Best Bluefish Poems
The bed feels so much purrfect on the morning warm.
Comfort holds like sleepy pillowed arms
If I could just say "Presto" and return
I'd rise to walk a beach in rising sun
Dressed in might as well be naked shirt and jeans
The ice of ocean water on my feet
As long legged pipers run ahead
and wind gusts slice through wetted skin
Presto
And the sheets are still as warm
The pillow shape still fits my head
I stand leg braced across the bow rail
To watch a bluefish futile jump to get away
To land and bounce behind my feet
A TV Cajun cook stopped catch release plans long ago
There's three filetted and chopped in egg wet sauce
Two buckets neath the grill
To soon be dropped into the dry
and then saute as boat approaches shore
To join with friends at mooring dock
Supplying toasted goodness and hot coffee
Buttered marmaladed croissant wedges
Taste so fine
Presto
and these sheets are just devine
Headlines of irony in life…
Human satire—cuts like a knife.
The unsinkable ship, that sinks.
Surrounded by peeps, yet alone.
Priests who ‘prey’—yet sins they atone.
Pastor fights alcohol, but drinks.
Tax czar who cheats on his taxes.
Animal fans—hunt to relax.
Abortion kills—with nods and winks.
Lifeguard fearing water—lauds land.
‘Football’—a game played with the hands.
Oedipus—breaks riddle and Sphinx.
Headlines of irony in life...
“Women”—they may now take a wife.
The steakhouse owned by a vegan.
Pedophile daycare directors.
Homeless real estate inspectors.
WAR—‘politics’ by other means.
Fighting drugs, while promoting booze.
Mutual consent—the new ruse.
Prolonged charity squelches teens.
Green tinted speckles on bluefish.
Hitler’s Grandfather was Jewish!
Men—affectionately called ‘queens.’
In life, every nook and cranny,
Holds the next ‘headline irony.’
Good, bad, or sad—it’s Uncanny!
June 2, 2018
Written for Connor Lotts' poetry contest entitled, "Hutinashro - My First Contest Poetry Contest"
In some places, springs leaves too early
making way for the fun season; whichever
the activity we choose, let's do it well and happily...
before loneliness sinks us into unbearable despair.
If depression, aches and pains prevent some from engaging
in sports: read a novel, do cleaning chores and try walking...
it will do the body good and keep the mind active and sharp;
isn't age a burden for musicians not being able to play a harp?
If only we were young, we would do hiking and climb a mount,
go sailing and catch salmon, lobster, carp and bluefish;
at eighty, some join a marathon and win it: what's their secret?
Is there a miraculous pill that can boost energy in a flash?
Let the fun season be a daily escape from much boredom and stress,
summer is not only a season for teens who wear baseball caps;
find a sport not too strenuous, something that you can enjoy...
my favorite one: is having a tennis match with unbeatable uncle Tony!
Copyright ( c ) 20015 by Andrew Crisci
Our oceans and rivers, once so limpid,
have become huge dumps
for industries and sewages,
doesn't the stench make anyone sick?
Blame your inactive Congressman
for not halting the daily, illegal dumping;
do you propose an urgent ban,
or walk straight into the snare, not fretting?
Take a short walk on the beach at any hour; spot
golden trout, bluefish and shellfish dying from pollution,
writhing on the sand...this is their graveyard?
Are we an advanced civilization without any intuition?
Seabirds may be the lucky ones for instance,
to find easy food, but they might also be at risk
from the poison that's killing every kind of fish;
and how can people pass by them and still glance?
If I were running for Governor of my beautiful state,
I would stop this madness, although some may be outraged;
should I watch pollution ruin the environment and wait?
If corruption has prevailed, woe to anyone not heeding my word!
Brutal winds snap frozen branches,
no drowsy Tree Sparrows soak up sun rays;
I shiver wondering if they can survive...
somewhere huddled together to stay alive!
