal
A little sigh fancies a meal
A little mouse sings in a bowl
A little fish runs on a wheel
poem by Alison Cassidy
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Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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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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If My Fish Could Speak
If my two goldfish could speak
they would surely have long conversations
about the weight of pebbles in water
or the buoyancy of plastic plants.
I wonder what they would say as they play together:
nudging back and forth and swimming under and around each other’s feathery-fan tails.
“I love you more.”
“Noooo, I love you more.”
If my fish could brag
they’d tell you about their bowl on the window ledge and
how they watch the cars drive around the parking lot like a crazy human aquarium,
how the sun shines into their bowl in the afternoon,
and how it’s just like swimming through watery gold-dust.
They flutter around, showing off the way their orange skin gleams in the rays of light
that pour around the fake lotus flower I put in there.
(They love that too.)
If my fish could sing,
they would be hard to understand (singing underwater is a challenge-even for fish) .
My fish would know all the words to the newest Kelly Clarkson album,
The Garden State Soundtrack, and all of Prince’s dirtiest songs.
If my goldfish liked Prince, they’re favorite song would be Soft and Wet:
“You're just as soft as a lion tamed/You're just as wet as the evening rain/How will I take it when you call my name? /Your love is driving me...you're driving me insane”
If my fish could hear,
they’d tell you that I talk to myself.
They’d probably also tell you that they’re tired of me talking to them.
Most likely, I’ve assigned them the wrong gender
and they’re pissed about being called
he when it should be she, and she when it should be he.
Luckily for me, my fish are the tolerant kind,
and forgive me of this mistake.
If my fish could read,
they might compare me to Roald Dahl’s The BFG
and call me The BFS: Big Friendly Sara.
Although, as far as size goes, I am much bigger than the real BFG.
(The BFG was about 6 times bigger than Sophie, and I’m 63 times the size of my fish.)
Even though, in this scenario, I’m the taller of the two giants, I am not the superior. When I go to Dream Country to catch dreams, I come back only with bad ones
and I wouldn’t want to keep these in jars on my shelves, even if I could.
If my fish could drive,
they’d fly down the highway
not knowing where it would take them.
They’d snap photos (if fish could snap photos)
of sun rises and sunsets, of road signs, and of bugs that got smashed on the windshield.
They’d laugh and compare the car to their bowl on the window sill,
joking about getting wheels put on it for better parking-lot viewing.
And they’d wish that I was with them on the road.
If my fish could dream,
they’d have nightmares about the over-crowded tanks at Meijer where I bought them.
They’d wake up gasping, and frantically find each other in the dark water.
My fish would also dream about moving on to a larger bowl, somewhere on the eat coast.
Images of sea-life and waves would disappear
When I switched on my desk lamp and said,
“Good morning, my darlings.”
They’d feel guilty about wanting to leave.
If my fish could speak,
they’d tell you that I call them my babies.
They are the silent watchers of my bedroom corner.
It doesn’t matter that I “read like an open book.”
It may be obvious to the world what I’m feeling, but that doesn’t matter to my fish.
They are low-maintenance friends that never assume, expect, or guess
what it is I want to say.
They can only listen.
poem by Sara Waalkes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Futile is Life if Swapped!
A fish out of its water-bowl!
A Pup within a fishes’-bowl!
–Unnatural are both these things,
And life could end for both earthlings!
Fish-gills are meant for oxygen
Dissolved in water and not air;
Pup’s lungs need air to breathe and live;
It can’t stay long under-water!
Fish-fins help it to move about
In water most effortlessly;
A pup can’t be confined without
the needed space to run and play!
All lives are meant for habitats
Specifically pre-destined;
One cannot live a normal life,
With living conditions exchanged!
God made the land for beasts with lungs
To breathe the oxygen in air;
God made the fish cold-blooded to
Swim freely and feed in water.
God made each being with purpose;
Man cannot fly like birds of air;
Nor can he live within water;
Each one must know his/her confines!
Why risk one’s life to do a thing,
Which is not worth the risks, one takes?
