Know I'm a fish by no choice
I thought we were the same
We lived under one river
We shared happy moments and sad ones
We chatted till the sunset
We laughed together
But now you are living me alone
You must know I'm a fish by no choice
You were a tiny toad
You learnt jumping infront of me
I encouraged you but now you are forgetting
Please come and share to me
The adventures of the land
For I depend to you for more knowledge
Please remember me for I'm a fish by no choice
poem by Andiswa Mvanyashe
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Related quotes
Number Eight Hook
This little fish hook, is a number eight,
Tiny as it is I will attest.
It's put many fish on my dinner plate,
For catching perch it is the best.
I wouldn't exchange it for all the rest.
With a piece of night crawler, wiggling around,
This tiny hook is my weapon of choice.
The fish are ecstatic, at what they have found,
And all of a sudden, they just loose their poise.
The silent assassin strikes without noise.
Little red number eight, I depend upon,
To get me fish, with constant ease.
My secret weapon when all else goes wrong,
For a wonderful supper, or catch and release.
Little red number eight, knows just how to please.
9/5/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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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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An Old Fisher In The Green
A man, this man, alone in the green,
a little, tiny sand, a speck in the sea.
He used to be a torrent, a veritable blizzard,
ready to weather the storms, this strong fisher.
Then these little fish, to him flocked,
and his heart gave in, collapsed in him, and gave him quite a start.
He took the fish and laid it out, gave it his breath,
and as it looked, its eyes glowed hot, and took from him the rest.
Then it became a fisherman, but one that knew its gift,
it indeed was a fisherman who helped its once-known kin,
what a wondrous man this fish did make, reveling in this skin,
it indeed was a better fisherman who helped its once-known kin.
And so this old fisherman, living on his last breath,
lived only to help the fish he helped, until his last, his death.
His last was given to a fish he deemed demure, a wriggling sickly thing,
he gave it his last, he did, he did, though it remained a fish.
He gave his all, he did, he did, till this fish became enlarged,
yet still not a man did it make, but instead became in charge,
a shark it made, it did, it did, and it hounded out,
till once again, it did, it hid, became the rounder out.
The fishermen were thrown on their guards, this shark was so enlarged,
till all was dust upon the sea, and the old man was set free.
The vision just though may it be,
became but dust upon the sea
till all was dust to dust upon the sea,
and the old man, weak, was at last set free.
poem by Kevin Maroney
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Remembering A Friend Through The Fish
we keep when we were children
our treasures in a form of a fish
inside our own little secret ponds
we never intend to share them at first
we fear the adults who steal
we dislike them minding us
telling us that fish is not interesting at all
that the pond is just a very small world
where our minds are convoluted
like intestines of a fish
do you remember the flood
of adult water spreading rising higher than our knees?
it was very sad
all the fish we kept were taken away by the indifference
of the majority
we give up
we went to other places
and then we became too lonely
they want us to hate the fish
to be like them
and so here we are still keeping the fish
in anger.
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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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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Am I Not Happy? ! ? ....
Why am I not happy?
Because.. The sun's not up?
But I have a choice:
- enjoy the clouds!
Why am I not happy?
Because.. I feel so lonely?
But I have a choice:
To call a friend and let the time go slowly..
Why am I not happy?
Because..I have no money?
But I have a choice:
-forget that I had any..
Why am I not happy?
because..I am in pain?
but I have a choice:
to count, wait-patience I'll gain..
