Best Eel Poems


Premium Member It's 'Oh Fish Eel' - 'Fish N Chips' For Andrea

It CAN be ‘fish n chips’  stop carping on, there’s no plaice for rudeness!

It's so sad to see a person out of their depths and just floundering

Why is it that some people always think they're right - for the halibut!

What a load of pollocks! Oh my cod she’s crabby …  Salmon call a doctor!

I'd order fries with my fish - but I'd get hooked for not calling them chips!

I've had a whale of a time casting out the bait with these fishy puns!

Stop those fishcious lines ...no debait, 'Halibut poem' is fintastic!

It’s shellfish fishing for compliments, but I write a good monoku!

A Greased Eel In a Vat of Astroglide

Slipperier than a Greased Eel In a Vat of Astroglide
That Hillary’s sociopathic streak is a mile wide
In case you haven’t noticed, the fix is in
But her followers love her even if she’s guilty as sin
We all think she should be a woman of greater convictions 
Both moral and criminal, given her total lack of friction
She’s got a layer of Teflon thicker than Gotti
And to the Secret Service, a mouth full of potty
She looks crookeder than even a barrel of snakes will
Phonier than A William Jefferson Clinton three dollar bill

7/24/16
© By Author
For Contest: Create An Idiom
Sponsor: Jesse Day

The Eel River Tragedy

Eel River Tragedy

I’ve gold dollars for my darlin and a Stetson for my son, 
and in my old broke saddlebags, I keep my Schofield gun,
when home I’ll make some coffee and tell a tale I’ve seen, 
about the Eel river tragedy, the like since never seen

In sunset’s dust, ten thousand steers, drank from muddy banks, 
while one hundred thirsty cowboys rode into their ranks, 
the water soon was muddy, a bubbling rattlesnake red, 
and fifty cowhands underfoot, man and boy lay dead

A cyclone made of hooves and horns, took them to their grave,
two thousand of the hasty breed, died from drinking mud, laid 
poisoned in the mornin sun, did cheat the slaughterer’s thud

Now that’s a lot of good men, who didn’t need to die, 
they’re lookin down in anger from the roundup in the sky, 
so if your steers need water, then split the herd in turns,
and send your hands upriver, to drink by settled ferns


"eel Pie"

I'm longing for warm eel pie,
tis' a squirming delight to the eye,

     me wife she eschews,
     eel pie and eel stews,
 
and eats only fried eel on rye!
© Bill Frew  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Dad and Me Under the Sea

I went out with my dad today, to swim beneath the sea.
He took me by the hand and said ‘just stay right next to me’.

We stepped out to the water and we swam out on a wave,
I was nervous and excited but I tried to be so brave.

I grabbed his hand and looked below, my mask against my face,
I floated like an astronaut, just like in outer space.

At first I saw the ocean floor, with sand and rocks and reef,
and then my eyes beheld a world that seemed beyond belief…

Coral making strange new shapes with lots of little spaces,
and I could see all sorts of things were living in those places.

I saw some little Tiger Barbs, swimming ‘round an eel,
I couldn’t wait to tell my mom how great it made me feel.

Next, we swam to where the water started getting deep,
We came upon a turtle and we woke him from his sleep.

He turned to take a look at us and slowly swam away,
I hope I get to see him when I dive again some day.

There were so many creatures, so many things to see,
I forgot that I was swimming and simply felt so free.

I saw a pair of Goatfish, found a Trigger Fish, or two,
I saw a shrimp of red and white, deep in the ocean blue.

I got a little cold and asked my dad to go to shore.
He turned around and headed back and said to watch for more.

I was thinking we had seen it all when I finally got my wish;
to my surprise we came across a great big Puffer Fish!

He lumbered out of hiding and we followed him a while.
I wonder if he watched me back and if he saw me smile.

Well, we finally made it back to shore and on the sandy beach,
Excited that the ocean was no longer out of reach.

I can’t wait to go again, to see the fish below,
I think I’ll ask my friends next time if they would like to go.