The Hudson River has the slowest flow in several years,
it struggles to reach the huge Atlantic Ocean that roars;
there all the boats are anchored while hungry seagulls
search the icy waves for a prey that fears their beaks!
Playful dolphins are seen often and amaze spectators,
hawks perch on red maples and birches unless it snows;
and watch them with killer eyes unable to defeat these creatures:
they should be happy to catch bluefish and river herring, not these!
Ebbs won't rise, as they do on moonlights, their surface is too bleak,
and the absence of a plenilune surely predicts their imminent doom;
there are six weeks to spring: isn't it the awaited relief we seek,
or the longing for flowing water and weeping willows to bloom?
I am a vision of Cody
Immortal now at five dollars
First beers in Lowell
actually on Jack Kerouac
Flutes Sirens and choppers
A blended symphony
A cacophony in warm morning sun
Words in Stone
Along the canal
Blackwater yellow leaf
Laying low on celluloid
Bluefish plastic bag diving deep
Into library basement
Pied Piper Amram invites me
To breathe life into myself
And my words as my journey continues
Across this rock called earth
Slick seaweed captures her footprints.
Rock jetty perils are concealed
as a thick, salty shroud begins to lift.
Waves’ power lures her.
Above deep water she bends,
chilled by spray and cool December winds,
intoxicated by sea scents.
The aroma carries her back,
drifting to days and nights
when bluefish aplenty they’d caught here.
Memories of their laughter,
playful, loving voices
reverberate across the rocks.
Tears she sheds for just four years of bliss.
“Not long enough,” murmurs the young widow,
a siren crooning to the waves for one more day.
Lifting fog reveals a shooting star;
many had stroked the black velvet heaven
on romantic nights shared here.
Recognizing the sign, she gently lifts the lid,
disbursing his ashes,
tenderly fulfilling his wish.
He wanted to be one with the sea
part of an eternal life
they would soon share.
*Entry for Carol’s “Let Down” contest
Oh, my heart will always be
At a cottage by the sea
Me and Michael, mom and dad
What memories did my family had
Lobsters clams and knotty pine
Shore dinners with the neighbors we did dine
Peanut butter sandwiches on the beach
Carousel rides were our Wednesday treat
Early morning breakfasts’, fishing at the dock
Bluefish grilling within a lemon butter stock
Renting floats and riding waves
Coconut oil and tropical ice shaves
Fun o Rama and ice cream cones
Drive-in movies, skipping stones
Oh, my heart will always be
At a cottage by the sea
But time keeps rolling and people pass on
No more floats or skipping stones
No more peanut butter, marshmallow treats
No more jumping waves at the beach
No more lobsters clams or neighbors in to dine
No more smell of knotty pine
No more Michael Mom and Dad
Oh I miss the fun we had.
Oh, my heart will always be
At a cottage by the sea
Put away the pearls put away the dust
Turn the page to chapter 2; it’s only right and just
I’ll always have my memories they can’t be taken from me
Time for me to pack my soul and leave the cottage by the Sea
Today my heart will always be
At a condo by the sea
Lining the walls for all to see
Are pictures of Mom and Dad and Michael and Me.
And lest we forget where my heart will be
At a cottage by the sea.
No much to do on a lovely day?
Grab your fishing pole,
go to a peaceful spot
where the sun is bright
and seagulls swoop;
don't mind a cloud that's gray,
it will turn golden and sparkle with light,
by dropping some raindrop
on your baseball cap! Will it remind you of Fall,
of days gone as youth?
No plans for the weekend?
Get in your car and drive
to the closest bay and do some cool fishing,
feel the spirit of fishermen
who go out the windy ocean and return smiling!
I've done that and got cod, bluefish and salmon...
I gave half of it to my neighbor Fred,
but he got scared when he saw a lobster still alive!
Written on 12/10/2012
Became because
Background bedbug
Boldface bookcase
Blackmail blacklist
Misspoke backstroke
Bellboy below
Blacksmith bluefish
Backside backslide
4/1/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©