042210f Millions Are Still There
breeding fish thought night is coming
starving themselves from not hunting
smell is awfully yucky they throw up
swim away is better chance for gasp
so widespread now beyond eye reach
satellites has assign a visual signature
collect and burn a brain child; brilliant
they did a few; it's on prime time show
called navy for assistant, fishermen too
their boats ready to lay down scoopers
previous estimate is too low; much flow
ther are tens of millions beneath the sea
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Related quotes
It's a Fish's Life
Swim fish, swim! swim for your life!
The fisherman's coming you're tea for his wife!
Swim fish, swim! your fastest yet,
You must swim quickly, to avoid his big net!
Swim fish, swim! right out to sea!
For I am a shark waiting, and you're dinner for ME!
poem by George Howard
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Senriyu
Boats with lots of fish,
Fishermen' wives are in agony in the shore,
Pirates shot the fishermen!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The fishermen of Gallilee
The fishermen of Gallilee, disciples of Jesus, called to be,
Learning how to live by Faith, they obeyed when He said 'follow Me.'
They went out to fish with their nets one very stormy night,
And as a storm blew up, they saw Him walk and got a fright;
They thought it was a ghost, But they soon found out,
It was Jesus walking there, and soon their boat came about.
Another time when they were on the sea, as Jesus did stand and talk,
He then said we'll go the other side by boat, we won't walk;
And as they started out with their boats into the deep,
Jesus went to the back of the boat, and went to sleep.
Now as they travelled, the weather changed, and a storm did blow,
And the Fishermen came so afraid, Fear was all they did know;
They went to Jesus and woke Him, then said don't you really care,
That we're in danger, but why couldn't they realize, Jesus was there;
Jesus then stood up, rebuked the storm, and the storm quietened down,
Jesus said Peace, and peace came, No longer their faces did frown.
The fishermen learnt many things, and so do learn them, it's so,
That trusting in Jesus, for everyone, is the only way to go;
But with trust and faith, helps us to cope in life,
When sin causes us to go wrong, brings about strife;
Just keep on believing, and try not to doubt,
You too like the fishermen, you'll no longer pout.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Fishees Underwater
Fish have many pretty colors, they live beneath the waves
Some fish seem to swim in schools while others live in caves
Some are short and some are small and some are stringy thin
Some of them are wide and tall and some just dig right in.
There's not much light beneath the waves of all our great big seas,
But all the fish don't seem to mind, they somehow still can see
Plants live down there, under water and make things seem so nice,
That all the fishes dance around and always check things twice.
Some fish swim deep down there, others they just won't
Some of them seem unafraid, but most of them just don't
Some fish have large shiny teeth, some have none at all
Some of them swim hastily, while others only crawl.
Of all the fish and animals my favorite is a star fish
If I find one on the beach, I stop and make a wish
I pick them up and throw them back, far out into the ocean
And hope they learn to not return, or repeat that silly notion.
poem by Daniel Lloyd Kennedy
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Down In The Deep
Way down, down in the deep
how many a sailor went to sleep?
Some in ships that were wrecked in a storm,
some in vessels that now do form
abodes for fish to swim all around.
Down in the deep at the bottom of its ground.
Way down, down in the deep
how many travelers went to sleep?
Some in planes that crashed in the sea,
strapped in their seats, not floating free.
The sea became their final resting place
down in the deep without a trace.
Way down, down in the deep
How many fishermen went to sleep?
Some in boats loaded with their catch,
Time had come when the sea became their match.
But, fishermen are in love with the big blue deep.
And so it is down in the deep that they sleep.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Fish with no tail
as i gaze out of nature... i have seen a fish without a tail
impossible but its true, first things came up to my mind
is, ask whether its worth to give time to remember all
the scene or perhaps, just a memories of a simple
goodbye
as the fish swim, deep beneath the crystal blue water, i
couldn't remember the minutes, the hours past, nay i felt
that i haven't taken my meal, it seems all are just a blink
of a second in my eyes
it keeps on bubbling, even in a thousands seconds it
stay in the water, until i notice that the fish fail to surface
beneath the running water, for the absence of the tail
the body is nothing
all is just a mirror of a fish that, every movement of the
body, the twist of the tail has to follow, its a paradox to
believe that we see the tail of other fish, nay never we
saw that we don't have tail of our own
like the fish it swim, with no direction, only an inspiration
that we can do, yet as it goes there we go, tail that swim
in the water stream with no affection of what to do
now i see, how to swim, in water, lou! where i may go...in
the world of stream when everybody is frame......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Deep Waters
I am every where-
all immersion-
surrounding you;
yet you cannot see me;
my name's unknown
my love unknighted;
not shown.