Why play with life – a priceless gift
From God above to all earthlings?
The fool endangers his one life
To do something that is worthless;
Great souls will sacrifice their lives
In saving many more brethren!
Life is most precious wealth on earth;
Spend all our wealth to save our health.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-5-2008
poem by John Celes
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Sonata For You
You need to have companionship
You need to have a vocation
You have to frame yourself
You have to take the world with you
You need to set boudaries
You live in that fish bowl and you need to come out
I am the plant inside that fish tank
You need to spend time with people
And get to know people
poem by Aldo Kraas
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A World A Universe
to the pebbles below the fish
and the bubbles
the fish is the only
meaning of their existence
its scales are the suns
its tails meteors
its eyes the gods
and fins the winds
the bowl is the emptiness
the water surrounding is the fullness
to all of them
the world is perfect
their eternity is only
this moment
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fish In A Bowl
Everywhere I go
A thousand faces stare at me
Eating from the palm
A date from hand to mouth
Break a leg!
The shoes are on the bottom
On your way
But the wardrobe always stays wide open
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
Everywhere I go
All bob and weave
Or sew it seams
Aiming low in life
They keep their noses clean
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
An ordered life from start to finish
And my timing is out
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up...fish!
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Future Leader
Can you imagine?
What kind of person will become a leader
on two years from now?
Is that should be a professor?
Is that should be like a religious people?
Is that should be like a lovely person?
Is that should be a too kind and generous people?
Is that should be like a strict and rude people?
A leader is like a gold fish inside aquarium
People will see from many side
Sometimes it looks so cute
Sometimes it looks so ugly
Sometimes it looks so brightly
But you know, it still gold fish
No one can deny it
This fish never bother what people think
This fish only think that it has part
To bring a nice view inside aquarium
I think our future leader should be like that
Because if we choose them it means
This person can be seen from many sides
And this is our fish
We should trust it and be a good viewer
The Sea’s Fish
Fish are commands of the sea,
Opening our shelves and brilliance.
Guard yourself from the hungry fish,
Letting them go in the sea and ocean.
Inside the fish are fishes, of gold,
Of silver and flesh, of simple metal.
Let this be a challenge for the mighty in health,
Not for a soul too weak, afraid of fish.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Runes of Weland's Sword
1906
A smith makes me
To betray my Man
In my first fight.
To gather Gold
At the world's end
I am sent.
The Gold I gather
Comes into England
Out of deep Water.
Like a shining Fish
Then it descends
Into deep Water.
It is not given
For goods or gear,
But for The Thing.
The Gold I gather
A King covets
For an ill use
The Gold I gather
Is drawn up
Out of deep Water.
Like a shining Fish
Then it descends
Into deep Water.
It is not given
For goods or gear,
But for The Thing.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Pit of Suffering
Disappearing into a vortex,
Into a whirlpool of despair,
My mind is forever falling,
As I grasp for help but no ones there,
But my fight for breath is escalating,
As the demons deep within,
Plummet with me into the darkness,
Into the pit of suffering,
Then I feel my heart beat intensifying,
As it races out of control,
Round and around like a gold fish,
Swimming around in its bowl,
So will somebody help me?
In this madness,
Help me to escape from within,
Throw me a line,
And help me break free,
From the hands in the pit of suffering.
poem by Darren Harris
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A Muse From The Forest
The white gold,
The black gold,
The red gold,
The yellow gold,
'Obroni-Nephew' is about to teach you all;
Like the very call of a muse from the forest.
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects;
The very call from the forest with a view but,
Do you like to be fed with crocodile meat?
The lizard meat,
The lion meat,
The tiger meat,
The snake meat,
The elephant meat,
Life is like that for many who eat everything;
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects.
Life is like a visit to the biggest cemetery on earth,
Do you like to be fed with cockroaches?
Whatever we eat today,
We will be burried one day.
Of the brown gold,
Of the orange gold,
Of the green gold,
Of the blue gold,
The Chinese eat all meat, fish and insects.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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