En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Cold Fish

(K.J.Garside C.Gray)
Strip me down and bare my soul,
Cut my heart out,
Eat me whole,
Taunt and bait me, invalidate me.
Cold fish,
In my little dish...
Cast your hook and reel me in,
Faster more fast,
Break me in,
Castigate me, go on and make me.
Cold fish,
Splish splish splish.

song performed by by Queen Adreena
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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Lie In Our Graves

When I step into the light my arms open wide
When I step into the light my eyes searching wild
Would you not like to be
Sitting on top of the world with your legs hanging free
Would you not like to be ok, ok, ok
When were walking by the water
Splish splash me and you taking a bath
When were walking by the water
Come to my toes to my ankles to my head to my soul
Then Im blown away
When were walking by the water
Splish splash me and you taking a bath
When were walking by the water
Come to my toes to my ankles to my head to my soul
Then Im blown away
I cant believe that we would lie in graves
Wondering if we had spent our living days well
I cant believe that we would lie in graves
Wondering what we might of been
I cant believe that we would lie in graves
Wondering if we had spent our living days well
I cant believe that we would lie in graves
Wondering what we might of been
Would you not like to be
Would you not like to be
I cant believe that you would not like to be
Would you not like to be
Ok, ok, ok,
Ok, ok, ok,
Ok, ok, ok,
Ok, ok, ok,
Dont dance away

song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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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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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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Pierre The Penquin

'I have just been swimming to catch my fish. I have 3, I love fish it is absolutely delicious, I don’t want them cooked, I can’t see the sense in that, I will eat them raw one by one and savor every bite. They are cold and slippery to slide down my throat. I will eat my fish first, then I might go for another swim, or I might go for a snooze for a while.'

Who knows?

Pierre the penguin has just been swimming,
to catch his evening meal.
He does not need a boat for this,
or a rod or reel.
He can swim very fast,
and catch his fish quite easily.
Pierre is well equipped for this,
has you all can see.

He has a flipper on each leg,
that makes him very strong.
So, when he goes swimming,
he can stay out there quite long.
The fish are cold and slippery,
to slide down Pierre's throat.

The oil in the fish,
gives Pierre his lovely coat.
After his meal,
he might go for another swim,
or he might go for a snooze.
Which one do you think,
Pierre, should really choose?

poem by Pamela lutwyche
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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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Gefilte Fish

My version of a Jewish folk song;
the 2nd stanza should start slow,
then get faster & faster to the end.

Gefilte fish, I love you;
I love you, gefilte fish;
I swear by the stars above you,
You're such a tasty dish,
Hey!

You once were free
Out in the sea,
Until somebody caught you,
But now, wise guy,
'You'll see that I
Will eat you 'cause I bought you,
Hey!

Gefilte fish, I love you
I love you, gefilte fish
I swear by the stars above you
You're such a tasty dish,
hey!

poem by John Bliven Morin
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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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In His Fishing Expedition

in his fishing expedition
his bait is this bluff
and with gullibility
you take the bait,
swallow the hook, line and sinker

i say
baby you have not yet learned the intricate art of the spies
those who are still not captured by the enemies
in the middle of their yards

take the bait
and put it back to the sea
you must learn how to fish too

in this expedition of lies and deception
take the shape of the mythical mermaid
swim like a slimy fish but sing like a beautiful woman.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At The Gill-Nets

Tug at the net,
Haul at the net,
Strip off the quivering fish;
Hid in the mist
The winds whist,
Is like my heart's wish.

What is your wish,
Your heart's wish?
Is it for home on the hills?
Strip off the fish,
The silver fish,
Caught by their rosy gills.

How can I know,
I love you so,
Each little thought I get
Is held so,
It dies you know,
Caught in your heart's net.