poem by Elena Sandu
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050510I calmness could be dangerous
i'm awestruck with calmness
when shore start to recede
only tiny ripples on surface
i'm waiting for jumping fish
nobody did such acrobats
they went with flow just that
i remember my dads story
somewhere in hawaiian bay
they pick clams, gather opehi
one time fish were stranded
old folks said don't go picking
instead they run to the mountain
***
one sign of tsunami
opehi a shell that stick their flesh to rocks
(good popos bra)
poem by Manonton Dalan
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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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Try 4 (A Happy)
In my mind happy is a choice
You either choose to be happy or
you choose to get by
A life of horror's ritual or
a simple joy's choice
All held by the type of smile of nature's will
Lonely has a hold
Life never travels right
Yet what always stands, is choice
Never too late, the choice to try
Also is the choice to be happy
poem by Kelvin Owusu
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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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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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Fish Again on Friday
Fish again on Friday how predictable is that
It’s getting to the stage I’d rather eat my hat
Gotta grin and bear it, have no other choice
I’ve tried to have my say, but I’m afraid I’ve lost my voice
Yeah you can’t have your pudding if you don’t eat your meat
So the teacher says and I shuffle on my feet
Gotta grin and bear it, it’s just the way it goes
But I can feel resistance and it’s good to feel it grow
I don’t know all the saints, not personally anyway
Jesus now Mohamed and my hair is turning grey
Now there’ll come a fatwa because of what I say
So many rules I just wanna walk away
Well its fish again on Friday but I’ll suppress my grin
I’ve sort of learned to face it and take it on the chin
But fish again on Friday, I’ve just about had my fill
Fish again on Friday, I’ve had it to the gills
Fish again on Friday. Who invented that?
Fish again on Friday I’m gonna eat my hat
poem by Kris Whelan
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All The Same
Remember when I carried that heavy load,
Remember when I fought that long battle,
Remember when the rocks fell on me,
Remember the dying moments my love,
Remember the tragedy that faced me,
Remember you never moved my love,
In the demise of your man you stood still,
Watching me sink and not giving a hand,
Remember the care and concern my love,
Remember when you were sick on bed,
When I ran to you to see you recover,
Remember when I was sick on bed my love,
When you enjoyed and slept to the fullest,
Remember when I missed you my love,
When I came all along to be with you,
Remember when you missed me my love,
When you stayed and never bothered to step,
Remember the days when nights were cold,
When I made a choice to be with you,
Remember when the day was so perfect,
When you made the choice to stay in bed,
Remember the trees that were long standing,
When you thought of cutting them for no reason
Remember the war that approached us,
When we chose to be cowards than warriors,
Remember the water that flowed,
When our hearts did flood within,
Remember the moments I shouted,
When you pretended you were not hearing,
Remember the effort I put my love,
When you never did the same,
All the same my love, I love you
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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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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Snail Crossing.... (Part Six)
the life well lived is composed
of small things, small happenings,
and small touches...
for it is in these most simple and
real of moments that we evolve...
a word spoken in kindness....
a meal shared, an hour or two
of listening...
a choice made from selfless compassion...
these are the moments of eternity,
the trace of our living that remains...
and the steps to the temple,
of understanding, and freedom.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Would Ask My Inner Voice
'Do I have a choice? '
I would ask my inner voice.
~Does a bird fly with one wing?
Is a ventriloquist near by,
When you hear that bird sing?
Have you seen a rabbit hop on one foot?
Does a fish swimming freely beg to be hooked? ~
'Do I have a choice? '
I would ask my inner voice.
~Your guess is as good as mine.
If you believe you have a choice,
Why are you wasting my time? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth Works
'When the truth works its way
through the net of illusion
and plunges back into the sea, '
says the fish to the fisher,
'the freedom it experiences
then is far greater than
that it experienced
before it was caught.'
'So you are the truth? '
says the fisher to the fish,
checking his net for a tear
the fish might work through.
'I am the truth, and you are, too, '
says the fish, jumping up
out of the net, 'and so are
the net and the sea.' Splash!
poem by Dick Holmes
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Help...
He is walking by a river
Feeling worse and worse by the minute
One second he is looking at the river
The next he is in it
The icy cold water pulling him down
His screams starting to make no sound.
He keeps fighting, kicking, howling
It was no use
The river was going to send him down
It would laugh in his ear
Knowing his struggle was useless
Though the boy was clueless.
It was decided that
That was all he could take
Letting his mind go numb
For his nerovs's sake
He is submerged in the water
Hearing a final laugh of victory
Just a bunch of mockery
From the stuipd river
nothing could be less civil
Down underwater
he could see many fish
And they looked kind of bothered
'Do not let the river win! '
a fish cried to him
'But I cannot swim no more
and you are just one fish' he sighed
The fish smiled 'Yes, but help can grow'
All the fish gathered around
And now the river no longer pulling him down
He gasped for air
Now he could see
That the poeple who really care
are the ones who can really help me.
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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