The fish's home is
the free water...
running,
or pacified,
rippling or calm...
not in aquariums subjected...
be it;
sea,
river,
lagoon,
Water... !
With tear drops,
your blue eyes
already turned to
a pair of acquariums
where seaweeds and mussels
have fully grown,
I wonder when fishes
swimming happily
will come to the throne
The Octopi Jars
by Michael R. Burch
Long-vacant eyes
now lodged in clear glass,
a-swim with pale arms
as delicate as angels'...
you are beyond all hope
of salvage now...
and yet I would pause,
no fear!,
to once touch
your arcane beaks...
I, more alien than you
to this imprismed world,
notice, most of all,
the scratches on the inside surfaces
of your hermetic cells...
and I remember documentaries
of albino Houdinis
slipping like wraiths
over the walls of shipboard aquariums,
slipping down decks'
brine-lubricated planks,
spilling jubilantly into the dark sea,
parachuting through clouds of pallid ammonia...
and I know now in life you were unlike me:
your imprisonment was never voluntary.
Originally published by Triplopia and The Poetic Musings of Sam Hudson. Keywords/Tags: Octopus, Octopi, Medusa, Sea Angel, Angel, Angels, Nature, Sea, Ocean, Aquarium, Aliens, Imprisonment, Prison, Boat, Ship, Ships, Shipwreck, Animal
What a relief Niagara Falls strawberry;
Misty rams saxophone solo;
Such a relief out of the blue lapis lazuli;
In jess what is this?
What a relief aquariums Blue Ribbon red birds;
Rocky Mountains sprig of mint;
Aroma kisses the mountain peaks;
4/26/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
Ariel eyes gaze towards sapphire seas.
Mermaids have no purpose in aquariums.
Yet so many struggle to escape shallow streams.
Sitting upon sandy shores,
depth of her emotions, reflect moonlight,
gently caressing welcoming waves.
Yearning to float free -
to wash away her worries,
her mind is like a constellation of stars,
hiding behind misty vapors.
Spiritual sounds summon her home.
Melodies of mystical nymphs,
liberate her supernal soul,
as an infinite power dwells within her.
As sand castles wash away,
Sea Urchins wash upon the shore,
craving to be beside her.
Sapphire seas cast a spell.
Dimness of the horizons clear,
permitting stars to illuminate into her eyes -
like a millions pearls placed inside
the chambers of her Oyster heart.
Letting go, each splash erases the past,
cleansing her mind, releasing subliminal chains,
swimming in depths, most would drown.
Her spirit once stranded upon barren land,
now bathes within oceans, not known to man.
Silent One
26 December 2018
A farmer in my location I am
Wise and knowledgeable I innovate
Today I grow fish in calabash of beer
They are happy swimming, eating
Aquarium of beer is natural home
My fish grows fat and foolish daily
And when I harvest for meals and sale
My fingers and arms they bite not
I want all farmers to imitate me
This is a good business for our times
The fish you grow in beer aquariums
Eat and drink whatever is given
Fellow farmers, come along with me
Let us grow fish in calabashes of beer
A shooting star is a blue orchid. At a Christmas party. But never in a fur coat. That would not be operable would it. Nevertheless a swinging peacock could disco dance in radiating beams from a single lamp. Heaping custard onto a crocus in a garden tent. How wise. How adoring. Scorn not a soldier in a basin. And wear ten ties. As it is often officially unsure what style of cloud will be passing. Gypsy skirted tigers sing beautifully and are always well presented. Operatic nerves of a small chimp waving. How quite quaint. Whilst the whipping of the breeze can smile in a teapot frame. Great. Clap then. Monstrous moons make minutes meekly. *** beak not a whale. *** operationally *** ha ha ha xx is a duck a dog? *** hexagonal mineral deposits xxxx aquarium ***
Swimming revolutions,
Walking in the right lane,
Cultural institutions,
Every second's the same.
Our destinies intertwine,
Though our paths differ,
While we are not caught on a fishing line,
We are all cycled through the same filter.
The steady monotony,
Of wake, swim, eat, sleep,
Echoes quite similarly,
To our habitat of mindless routine and day dreams.
We all dream of adventure yet squander our independence,
To you, tank or sea water have no difference,
You are all served the same universal dish,
Yet you always seem content in your glass container,
While we brood in our confinement constantly searching for a departure,
That is why at aquariums,
I find the people as fascinating as the fish.
The Cat’s Meow
Every once in a while I began to consider nature
and examine the things that God has made,
and the joy that the Lord has exhibited in the earth
and creatures He created in all of six short days.
The plant life, the colors and the trees of all sorts
evergreen and blooming varieties,
as He made them He said, it was good and showed
how very much He was pleased.
One needs to visit aquariums and see the beautifully colored fish
that His hand has designed,
prepared for various depths of the waters of the deep
and again, He said it is truly fine.
You check out the beautiful butterflies with such
gorgeous matchless detail,
our God’s infinite imagination in this color scheme
as well shows that He did not fail.
We see the creeping things upon the earth
and I know that they have to play a part,
of God’s eternal lasting plan
and it also shows He is a master of all art.
But finally we see the jungle cat
and the house varieties to,
tis one of my favorite things to hear either
roars or the cat’s meow at our nearby zoo.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
When I was a boy of three,
My sister much older than me
Raced me to the teen-age stage
Where we seemed about the same age.
We knew that folks of thirty
Were way over the hill
And their greatest thrill
Was to sit back and relax
While teen-agers furnished them facts.
But when we reached thirty,
Filled with awe, we foresaw,
That thirty was grace to behold,
And knew in our soul
Folks of fifty were hopelessly old!
But in our fifties we grabbed what we said,
And pushed “old age” way up ahead.
And at sixty we did the same.
Age was just a game not to disclaim.
In our seventies we slowed just a bit
But were still not ready to quit.
And now as octogenarians,
We breeze through museums and aquariums.
With many things to learn
While we have energy still to burn.
So youngsters don’t fret,
Old, we ain’t—not yet!
Aquarium with green lush moss gives a fish a habitat
Ph is an important part not too low, neutral is a safe state
Overfeeding is a disaster such unpleasant smells and algea blooms
you'll want to move into another room
Across the tank the fish like to swim darting in between plant leaves.
Snails like to stick on the walls eating little algea pieces and water fleas.
Snails are tastey to the old clown loach He can crunch and munch.
Trapdoor, mystery purple and orange, olive nirite look like little Mr. Magoos
Mystery is the most beautiful if ever in the notion to adopt a snail pet.
Beware potassium permanganese can kill snails and shrimp.
Cherry red shrimp are the cutest little guys; only an inch long full grown.
No better swimmer has ever been known!
Marimo is a legend of the orient kept for good luck and serenity.
Koi are not coy so don't be decieved they get quite large and spit for attention.
Gold fish are such a simple little fish bright and personable
Gold fish have a lot of ammonia which causes the fin rot.
Aquariums are not for the easily discouraged....
Fish are a wonderful enjoyment but sadness overcomes when life is cut short.
Blue days, like bruises on the mend
without your banter, breeze and light
without your words, my friend
Long hours, like stains of star's long scattered mist
without your laugh, infectious laugh
which brutal days once kissed
Tight thoughts, like packed aquariums blue
without your nudge, your breaking my shell
without the history we've been through
Right now, like aching deeper than the sea
without you here, to dissolve these shadows-
You should be here, with me.
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