Challenge: Everybody's got a fish poem

[Agnes]

It's true. Everybody's got a fish poem. If you don't have a fish poem, you are not a poet. So, if you've been slacking off because you're afraid of worms or can't swim, get over it. Here's your chance to write that fish poem. If you already have a fish poem in your bucket, there's no law that says you can't have two or fifty, so write another. If you'd like, you can use "Everybody's got a fish poem" as the title or first line. All right. Get to fishin'!


Agnes
::wanders off to cut bait::

[olson29]

Pisces Women (that's my poem)

[Cat Sith]

I don't think I have a fish poem. Carp! Okay. Okay. *deep breaths* I can do this. Fish. Fishy. Smelly. Scales. Slimy. Fish poem. Uh huh. Does sushi count?

[Agnes]

[olson29]

Still waiting for your poem

[Agnes]

Wonderfish

Round and round the goldfish glides;
he knows not of sea nor tides.
What wonders does goldfish survey
swimming round and round all day?




There. That's one. I'll have to dig for the other.
Agnes

[Agnes]

Another old one.


Big Fish

Who started this debate
about poetry and art?
He must have been a big fish--
a worm-lover, no doubt.

About poetry and art,
there is so much to consider.
A worm-lover, no doubt,
can avoid the ocean's dangers.

There is so much to consider--
the tiniest fish
can avoid the ocean's dangers
by swimming in a school.

The tiniest fish--
just one dot in a sea of dots--
by swimming in a school,
goes unnoticed.

Just one dot in a sea of dots,
that creepy fellow
goes unnoticed.
He wiggled off the hook.

He must have been a big fish,
that creepy fellow
who started this debate.
He wiggled off the hook.

[Agnes]

An even older one.


Koi Pond in Winter

Naked, the branch bows,
peers through frosty glass. Below,
golden king shimmers.

[Agnes]

In a Pawn Shop Window

Made in China,
the upset vase,
in disgrace, hides
its fragile face
and its sorrow
from cut glass eggs
that will not hatch
in nests of wire
and pewter fish
with ruby eyes
that cannot swim
in tattered lace.

[Agnes]

What Stinks

Here's a fish.
So, what's it to ya.
If you blink,
it just might screw ya
in the nose
or other orifice.
There. 'Tis done.
I've served my porpoise.

[Agnes]

Catch of the Day

Rheumy-eyed catfish,
captain, steers his yacht of scum
through a tin can sea.

[Agnes]

At the Supermarket

Because Mother raised a gentleman,
I try not to laugh at you sitting there
in a puddle of chocolate milk--
dairy-section centerpiece.

Only minutes ago, I saw your same
wide-eyed, gaped-mouth expression
(pain or bewilderment?)
gracing a trout in the seafood case.

Like any gallant knight,
I swallow my smile
(I will not laugh)
and hold out my hand to rescue you.

But you, demure damsel, will have none of that.
My only warning is a blink, as you grasp my hand,
then give a fierce jerk, and reel me in
to land with a wet thump at your side.

I bite my tongue,
taste blood.
But I will not cry--
because Father raised a real man.

[Agnes]

Think that's all. How many fish was that, seven?

Agnes

[olson29]

Reina the Blackfish (freestyle)


I am in all the seas and oceans, feel me,
Swim in the waters with me, let us. Join.

Antarctica, Mediterranea, deeper, shallower
Everywhere
Except Amazon, Asia, Congo,
Reina Forests rain, I feel, I am sorry for pain.

I spyhop out North-Pacific ocean,
My dorsal fin stands, up, out the water.
Black eyes, hair, and no natural predators.
I porpoise with noise, out then in water.

Join me and my friends, I swim over
30 MPH, hold on! I am 21 feet long
Can you feel me, when you create moments with me.
Taste the salt stuck on the rims of my air

Receiver. I... love to sing and dance. Am I crazy, let's
Go to salt water air gravity, elements, let us;
Yes. I've had babies, the men do not live as
Long. The women here understand. I love my babies.

[Cat Sith]

I will try.

You posted a poem once about a fish with all these hook marks. Made me cry. Buckets. Do you remember it? Author? I wanted to look it up a few times but could not remember the name. Post it here maybe in the fishy poem thread?