Celebrating life
Fish somersault
Trapping a glint of the sun
haiku by Leonard Daranjo
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AE01 where is she?
i'm fish gliding in shallows
pushing weeds with my fins
some caught between; wiggle
good slime cover, i'm free
searching for deeper, wider
try newly discovered speed
why is that kid following me
he's different, no fishing pole
but a loser hat, hiding his face
i would stop; i will somersault
:) he's excited as i am, a fish
looking for muse, even just wish
poem by Manonton Dalan
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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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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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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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St Patricks Day
March 17th is one of the best days of the year.
In Chicago the river was as green as grass.
The Irish were celebrating like it was their job.
Everyone in my family was together having a blast.
The Irish were parading for it was their day.
The potatoes and corned beef for dinner were mouthwatering.
The shamrock was everywhere I looked.
Green was swarming the city.
Everyone celebrating their heritage or just trying to have a good time.
I didn’t care who’s celebrating it’s the day where everyone’s Irish.
I hardly slept because of the great day.
Too bad I had to get up for school the next day.
poem by Mike Kearney
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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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Breaking Up
Do not think it hurts me bad
It doesnt hurt me none
It does not mean anything
Im fondling this gun
And I dont hurt that bad
And I dont miss you
I dont eat alone
Wishing I was eating with two
Its like a sad movie
They always get high ratings
In fact I feel like celebrating
I feel like celebrating
And do not think I ever thought that
This would really work
It was just sort of a casual thing
Like trying on a shirt
I dont sit home slone and stare
At your picture wishing that
You were still there
I never get lonely
In fact Im probably masturbating
In fact I feel like celebrating
I feel like celebrating
Oh goody! oh joy!
Im finally free
I no longer have to sit through
Your mothers casserole recipes
Oh joy! glee!
Im finally free
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish of a Different Color
Big fish and small fish
Swimming here in this pond
Fast fish and slow fish
And now one is gone
Poor, foolish fishes
Just make a few stronger
And watch how these fishes
Devour each other
To be the small fish
I'm sure none would bother
But oh, don't you wish
You could make the pond smaller?
I've found my own niche
To live my life fuller
For I am a fish
Of a different color
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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Fish
I have lots of fish.
I want to have more of it.
Thinking of fish.
Makes me to make a wish.
Fish are of different types.
But I am only one type.
Fish can't talk.Can't walk.
I can talk.I can walk.
Their life is in water.
My life is on land
poem by Yash Pradhan
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Celebrating Silence
Celebrating Silence
Alone, alone on the wishful hilltop
Alone, alone on the longing beach
Alone, alone in the silvery garden
Listening to dreams…stealing hopes
Celebrating silence……
poem by Prasanna Kumari
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You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.
quote by E.B. White
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Penguin Paradise
Each penguin's such a precious thing,
Content to honk all day!
Each wide-webbed foot, each floppy wing,
To them, they're quite OK.
The water's cold! They walk on ice!
Do you hear them complain?
To them, this place is Paradise!
They say, 'No p.p.p.pain, no g.g.g.gain! '
You won't catch me in ice cold sea
And gobbling ice cold fish!
They'd soon lose all their novelty -
They're not the ideal dish...
The easy life, that's all I want -
Not fish day in, day out...
My choice in every restaurant!
Yes, that's what life's about!
And central heating suits me fine
And clothes and jewels, too...
Some champagne or some fancy wine
And then I'll muddle through.
But fish, fish, fish would drive me mad!
I'd soon curl up my lips!
With no potatoes to be had,
There'd be no fish and chips!
No telly and no radio,
No papers to peruse...
Live as a penguin? No, thank you!
This human life I'd choose...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Penguin Paradice
Each penguin's such a precious thing,
Content to honk all day!
Each wide-webbed foot, each floppy wing,
To them, they're quite OK.
The water's cold! They walk on ice!
Do you hear them complain?
To them, this place is Paradise!
They say, 'No p.p.p.pain, no g.g.g.gain! '
You won't catch me in ice cold sea
And gobbling ice cold fish!
They'd soon lose all their novelty -
They're not the ideal dish...
The easy life, that's all I want -
Not fish day in, day out...
My choice in every restaurant!
Yes, that's what life's about!
And central heating suits me fine
And clothes and jewels, too...
Some champagne or some fancy wine
And then I'll muddle through.
But fish, fish, fish would drive me mad!
I'd soon curl up my lips!
With no potatoes to be had,
There'd be no fish and chips!
No telly and no radio,
No papers to peruse...
Live as a penguin? No, thank you!
This human life I'd choose...
poem by Denis Martindale
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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.
In Constant Struggle
there is this hook, line and
sinker
someone is a fish and he
is caught
the urchins and clams
and octopuses watch helplessly
the fish is this philosophy of
being caught and wanting to be free
you are inside this ocean and
you are this fish
and then you wish to become a man
all your life you feel the fish in there
hook, line and sinker
the fish in you and the man within
in constant struggle
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm 39
What's the purpose of writing down something,
So as not to forget
When doing so is forgotten,
And remembering it one quits!
Or...
How about this one,
Looking for a sock that is in your hand?
And walking around with it,
Then throwing it in the trash can!
Not saying I've done this...
But I know these things 'someone' has done!
Afterall,
In my mind I still think I'm 39!
And I'm sure the day will come when I am reminded,
I will soon be 61!
'That' too 'someone' will put into the trashcan to find!
I'm celebrating anniversaries these days.
And I'll be celebrating my twenty-second time,
Of being 39!
THAT I do remember!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How To Fish
I was brought up in a way to fish for myself,
Since i was taught how to fish;
So train up your child how to fish!
For today i am a very rich man.
Today is the day of training and tomorrow you will catch fish,
For yesterday is gone by with the experiences of life!
But i can see eyes like the eyes of men around me.
There are thieves all over the world and,
There are adulterers all over too;
But i am on a daily mission to teach the truth,
So enter the narrow gate with your love.
I am like the legend of your life and of your past,
And i am like the man who never lost in town!
But my sweet love is not for sale,
Because i was taught how to catch fish!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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{{{ 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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