Icky
was the name of her fish,
a little tetra I bought her
when she was three.
we spoke to him,
we poked him with a finger,
and one day he died
you know, my darling
I began to explain how
life is about loving
and it's OK to be sad
when we lose
a dear friend
she finally spoke.
'You know, daddy, ' she said
'he was only a fish.'
(1986)
poem by Mike Finley
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Related quotes
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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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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Nobody Spoke (for Karen)
Nobody spoke to Lucy,
nobody spoke at all,
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
nobody spoke
for five long years
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy withdrew
without a clue
why nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years,
nobody spoke
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke!
Lucy went mad
she went crazy!
She screamed
she cried, she sobbed,
but nobody spoke,
for five long years
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Many years later
she saw them,
those people she wanted
to be her friends.
but ain't no joke
nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years.
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy left a note
in daddy's drawer,
put on her very best dress.
Did her hair in a very fine way
and walked into the hall as a guest.
She walked up to the folk
that never spoke,
said hello in an ordinary way,
then she pulled out a gun
and opened fire.
Yes she shot all those folk
on that day.
Now they were silent
now they were still,
cos ain't no joke
that nobody spoke
and now
they never will.
poem by Ruth Walters
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We Never Speak
I caught a silver fish
I caught a fish of gold
The first one spoke to me
And so I let it go.
The second told a joke
And I started to laugh
It slipped from my hand
Down into the sea.
Since then I have tried
To learn the language of fish
Of flowers, birds and bears
Sometimes I am they
And they are me
But now we never speak.
poem by Barbara Spring
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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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We Fish
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe.
Our fins are stout,
Our tails are out,
As through the seas we go.
Fish, Fish, we are fish with red gills;
Naught disturbs us, our blood is at zero:
We are buoyant because of our bags,
Being many, each fish is a hero.
We care not what is it, this life
That we follow, this phantom unknown;
To swim, it's exceedingly pleasant,--
So swim away, making a foam.
This strange looking thing by our side,
Not for safety, around it we flee:--
Its shadow's so shady, that's all,--
We only swim under its lee.
And as for the eels there above,
And as for the fowls of the air,
We care not for them nor their ways,
As we cheerily glide afar!
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe:
Our fins are stout,
Our tails are out,
As through the seas we go.
poem by Herman Melville
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Fish And Rice
Daniel phoned me today
with his usual two year old exuberance
which comes naturally when you are two
and comes naturally when you're fifty two
until you extinguish it with old damp habits,
and he said
'Fish! Fish! I like fish very much!
Daddy, fan fan, fan fan', (Chinese for rice)
and yes Daniel has already mastered
three languages, English, Mandarin and enthusiasm
the last of which he is most adept at.
Well I thought he was enjoying his fish supper
but not so, and I should have known,
this exuberance could not be the result of food
unless perhaps a rare taste
of smooth creamy chocolate.
No he was feeding fish,
fish with an appetite for rice?
No, but no one had told him the ingredients of fish food
or me for that matter
and of course he was right,
as far as the fish are concerned
this was indeed the rice of life.
And he was now suddenly very upset
standing in the corner, arms folded, despondent
what happened? I asked
I am told by my reporting wife
that there had been a message I had missed,
and should have known.
Feeding fish is more essential for happiness
than eating fish,
and on his return home, freely swimming happy fish
should be waiting for his love and bliss.
poem by David Taylor
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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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Mr. Fish
One day mr. Fish,
was making a pasta dish,
then suddenly he thought,
about what he was taught,
his teacher would always say,
'no fish can go out of the sea anyday'
he shook his head,
then clearly said,
'I will go out of the ocean,
to breathe I'll take a potion'
mr. Fish said farewell,
to his freinds and family aswell,
for safety he bought a whip,
then he set off on his trip,
he made it to the shore,
but he still wanted to do more,
he flopped onto the road,
his backpack was a very big load,
so he started to tire,
then he saw a very big fire,
'aagh' he screamed,
then he dreamed,
that he was back in fishville,
because the fire was burning over his hill,
he went back on the beach,
then there was a loud screech,
mr Fish didn't make it,
because seconds before he was hit,
he died of burn,
all the fish had to learn,
to not go out of the water,
because it would end by being slaughtered.
poem by Svenili Hughes
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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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God's Only Way
As we journey through each day, we need to point men to The Way,
To the only way of hope for all; to God’s redemption from man’s fall.
