Walking And Fishing
an early morning walk is like
a fishing venture where you sail with your boat alone on the waters
you wait and some ripples come
and then you remember
you catch fish, you stumble upon a stone
you take hold of each, and then the ripples are gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fishers
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And before the sun comes out the sky looks gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are off fishing
They left quite early at the break of day.
They tow their boat to the ramp at San Remo
But only on a calm and windless day
And within sight of land they dropp their anchor
Where the fish might be schooling on the quiet bay.
For them a pleasant way to spend their morning
To fish with rods and lines from boat for three hours or four
Especially when the hungry fish are biting
A good morning's catch some twenty fish or more.
The gentle waves against the boat keep lapping
And the sun breaks through the clouds just after nine
It must be soothing for the nerves and pleasant
To sit and relax and fish in the sun shine.
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And the sun at nine shines through the clouds of gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are out fishing
In their boat anchored on San Remo bay
poem by Francis Duggan
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Little Ripples
On a tranquil sea.
Are they really that calm?
Can I cross them,
Like a bump in the road.
Do I find the strength
Like in youthful naivety?)
To speed on through
Till one overtakes me
In my mind.
Little ripples.
They scare me so.
I keep swimming day by day.
Eyes just above the ripples.
Little ripples, Little ripples
Be kind to my mind!
The salt water relaxation
Is taking me away
From earthly cares.
But how many more ripples
Can I surmount?
Before I give up
And just become a memory
In peoples minds`.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Ripples
Bluegirls come in every size
Some are wise and some otherwise,
They got pretty blue eyes.
For an hour a man may change
For an hour her face looks strange -
Looks strange, looks strange.
Marching to the promised land
Where the honey flows and takes you by the hand,
Pulls you down on your knees,
While youre down a pool appears.
The face in the water looks up,
And she shakes her head as if to say
That its the last time youll look like today.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Sail away, away.
The face that launched a thousand ships
Is sinking fast, that happens you know,
The water gets below.
Seems not very long ago
Lovelier she was than any that I know.
Angels never know its time
To close the book and gracefully decline,
The song has found a tale.
My, what a jealous pool is she.
The face in the water looks up
She shakes her head as if to say
That the bluegirls have all gone away.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Theyve gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
Ripples never come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Oh, theyve gone to the other side...
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
The ripples never come back, come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Theyve gone to the other side
Ripples never come back
Sail away, away...
song performed by by Genesis
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
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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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Stars in the Sea
I took a boat on a starry night
and went for a row on the water,
and she danced like a child on a wake of light
and bowed where the ripples caught her.
I vowed, as I rowed on the velvet blue
through the night and the starry spendour
to woo and sue a maiden I know
till she bent to my pleading tender.
My painted boat she was light and glad
and gladder my heart was wishing,
and I came in time to a little lad
who stood on the rocks a-fishing.
I said "Ahoy!" and he said "Ahoy"!
and I asked how the fish were biting;
And what are you trying to catch my boy,
Bream, silver and red - or Whiting?"
"Neither", he answered, "the seaweed mars
my line, and the sharp shells sunder;
I am trying my luck wth those great big stars
down there in the round skies under".
"Goodbye!" from him and "Goodbye!" from me,
and never a laugh came after;
So many fishing for stars in the sea
that it's hardly a subject for laughter
poem by Roderic Quinn
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My Fishing Hole
I'm going down to my fishing hole,
Got my tackle box, and Garcia pole.
Gonna catch a mess of fish for lunch,
Fry em up in my pan, I love that crunch.
With a bitsy minnow on my line,
I'll catch enough, so all can dine.
Hoping for blue gills and sunfish too,
I love fishing that's what I do.
I got a sandwich and a couple of beers,
I do love fishing, I hold it dear.
Look at this fishing hole, what a beautiful sight,
Hold on, hold on now, I got a bite.
11/16/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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At dusk as I urged the fish too bite
I remember the lake light shining
Like a disk as I fished for perch or pike
At dusk as I urged the fish too bite!
Bite a spoon of shimmering bait…
I remember bats flitting and circling
Like the insects they longed to catch…
And the ripples left by fish, that had.
I remember the blunt roll-call home…
The boathouse like a sarcophagus…
With its two well rotten doors
Gaping open; like malnourished jaws.
Awaiting, deaths ferrymen back.
Back to them; keep net shores.
I remember the rolling. Fog, rising
About the gnarled chestnut trees
Billowing-out; into brackish reeds…
And then a slice of moon leaping,
Frantic; pulling line from my spool.
I remember the lake light shining
In the scales of a real; living ghoul
Plucked out of the waters fighting…
Was a fish that wasn't preschool.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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My First Fishing Trip
Went with dad to Port Isabel to learn to fish,
‘Cause to catch a fish I told him that I did wish.
So to Purdy’s Court fishing pier,
We went with all our fishing-gear.
Yes, that fishing trip with dad I’ll always cherish!
There we were, him giving me casting instruction,
Then he baited my hook with a live crustacean,
I cast out high in the sky.
To catch a big fish to fry,
But instead, caught a sea gull - as consolation!
poem by Bobby Beddoe
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Tears and Laughter
Frothy clouds swell in canticle spring
Feathers of the poets dream
Gentle blossoms revive the soul
Bells ring in mist of morning
Cambric past ripples on the water
Memory of sea gulls and fishing boats
Ripples of wind swept mountains
Silvery time glides free like eagles
Blankets of grief cover the heart
We hold hands under the bold sun
Ice cream cones on a Sunday ride
Cast iron stove at grandmas
A walk in the zoo
See the moon in constant serenity
Feel the leaves bud anew
Can we open the doors of resolution?