Tug at your net,
Your heart's net,
Strip off my silver fancies;
Keep them in rhyme,
For a dull time,
Fragile as frost pansies.

poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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The Fisherman's Boat

I am tied to a pole
In me came and sat a fisherman with a big mole
He had a fishing rod and a net
With a bucket and bait so wet

He untied me and rowed me
Into the deep sea
And with rod, net and bait
He caught fish till late

He went home with a big fish
To prepare and eat a tasty dish
Tomorrow again he’ll come wearing his overcoat
To untie me, his little fishing boat.

poem by Niharika Singh
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Fish Deeper, says HE

Rainy days chill makes me lazy here in my cabin
Only croaks of frogs, I hear, singing with no rhythm,
Snails crawl on the ground; earthworms are visible in my garden
Used them as baits, to the river I went for some fishing.

Yet water running from slopes makes the river cold
No fish on surface, they swim deep and avoid,
I stayed hours while singing 'Raindrops Keeps Fallin' in my Head'
But nay, no fish eats my bait; can I just shoot them, instead?

Sam said true, 'Fish deep, fear not to plunge deep
Fulfillment is gained; why not face your fear,
Swim and play, water is enticing, dear
Water holds fun and lots from it to keep! '

I like to catch fish, though I cannot swim deep
Neither kill a fish, take off its intestines and gills,
Scaling it, cook and eat it in zest
I'd prefer catching fish and throw it back, I guess!

Hmn...I think I prefer it as a sport than feed
Yet I have naughty thoughts as I do the deed,
If my man was here, he may join me as we catch fish
Ha ha! Can we make love before we eat the main dish? (Wink)

poem by InNer WhisPers
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Ducks of Equality

Dark brown-black ducks
splish-splash and
pitter-patter on
gently rocking waves
of glee
When a light gray-white duck
tip-taps and
tip-toes
shyly shivering
'May I join? ' quacks he.

The dark brown-black ducks
easily accept
the light gray-white duck
as one of their own
and joyfully they swim and play
In chilly water
'til they're freezing to the bone

And I wonder:
Why can't America be
more like the
dark brown-black ducks
and the
light gray-white duck
floating on the waves
of acceptance and equality?

poem by Charlotte Riddle
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When I Was A Child

when i was a child
i used to fish in the nearby river
there was silence
i can hear the songs of the reeds
and the whispering sighs of the nipa palms
i sat and waited
until a fish swallows my hook, line and sinker
and the with one pull i got the fish
off the water and into the soil
it grapples for death
for taking my bait.

now, i have become a man
and i have nothing to do with the fishes anymore

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rain, Rain, Rain!

Rain, rain, rain
As kids, by then
We played in pools
And chased butterflies
Beautiful were flowers
Rain, rain, rain
Splish, splash, splosh
Warming is my heart, rain
This night, all come, sleepiness
Your song. My lullaby, rain
Rain, rain, rain
Happy kids and butterflies
Rain
Warm hearts and lullabies
Rain, rain, rain.

poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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In Constant Struggle

there is this hook, line and
sinker

someone is a fish and he
is caught

the urchins and clams
and octopuses watch helplessly

the fish is this philosophy of
being caught and wanting to be free

you are inside this ocean and
you are this fish

and then you wish to become a man
all your life you feel the fish in there
hook, line and sinker

the fish in you and the man within
in constant struggle

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Young Man And The Sea

One day I sailed,
my ship out to sea,
I went for the want,
to fish and be free.

And I baited my line,
with a shriveled old thing,
my heart was the bait,
I hoped soon it would sing.

And on that very day,
I'd gotten my wish,
for teasing my heart,
was the most beautiful fish.

But it only nibbled,
and I loved that fish,
until my heart fell,
and was lost to the abyss.

The fish lost it's interest,
and then swam away,
I lost love for all else,
on that fateful day.

I still love the thing,
with this hole in my chest,
for in all of the sea,
that fish was the best.

And I still look for the fish,
or the heart that it drowned,
but I know what was lost,
cannot be found.

And so there my heart lies,
on the floor of the sea,
lost to the waves,
of my agony.

poem by Enrico Orbita
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