I give you my All
you swim in it
suffused with that joy
which
is unknown
to even itself.
You come and you go
and I labor in this love
giving birth
to you in my soupy midst;
seeing your dreams small
and large grow tall and fit.
I see them swim away too soon
swim away
because
I am water
and you are fish.
I surround you in my dreams at night;
you swim in your world
unaware of me.
But your mouth opens and opens again
drinking of me
which gives you life;
keeps you alive
in the dream world we share.
Above the water line
is the other world
of boats steamers and reality
But here below
under my cover,
it is only
you and I
but only I in the end
since fish you know
never
discover
water-
until
its gone.
We are all fish then
unaware of the dreamy water world
which makes fish possible.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Hunting Humans (Lyrics)
Upon this threshold of disaster
The birth of the eleventh plague
The fires burn at night, I begin to doubt the smell of burning flesh
Will ever fade away
The touch of death is all around us
A thousand corpses block our way
A man-made germ makes almost everyone commit suicide
Just to rise and eat their dead
Night of the living Dead...
We're hunting humans
We're hunting humans
We're hunting humans
It's killing time every evening
I can't control this eerie feeling
An evil screaming in my head
I don't think I'll last the night
There is no cure
For this genocide
Or resurrection of the dead
Night of the living Dead...
We're hunting humans...
poem by Satan's Sibling
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The Tale Of Meenkumar
Long long ago
Man used to live on the bank of the ocean
There were many lakes and rivers surrounding the ocean
The banks of the rivers and lakes were full of trees
Many forests were there
Those were deep forests
In the forests there were many wild animals
Man lived on the bank of the ocean
Because of the danger of the wild animals
Except farmers, fishermen, craftspeople abode there
Fishermen knew fishes were the saviors of their life
So they didn't catch fish every time
They didn't catch fish unless it was necessary
They didn't kill the fry and not even the pregnant fish
There was the Meen kingdom in the oceans
What is Meen?
It is a kind of fish
They used to rule the kingdom of the oceans
One day, one Meen prince came out of the palace because of forgetfulness of mind
He was roaming and came at a place full of mosses and rocks
There were many big and small fishes
One big Salmon fish was delighted to see the beauty of the Meen prince
He felt greed to eat him
Meen prince escaped when he saw the salmon swimming towards him
Meen prince hid himself under the rocks
Salmon knew that Meen cannot stay for a long time there
When he would come, he would catch him and eat
It would be a wonderful dinner for him
Meen prince passed the night by hiding under the rocky place
Early in the morning, fishermen came to catch fish
Meen prince saw a child fisherman
He requested him to save his life
Finally the fishermen encircled the Salmon fish and caught it
Meen thanked the child fisherman and luckily returned to the palace
This was the tale of Meenkumar....
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
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Deities Of The Sea
A deity is shaken by his intelligence,
Forebrain is perfect, mind is never absent.
A fisherman has seen this deity of his,
For he does catch fish and everything.
My life is like the fishermen all over,
Like the beam of light cascading on surfaces.
My God is brilliant at works of art and science -
He has created these legendary faculties,
The aspects of a knowing-sphere,
The size of the Earth, and all the fish in the sea.
This ocean will erupt with food so stinging,
We will fatten ourselves to reach the deity.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Prime Time Of Our Lives
It's the prime time of our lives
And I've never seen us more alive
Now that the night has finally arrived
I'm looking for some fun and to survive
Join hands with me
We'll slow down the time
We'll dance the last song
The prime time of our lives is here in this time for us now
When you reach a certain point in your life
You better push it to the extremes
And that's what we're doing
We're celebrating dreams
We're living dreams
We're creating new dreams
In the prime time of our lives
The time is now
In our choices
In what we thought
In what we bought
In what we've got
Thank god for now
It's the prime time of our lives
poem by Justin Gildow
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Fishing
They dropped the sails of their boats
near the shore of the Sea of Galilee
at early morning-light
and were heavy-eyed and tired
having worked in vain
all night long
and washed the nets
while the sun rose hot
in the blue cloudless sky.
From the distance a crowd
came nearer following
a holy man and listening to him
and he climbed into one of the boats,
asked Simon to sail
a little bit off shore
and sat teaching the people
from the boat.
The fishermen stopped working
and started listening
to the beautiful things that he said
and yet there he was still
just a man to them
and maybe a great prophet.
He instructed Simon
to sail into deep water
and to set the nets
for a catch.