So many gone
Be brave
Love is resilient
She squeezes my hand
Family goes on and on
Life is tears and laughter
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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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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Joy of Fishing
Oh how I enjoyed so very much
Fishing off a bridge
Or perhaps ‘long side the road
Or from up on a slight ridge
I remember many years ago
On the first day of the season
Going out before daylight
Getting my limit was the reason
Cold when I would paddle out
In a small and rented boat
And if I caught lots of fish
Oh, how I loved to gloat
But it was fun, I remember
As I tossed the long line out
And when I’d feel that tug
I’d wait to give a mighty shout
Until that little fish was on
And I’d nailed him on the spot
It was so much fun, my friend
Especially if he really fought
By the afternoon it was hot
So a cold drink I’d be wishing
And ready to go out again
For the ultimate joy of fishing!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Watching the hours pass by
Johnny sits waiting all day
For fish to arrive
He wonders whether they have died
For hours and hours he waits for the fish to take it’s bait
A ripple in the lake
Sends his fishing rod a warning
The worm has been spiced up for the fish
Its fragrance was aroused in the lake
The fish tasted the hot spices in the cool lake
“Steady old girl” says Johnny with a smile
“ Soon you will be mine”
Ripples overlap
The fish rod numbs with pain
The fish battles with the rod
Johnny pulls harder
He will not let go
Its weight surpasses that of a stone
The fish hooks himself loose
The ripple disappears
Johnny sits waiting at the end of the lake
Waiting for another to taste his spicy bait
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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God Asked Noah
Before the world was drenched in shame
Ere Satan reigned in man
The Father Son and Holy Flame
Wrote down salvation’s plan
Then God told man to build a boat
In faith to walk inside
But only eight were kept afloat
All unbelievers died
“I thank You Lord for saving me
For I was drowning too
From certain death You’ve set me free
And gave me life anew
Allow me in Your boat to sail
I’ve heard my Saviour’s call
In Christ I know I’ll never fail
Nor from Your grace will fall
I long to be a lifeboat Lord
Returning to the sea
Calling Your fish to climb on board
As Jesus did for me
With Christ I’ll sail to far off shores
In truth from port to port
We’ll free the catch from Satan’s claws
We’ll fish till all are caught
The wind is right the course is set
My Lord is at the helm
Let’s hoist the sail cast wide the net
Let’s fish throughout Your realm
Let’s cast our nets in every land
Let’s sail in one accord
Let’s teach the fish to understand
How safe is life on board.
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Sail Away
Walk a cold thin line
in the morning
Hold the fear inside
that greets you with the day
I can't go with you now
I can only watch you now
As you sail away
Sail away
I'm going to miss you now
So much more then I realised
There's a heavy stone of empty
where you once lay
I can't go with you now
I can only watch you now
Watch you
As you sail away
Sail away
I know you need your freedom
Sail away
Cause without it you can't survive
Be on your way
disappear into the distance
I smile and say
Sail away
I can't go with you now
I can only watch you now
Watch you
As you sail away
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do You Remember
Do you remember
Picking up rocks and skipping them
By the people fishing
Do you remember
Having them yell at us
For scaring the fish away
Do you remember
Running as fast as we can
So they wouldn't catch us
Do you remember
How happy we were
When they didn't catch us
Do you remember
When we got home that day
And you started drinking
And got mad when the liquor ran out
Do you remember
When you stumbled outside
To get another bottle
Do you remember
The cop came to arrest you
And how you made a scene
Do you remember
Being so mad about it
That you kicked the cops window out
Do you remember
All of us watching you
As they took you away
Do you remember
When they added another charge
To your already long police record
Rippling Waters
Rippling Waters
By: Adam M. Snow
Let the water ripples;
as our reflection is shown.
For it has tripled;
for we are all alone.
Let the rain dropp upon rippling waters;
showing us our past and our future.
For we are no longer curse;
for it shows what we once were.
Let our reflection in the ripples show;
how our love gently flow.
For our touch is also smooth;
for there is no need to lie for we know the truth.
Let the moon beam upon our reflection;
showing us there is no affliction.
Let our reflection in the ripples show;
how our love gently flow.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Standing By The Brook One Day
a stone from my hand
ripples the waters of the brook
taking me to the turmoils
of childhood.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Boat To Sail
Youre up state, up late, and city fed
Im a california label
From the top of my head,
Forever, ah
See a lot of open sky
When the sun goes down
Theres a hot, lot of loving when you come
Around, to free me, ah
In a boat to sail, boat to sail, away, ah
All those letters mailed from a
Boat to sail, away ah
We are riding in a boat to sail
Bare foot, coconut and supermild
Jamaica take a look
At your own child
Forget not
Brian wilson songs are never left behind
Dont you worry baby, youre a friend of mine
For so long
From a boat to sail, boat to sail, away ah
All those letters mailed, from a
Boat to sail, away ah
We are riding in a boat to sail
We are riding in a boat to sail
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Waters Of The Pond Are So Silent
the waters of the pond
are so silent
i can hear the ripples
of the boat of death
coming at the side
of this river that bridges
us to the other island
there is feasting over there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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