Christ came into a world condemned; to bring God’s Truth to all men.
In this world, all have sinned, and God’s redemption is found in Him.
Christ spoke to men with authority, as He spoke to them of Eternity.
Many men were amazed at Christ, as Jesus spoke about New Life.
Life that goes beyond this earth, a life men receive upon New Birth.
In Christ we become Born Again, to enter into a life that has no end.
Jesus Christ is the Creator of all, a perfect creation before man’s fall.
Jesus came to this earth my friend, to become the Savior of all men.
Jesus Christ is God’s Only Son, who died on the cross for everyone.
And the blood He shed that day, confirmed that He is The Only Way.
For Christ is God’s only Salvation, not for one, but for every nation.
Only Jesus Christ died at Calvary, for all the sin of both you and me.
And the message we must herald, He died for the sin of all the world.
God had paid the ultimate price, by sending His Son as our sacrifice.
Friend, only Jesus Christ rose again, this to offer New Life to all men.
And only through Jesus Christ, can all men experience Eternal Life.
For only Christ died and rose again, to become the Savior of all men.
Soon Christ the Eternal Creator, is coming back as Lord and Savior.
031010 Food Power
i reach the bottom of fish tank
to touch the bottom dweller
stuck to a rock like suction cup
she let me caress her as if she
know me, she's grown a bit
since i bought her at pet shop
this black big head fish i love
she doesn't move that much
i watch her gills close and open
she is always watching me
sometimes i saw her swim
just to get away from other fish
i used to tap the fish tank cover
before feeding them, amazing
every time i tap, they surface
how's that for teaching a fish
food is really powerful thing
just me i can't stop eating
poem by Manonton Dalan
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I Am A Fish!
I dream of sea
deep beautiful blue sea
I am a fish, a colorful fish
that's what I wish
I dream of water
dancing with the waves
to be a colorful fish
that's my wish!
I dream of wind
touching softly the sea
taking me, the colorful fish
deep deep under the sea!
I dream of love
you being a fish like me
that is all what I wish, dear sea
to be a fish, happy and free!
poem by Arta Krasniqi
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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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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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On The High Price Of Fish
Cocoa-nut naught,
Fish too dear,
None must be bought,
For us that are here:
No lobster on earth,
That ever I saw,
To me would be worth
Sixpence a claw.
So dear madam, wait
Till fish can be got
At a reas'nable rate
Whether lobster or not;
Till the French and the Dutch
Have quitted the seas,
And then send as much
And as oft as you please.
poem by William Cowper
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A.K.A. Mario
before he finally left
he came to the house finding me alone and busy with words
the usual work on words
that makes me
bread,
he did not say much
as usual he is the silent mario of the class
many thought
he is at peace, i told me he is not actually and so i tell his wife
mario is confused, like some entangled seaweeds
where no fish can penetrate and stay or bring something
mario died two days ago
thinking that i am the happiest man alive
i think so, i must think so, otherwise
mario shall know, otherwise, he would have live a little longer
mario feels this sense of abandonment
like a port without boats and seagulls like a fish without a fish
he died
and that is enough to tell us what he believes in
he felt something so disturbing
he did not mind
before he finally left
he thought that i am the happiest man alive
and now, i must promise myself that.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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.
A fish
He said 'there are plenty of fish in the sea.
All you have to do is go swimming to see.'
True, it would be easy to accomplish this.
But catching a fish... is not what I wish.
What fun would that be, to fish.
I need something better then that...A fish.
'Ha! , You fool that does not exist.'
My friend sometimes you should open your eyes.
Because catching everything that swims by, is not always the prize.
What if I told you to dig deep instead.
'Then I would say there is something wrong with your head.'
Perhaps you would be right, I'm sure it would be a tougher fight.
Digging hole after hole for something that is not in sight.
But what if I stumbled across a clam at the bottom of this sea.
So shiny...So bright it made all the other fish a terrible site.
And my friend whats even better then that.
Inside this clam is something to ewww and awww at.
A pearl inside of it so perfect you would be amazed.
That you would be able to do nothing but sit and gaze.
Would that be worth something to keep.
'I'm sure it would, but you have to dig so deep'
Well that's better then catching just a pretty fish, at least that's what I wish.
poem by Christopher Litten
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