Shaking his head
Simon explained that they
had worked all night long
without catching anything
but something about this holy man
made them obey.
When they brought the nets up
there were too many fish
for the nets to hold
and they beckoned their partners
in the other boat to help
and filled both boats
past their capacity
and suddenly Simon knew
that the Son of God
was sailing with him
and fell on his knees crying out:
'Go away from me, Lord;
I am a sinful man! '
And the fishermen were astounded
at the large catch that they had taken
and Jesus said that henceforth
they would be catching men
and they shored their boats,
leaving everything
to follow Him.
[Reference: Luke 5: 1-11.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Lake
The lake so grand, boats afloat
all sizes and shapes
pontoons, yachts, sails and fishing boat
people from all over and all ages
every wave so beautiful as the they stroll ashore
from white caps to rolling wave. the flow so endless
the boats flowing so gentling across the water
the fish swimming so free under the water
teasing the fishermen, steal the bait
the lake is the place to be on this fine day
God creation for all to enjoy
take the moment and view the lake
It so grand and so free
poem by Michael Peterson
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Ready To Love
When I look at you all I can see
Is the shadow of your life
You see this stage is a mirror
You can see me
But I can't see past its light
Lovers have tried to reach down inside
I only said that they were wrong
But when all I've got left is me and my pride
I realize you can't buy love with a song
So somebody take me out of the night
Show me what life is made of
Won't somebody reach inside of my heart
I think that I'm ready to love
I think that I'm ready to love
I feel like I'm ready to love
Well a lesson that's learned too late is a crime
I can't stand the pain of what could have been
Oh it's such a shame there's no one to blame
But no one knows what I have seen
What do you see when you look at me
Do I really seem so far away
But the song will go on
And you will applaud
And look at me I'll just keep singing
Somebody take me out of the night
Show me what life is made of
Won't somebody reach inside of my heart
I think that I'm ready to love
I think that I'm ready to love
I feel like I'm ready to love
Oh show me what life's made of
Somebody please reach inside of my heart
I think that I'm ready to love
I think that I'm ready to love
I feel like I'm ready
song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Paumanok Picture
TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
Ten fishermen waiting--they discover a thick school of mossbonkers--
they drop the join'd seine-ends in the water,
The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the
beach, enclosing the mossbonkers,
The net is drawn in by a windlass by those who stop ashore,
Some of the fishermen lounge in their boats, others stand ankle-deep
in the water, pois'd on strong legs,
The boats partly drawn up, the water slapping against them,
Strew'd on the sand in heaps and windrows, well out from the water,
the green-back'd spotted mossbonkers.
poem by Walt Whitman
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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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Dutch lullaby
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,--
Sailed on a river of misty light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sung a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew;
The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in the beautiful sea.
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,
But never afeard are we!"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
For the fish in the twinkling foam,
Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folk thought 't was a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock on the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three,--
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
poem by Eugene Field
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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.
Prime Time
Cavalier roses, but the thorns got in my soul
Chocolate box intention, but a bitter taste left me cold
Take a little something, a present clouds the past
Traded our emotions, it couldnt last, wouldnt last at all
And though you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Fine time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
Bitter suite decision, sofa so good the day we met
Eye for eye collision, pillow talking, only pillow talking
Matinee romancing, the bait is set, the net is cast
Cheated our emotions, it couldnt last
Wouldnt last at all
Although you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
And words are words thats all
Im going to stand or fall
Prime time for hook and line
Dont you swim away...
Prime time for the hook and line
Prime time for the hook and line
For the hook, the hook and line
Although you didnt say, yeah
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down
Line by line adventure
A prime time for the hook and line
Castaway in pleasure
A prime time
Curtain razor tension
A prime time for the hook and line
Wasted our emotions
A prime time
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everything Is Different In Africa
Everything is different in Africa.
Strange stars by night look down,
And threepence is called a tickey
And a florin’s like half-a-crown.
Everything is different in Africa;
Hardly a thing’s the same,
And any that are are mostly
Called by a different name.
“Everything is different in Africa,”
I thought - till my gaze did roam
By chance to some words familiar
That seemed like a voice from Home.
And still as the train rolled onward
They sang through my brain all night,
While the dust of the Kalahari
Sat on me, fine and white.
For they spoke of a strap I clung to
In a train I used to know,
And Waterloo in the rush-hour
In a time that’s long ago.
“Do not throw out of the window” -
Thus went the haunting tune,
Like a magical incantation,
Like a druid’s mystic rune -
“Bottles or other articles” -
Never such deed be mine! -
“Likely to injure anyone
Working on the line!”
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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