feeding pelicans
feathered bombs with open mauls
enter shoals of fish
haiku by Ray Schreiber

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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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Viva Mas
Drop Bars not Bombs
Make Chai not War
Baseball not Bombs
Books not Bombs
Make Love not War
Drop Tuition Not Bombs
Blondes not Bombs
Beats not Bombs
Drop Class not Bombs
Make Art not War
Flowers not Bombs
Food not Bombs
Make Levees not War
Drop Seeds not Bombs
Bread not Bombs
Beauty not Bombs
Drop Television not Bombs
Make Solidarity not War
Build Trust not Bombs
Bring back Food
Boycott Banks
Bring Life not War
Make Tracks not War
and this is the way the long road Ends Not with a bang but a whimper
poem by Jerome Moore

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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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Lucky Catch
Once saw a small boy
Hand line a very large fish
Very lucky boy!
With expensive gear
Fisherman cast very far
Not a single fish
'Boy could barely cast'
Remarked the old fisherman
'Just beginners luck'
True about boy's skills.
Could only cast to the fish
Feeding at his feet
Not just gear or skill
To be lucky in fishing:
Fish where the fish are!
poem by Zen Bojczuk

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AE01 growing fish
fish lips barely off water
filtering food crumbs
floating like carpet
fish pond feeding time,
amazing appears as unit
focus to food, giant vacuum
swirling mass of fins, bubbling
some jump with open mouth
catching whatever it pass by
total chaos, survival of fittest
soon nets come for collection
feed them now, to feed you later
poem by Manonton Dalan

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A Morning Poetry Ritual
what comes in
let it enter
i always will
each precious hour in the morning
these are guests
that feed us and not us
feeding them
these are the carriers of bounty
the harbingers of good news
the doors are open
and so are the arms
the hands are ready
the monitor is awake
and then the fingers
start to press the words.
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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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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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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4. Big fish
Where shimmering shoals of sardine play
By shipwreck on the seabed lay
Along comes shark some swim away
The rest get eaten if they stay
Within a porthole hanging out
An octopus I hear you shout
He’s hiding now what’s that about
Surprise attack without a doubt
A conger eel behind a rock
Fits like a glove or was it sock
Smaller fish come by to mock
But when he strikes they get a shock
Well large or small just be aware
The predators don’t mean to scare
They mean to eat you not play fair
So if you’re not a big fish do take care
poem by David Threadgold (2008)

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A bait and I.
In the ocean of passion,
Reason has little liaison,
Fish abound, blink and twinkle,
Splash at the face to bloom and spring,
Constant chanting with airy bubbles,
Enter the nostrils to be pliable,
Softened hearts speak lovely words,
Wised brains teach unlearned thoughts,
Crucial becomes useless steam,
Life becomes a dream to dream,
I am going to fish in the ocean of passion,
Where I can find multitude dream,
To get the colored, I have to go deep,
While Big villains are on the top,
Mushroom fish are for the plates,
Garbage fish are not for sale,
Taken a fish for the supper the last,
My cute little fish is for the heart.
I am going earnestly for the fishing,
In the oceans of blue and nothing.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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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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Overbird
O = Once upon the midnight enter hurry
V = Verily the hurry worry enter scurry
E = Eerily or early bird of enter Poe
R = Raven is only one huge enter Crow
B = Better to see them from the
distance of the hour glasses with
thick lenses enter Tommy use your eye
I = Intense discussion rules get broken
enter time to turn the worm over
enter into the night
R = Roman Judges rule nothing enter Rome
not one stone standing of the Jewish enter
temple now
D = Describe the Vulture in the Temple its
got wings of darkness its got red eye
with long black enter nose this time
this poem enter perfect prose
poem by Charles Hice

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Fill Me With Your Love
But there are so many
Who dont know the reason
Their lives are wasting away
Just souls without purpose
They wonder in darkness
Without a thought for the day
Well, Im no savior
Im just a window
Through which your sweet love light can shine
So clean out the corners of my darkened pane
And fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
I open my heart and soul for you to enter me
And fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
I open my heart and soul for you to enter me
And fill me with your love again
I open my heart and soul for you to enter me
And fill me with your love again
song performed by by Amy Grant

