Watching the hours pass by
Johnny sits waiting all day
For fish to arrive
He wonders whether they have died
For hours and hours he waits for the fish to take it’s bait
A ripple in the lake
Sends his fishing rod a warning
The worm has been spiced up for the fish
Its fragrance was aroused in the lake
The fish tasted the hot spices in the cool lake
“Steady old girl” says Johnny with a smile
“ Soon you will be mine”
Ripples overlap
The fish rod numbs with pain
The fish battles with the rod
Johnny pulls harder
He will not let go
Its weight surpasses that of a stone
The fish hooks himself loose
The ripple disappears
Johnny sits waiting at the end of the lake
Waiting for another to taste his spicy bait
poem by Lee John Siebritz

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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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Isaac Newton
Isaac Newton
For years he fished in the nearby lake,
but the fish would never take his bait.
So he baited his hook with crusty-bread,
but even that didn’t turn their head.
He changed the bait to a lump of cheese
and thought this would tempt and tease,
but alas no bites from dusk till dawn,
so he changed the bait to boiled corn.
With no success with boiled wheat
Newton would not accept defeat.
So he put a juicy worm upon the hook,
but even this got no second look.
He cast aside his tackle and thoughts of fish,
and became a mathematician and physicist.
One sunny morning beneath an apple tree
he sat reading a book of philosophy.
From the lake a fish leaped high above his head,
but an apple fell down and hit him instead.
He looked up for the fish and it fell onto his lap,
so he ate the apple and put the fish back.
poem by Orlando Belo

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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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Fishing For A Friend
when you go to fish
go fishing for the finest kind
which good anglers always do.
if you're looking for a fine fish
you must choose the purest lake
in which good anglers fish.
if you catch a fine fish
try not to let it get away
good anglers real them in.
you must bring your fish home
a fine fish will quench your hunger
after a long day fishing.
(January,2010, Omar Ibrahim)
(revised by MR.Ronald Peat)
poem by Omar Ibrahim

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Fish the Fish
fish makes every fish catch, the tail that
smell like fish as the angler bait its fishing
rod bit each heart beat, the triumphant
heart break its brake the nylon cord that
hold the hook that synchronize the timing
swings of each hand lifting as it goes
catching the net as it swing in the thread
that fishes the fish
strength hold on, tie so quick on, leave no
loose every cost is to repulse, time is
sweeten in the fish in the table all are
refresh, every fisherman switch the light in
the kitchen the kittle, the cool plate and the
fire is burning on
sweet smells like a baby, in every nose so
shiny, in every dinning table everybody is
happy ready to take like party, now all
hands should hold, and bring every magical
strength enfold, the fish is in the running
water waiting for us to carry in every heart,
please prepare the place, the net is
empty …… come and fish the fish
poem by Antonio Liao

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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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Does a Fish go Pee?
Does a fish go pee
when it's swimming in the sea?
Does it ever get the notion
when it's swimming in the ocean?
Does a fish take a leak
when it's swimming in the creek?
Do they do it in a muddle
when you see them in a puddle?
Does a fish ever miss when it's taking a @! &%
and they find urination
in the farmer's irrigation?
Do you think they're rather fond
of going potty in the pond...
and then, for goodness sake,
do they go while in the lake?
Do they tinkle at all
while in the waterfall?
Could you see a yellow gleam
as they do it in the stream?
Now take a little quiz:
Does a fish ever whiz?
Does a fish go pee
when it's swimming in the sea?
(Written in 1990)
poem by Cathe Ferguson

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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 went to a small lake, Bass Lake. It was beautiful. It was perfectly still when we got there in the morning. The fog was lifting off the water. It was just magical. And we did catch some fish, 13 fish.
quote by Jennifer Granholm

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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I'd like to see a nature film where an eagle swoops down and pulls a fish out of a lake, and then maybe he's flying along, low to the ground, and the fish pulls a worm out of the ground. Now that's a documentary
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fish Hook
My father
holding fish-hook
hooking bait
throwing of it to sea
in that bridge
its angle line is moving quickly
big fish eating bait
in its fish-hook
or only crab
making a fool of bait
in its fish-hook
or chance
which is making a fool
of him'self
poem by Prasetya Utama

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The fishing
Lust is the bait given by the God
To get the fish which are children.
We don’t catch fish with the bait
And instead eat the bait and forget fishing.
17.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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When I Go Fishing
when i go fishing
i am always reminded
of the fish in the pond
and the hook, line
and sinker
the bait is this worm
this shrimp
and objective is always
the fish
in there
one drinks so much silence
by the pond
i see the ripples
i see the shadows of fins
i drink so much silence
i fathom so much depth
i might have missed the elusive fish
losing my worm and my shrimp
what i bring home is this inner peace
and so i never mind the shadows of the fins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Grandpa's Lake
He was sitting by himself all alone,
Down in a little corner.
Looking out of place, in the funeral home,
And away from all the mourners.
His dad walked up, and I heard him say,
Daddy can I go home?
I don't know why grandpa went away,
But he might be home alone.
I want to be there, when he gets back,
We were going fishing today.
He'll need his hooks and rods, and that burlap sack,
Where he puts the fish away.
His dad looked up, a tear in his eye,
And said 'grandpa's fishing now.'
But it's a great big lake, up in the sky,
And you can't go there right now.
He's fishing with his dad today,
They'll be fishing for some time.
They have a lot to do and say,
Cause to that lake it's a long steep climb.
They haven't seen each other,
In oh, so many years.
And grandpa's glad to see his father,
And both their eyes have tears.
And grandpa's a little boy again,
Just a fishing with his dad.
And on his face there's no more pain,
I hope for him your'e glad.
The little boy just smiled and said,
I guess I'm happy about that.
Yes for grampa I'm very glad,
But for me, I guess I'm sad.
I wanted to go fishing, with my grampa today.
But if you can take me,
To the lake, maybe the bay,
I'll go, my time is free.
I guess I'll wait to fish with grampa,
Till I can make it to his lake.
Maybe he'll find some secret spots,
I sure hope so, for my sake.
1/4/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez

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Pulicate Lake (Chennai)
A rollicking trip on a boat
we had through the Pulicate Lake.
The nests cast all along the creek
warn the boat-men take care.
Men, women and children
dip in and come up the water,
with pulsating trout in their palms
and dropp into the slinging bags and creels.
The weak and the old in loin-cloths
are holding the fishing-rods,
and peering at the wood pulp with eager
to lug up the unwary dab.
Some dogs are emerging out in knee-deep water,
with struggling dace between the teeth.
We looked at the scene with pity
though we had fried fish to crunch at lunch.
Oh dear! They're stone statues not birds
waiting to pick up the misled fish!
The scent of coastal stuff from my friends
drove away the shrimps from our way.
Ah! Some baskets and towels too swirl around
to catch the lusty wealth of the sea.
Never these fish roaming in the lake
could go back to the estuary.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah

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Cat Fish
Cat fish play and leap witter-wotter. Over slow yonder. Purple mountains, apple skys, and jam taste like yip. Yap cat fish grew, so fast they licked ripe grass. Lumber slumbers in cat fish numbers. Lovers and muggers fall in deep cat fish reign. Cat fish took a long slumber on there yonder and were eaten by cat fish toddlers. The end!
poem by Shania K. Younce

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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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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.