One Hundred Degrees Sea
Foaming, bubbling, steaming
Burning, cooking, frightening
Liquid spilling seething sea.
Ohh what a terrifying sight
Tetras cooked right out of body
Cat fish on a hot tin roof
Plasic plants a melting slurry
Bloody aquariums got my money
Sold me heaters made in China
With thermostats that cook
the fish and it’s, just not funny!
poem by David Taylor
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Sky Skimmer
I made a wish,
Upon a fish,
Who swam through the sky.
It twinkled bright,
What a wonderful sight!
As the fish bathed up high.
It circled the moon,
Made the stars swoon,
And the fish lit up the night.
It’s tail was adorn,
With the colors of morn,
And it’s body shined like moonlight.
What was my wish,
Towards the fish?
It’s something I won’t deny.
All I wanted to see,
That would interest me,
Would be a fish swimming in sky.
poem by Micah Yates
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Duck! Don't Stick Your Neck Out
How many quacks does a quack quack quack
before he ducks for fish?
How many ducks does a quack quack duck
before his fish is fished?
How many geese's goose is cooked
because they ate up all the fish?
How many cooks cook geese
before their goose is cooked?
How many fowl fall foul
of fowl hunting cooks?
How many fowls' geese are cooked
before they flew from a foul hunting cook?
How many ducks' goose is cooked
because he didn't duck duck duck
when a fowl cook reached for his neck?
poem by David Taylor
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There Is A Rooster On The Roof
Someone said,
Chickens will come home to roost.
And there is a rooster on the roof,
With binoculars laughing.
'I want some scrambled eggs made,
With toast and marmalade.'
Someone said,
He was too young to fish.
But with them he went fishing,
And came back with all the fish.
'Clean it and fry it up with wild rice.
Cook some collard greens,
And that will be real nice.'
Someone said a failure will be seen.
But they are not the ones,
Eating fish and greens.
And there's a rooster on the roof,
Croaking for chickens to lay their eggs.
And the young fisherman,
Bathes in accolades!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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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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Samuel Silly Susage
Come with me down to shady Bottlebrush Way,
Off Cuddly Koala Avenue one bright sunny day.
There's someone I'd very much like you to meet,
My friend Samuel Silly Sausage with two left feet.
Samuel Silly Sausage is a funny little man.
He caught an elephant fish and cooked it in a seaweed pan.
His mother put the fish on a big china dish,
And he smothered it in jam, which was his wish.
Samuel Silly Sausage is a funny little man.
He built a castle made of lovely white sand.
He took the castle and placed it on a slice of bread.
Then walked around with the bread and castle on his head.
Samuel Silly Sausage is a funny little man,
He holds his hair in a rubber band.
He sits in his kitchen eating chocolate and tripe.
With pork chop apples, not quite ripe.
Samuel Silly Sausage is a funny little man.
He wears a pineapple ring on his hand.
Sometimes he wears a big red sock on his ear,
Mostly when he walks by the sea, along the pier.
Now Samuel Silly Sausage does funny things, it's true,
But he'll be a good and honest friend to you.
Who cares if he's a silly sausage from time to time?
He's still a very good friend of mine.
[ RKH 2003-03-05 ]
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Carried Time Tide Currents Global Death List
radiation is raw spewing into the sea
off island of Honshū from number two
nuclear reactor at crippled Fukushima
nuclear power plant seeding sea currents
lethal death ray deadly spray radiation
radiation ripped glow fish soon no fish
dead sea hot zone death creeping raw
radiation still spewing seeping fear fish
cooked on your plate nice steaming but
what was it eating where swimming past
radiation survivors swimming is building
up in sea food chain levels concentrating
building in plankton for choice whale meat
building in snapper tuna fish for your dish
carried time tide currents global death list
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I'll Eat The Fish
I use to like it well done not rare.
Prepared tenderly as if one cared.
I had to have my steak well cooked and baked.
I use to slice it into pieces split,
With fried potatoes...
And some wine to slowly sip.
But when I changed my diet I got into fish.
And I discovered baked fish was quite delicious.
That was it.
And today there is no beef for me,
I'll eat the fish!
I use to slice my beef into tiny pieces split.
But when I changed my diet I got into the fish.
That was it.
That was it.
And today there is no beef for me I will eat the fish!
That is it for me...
Today I'm on the fish!
I use to like it well done not rare.
Prepared tenderly as if one cared.
I had to have my steak well cooked and baked.
I use to slice it into pieces split,
With fried potatoes...
And some wine to slowly sip.
But today there is no beef for me I will eat the fish!
That is it for me...
Today I'm on the fish!
Today there is no beef for me I will eat the fish!
That is it for me...
Today I'm on the fish!
Even fish sticks,
Will be eaten very quick.
I will handled eating up those fish sticks very quick.
Especially if they're deep fried and battered!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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The Loneliness Of A Fisherman Of Ideas....
you fish at night
the moon is fading
it is when the night
is so dark
that you see the realities
of fish
squids having neon lights
around its body
a school of fish
appears like a diamond
city
you fish alone
in the deepest part of the ocean
where all the stars
have all gone into hiding
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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A Fish Eye
A fish eye just looks straight
It never shows emotions
It cannot refuse a bait
That may take it to oblivion.
A fish eye can only stare
Taking everything in one look
In innocence it will dare
To try what it's like on a hook.
A fish eye never cries
As the body grows limp in pain
Eventually it will die
And its scales go down the drain.
A fish eye you cannot eat
It seems to be looking at you
Each spoonful of fleshy meat
Seems to ask 'What did you do? '
(Smile - it's just a meal.)
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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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.
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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Of Fishes
A fish can never be a pet,
like dogs and cats and silly parrots,
because his home is always wet
and he despises peas and carrots.
I hope that you now understand
why no one walks with fishes ever,
all pets can spend their time on land
or swim in water, which is clever.
A fish will swallow in the end
a silver, extra sharpened hook.
No fish will ever be a friend
to anybody but a cook.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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The Patient Angler
The angler of fish has patience over the wine,
He drinks this liquid when the fish are to decline.
poem by Naveed Akram
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