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A Door To World Peace
The door to world peace is open.
All nations are invited to come in.
A welcome mat is available for every one,
And rogue nations may enter again.
The door to world peace is open
And no nation is turned away,
But if few decide not to enter the fold,
Peace will be shortlived in every way.
Peace keepers fill our hearts with hope,
And attempt to dry our heavy tears,
And open hearts for sound relationships
That will last for many delightful years.
A nation that is closed to others
Grows harder than concrete or stone,
And the people who reside there
Are destined to be isolated and alone.
If you slam the door on some nations,
Peace initiatives will continue to cease,
But if all nations are willing to compromise,
What a difference it can make to seek peace?
Skeptical nations will always wonder
How world peace might have been
When the door was open for them to enter,
But they failed to come in.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi

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Bombay
'Bomb-Bay'!
Of the bomb attacks on the Hotels in Bombay like 'Bomb-Bay';
But, why should some people kill others?
Our body needs fuel than bombs,
This life needs peace than bombs,
So try to be a role model to others than killing them.
Don't force them to eat what they don't want to,
And don't throw bombs around to kill the people around you;
For, why should i congratulate you of your bomb attacks? ! !
Life is very peacefully so,
Live and let us live too!
And, why throw the bombs against others to kill them?
Bombs in Bombay,
Why should the sweet fragrance of your love be destroyed always?
Why should the negative people around us always carry along bombs?
For words cannot express my sorrow and,
I will never forget this day.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Birds of the same feather
Birds of the same feather flock together.
I am an outsider and the door is always open for me to enter.
If I will get a right path I will enter
nd you find me never here.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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(Forgiveness Poem) An Open Battle Field
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Controlling the masses
Just bow down.
And take it in the rear.
Watch as you lose another one you hold so dear.
Falling off the radar.
Who are you?
What are you doing here?
Is this where the poor live?
How long do you think you can survive?
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The world is committing suicide.
Everyone just swallow your pride.
If you expect the help from others.
You got to give all you have give.
Lord in my heart let me forgive.
No matter my hated enemy.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
It is a forced occurrence.
Not as we want but as we must.
The rules of greed.
In heaven I concede.
Their can't be this hierarchy.
Ruled under one thumb.
The gloom of this darkness.
Follow the leader.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The teachers, or the preachers?
How do we view one another.
Painting another pretty rainbow.
The colors of the perfected flaws.
Lets put everything on pause.
Just look at us.
Divided by nothing.
Yet communication is non existent.
With every second the meaning is yet to met.
Dire consequences.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Grabbing the gun and knife.
Preparing to defends ones life.
All because we can't share.
Like little children we fight our wars.
With equality being important above all else.
Death to this diluted common practice.
Lets just be as we are.
Deny the skies all you want.
Their still there.
Hovering in the air.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
I'm already gone.
In a higher place.
In a world disapproving.
To my conclusion.
But I don't even care.
I don't believe in fair.
I expect to receive the worst.
Cause in this life we have been cursed.
But it is the only way we can learn.
With the heart it has to be earned.
With all that is good I'm concerned.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
We are men that have the ability to find choice.
With this we should rejoice.
But instead we try to remove it and the responsibility of it.
Should I be angry?
Should I be mad?
Should I try to destroy other men?
With hope I pray that I can be forgiven.
Evil is the intent.
The world is trying to circumvent.
Shortcuts to the end.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

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A Bird Sanctuary (Vedanthangal-TamilNadu, India)
The calls of birds
Of hues varied
lull all to sleep.
Vedanthangal(Shelter of the Hunters) ,
the rain fed tank,
is the haven for
Cormorants,
the Night Herons,
the Darters, Ducks
Grey Pelicans
and the Moor Hens….
Birds from continents diverse
nest on the Kadamba Trees,
feed, breed and fly around,
dip in water, catch fish
and hop to the trees in glee.
O, that sadist hurls a fish above
and takes it back within its bills!
The world of birds has a lot to teach.
The black, white and grey birds perch side by side.
Birds, plants and animals
give man his essential needs.
But he cuts their throats to fill his bellies.
---
poem by Rajendran Muthiah

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