The Eel

Slithering in the depthless waters
We find the eel—never blinking
Rarely has he seen the sun
Encompassed with mistrust
He’s a soloist of the deep

Calm burning in his soul, 
We find his home
Serenely built on the quietude of his spirit
He melts into his cold tunnels
He’s the keeper of the ocean’s secrets

Frowning and gaping 
He lifts his slimy head
Watching the strangers swimming along
Catching interest in one or two
Only to assist them in knowing—he’s the devourer of whomever he pleases to 
overthrow

He’s so unobtrusive, this little creature
Yet fire seems to burn from within
As if by coming a little closer…
He’d reveal his secrets from beneath the fin

In awe the eel will slither back in his throne of emptiness
Silent desperation was never described so discreetly
Yet he conquers all completely
And survives longer than his kind could ever appreciate

Soloist of the sea
I doubt you desire me to observe
Your slimy, despicable existence
But you are worthy of acknowledgement—
Much worthier than I myself 

For truly, my eely presence in these lines
Is diminutive against your profound, human-like indifference


Divination In An Ape and Eel Pie But No Gravy

Turtles drooping can be signs of elitist tantrums on borderline wave cones. Such colours. And often feedback is not fodder so therefore indigestible. Taming a 3foot bullock who is battling to grow horns is often not an easy task. Sometimes content to chew cud and at other times rampaging and knocking over thistle glasses who often look quite shocked. If one resembles an otter can one dive? Flotation is the way of saying get up. And getting up is often fantastically fun terminology that means that the years have created an engagement long overdue. No exact ritual can perform an exact result so play light, put right, and glide on harmonics in air. Or over tables. Onlookers are quite often seasick. Oh how rather remarkable then for therein lies much Flightly kingdoms of rain and wind gods. 190th element and a half turn of a key. Let it not be said that a sausage can not jet ski and a mouse in a tutu cannot balance on a promenade in a wind. Wild wind whipping willows. A 1foot humanoid said pied a puskin skot in a bright patterned blouse. And ba said the eastern maiden. Longitudinal latitudes create attitudes to store in neat ordered patterns. On skylines in sky castle yards and gates are often discovering a new way of laughing. Draping a cotton snood to correct ways. Standing on a 5 centimetre bridge on mountains over 500 feet. Tailoring a suit and fixing a boot with the flem from a laughing hedgehog. Dusk discovered discourse discounted draperies driving drinking derived design divine divided *** canopies *** resistance *** ha ha ha ha *** now attempt to land in orderly ways. *** valour *** ape eel pies ***

An Eel and Steel

Any and even the coldest eel
loses a plate to any cold steel.

Volodymyr Knyr
2017

Never Date An Electric Eel

Have you ever dated an electric eel?
You'll never forget the way it feels,
If you roll with an eel in the sack,
Brace yourself for that electric crack,
A hug will make your eyes bug out,
A kiss will make you twitch and shout,
Visions of eel love will burn in your head,
Check your pulse for you might be dead,
A date with an electric eel can be so exciting,
Like dancing with a bolt of lightning,
Sadly our love would never last,
But I have to say it was quite a blast.

Motto Matters Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Natasha Scragg
09/10/21

I Spy Eel Pie

'It seems surreal,'
whispered the eel,
'and I'm unsure
what that is for.'
He nodded then
towards my pen.
He wriggled round
without a sound,
and quite aghast,
he scribbled fast,
his mouth around
the pen I'd found -
and here I quote
the words he wrote:
'I am an eel
so here's the deal -
no jelly stuff *
(I'm far too tough).'
And then tight-lipped,
he duly flipped
into the sea,
and winked at me.
I waved bye-bye,
and floated high
above the crowds
who sat on clouds...

*jellied eel

for Nina's Surreal contest
© Jack Horne  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Ethereal Enigma and Empathetic Eel

Ethereal enigma echoed empathic eel ‘s emotional elevation
Elongated elusive elephant-like Edison expected ectoplasm
Extrasensory efforts of exacting Ellis effortlessly eludes evildoers
Exasperating empathetic eel and elusive ethereal enigma

Premium Member The Eel

Eric swam in a pool of dreams 
Score and five years passed people's squeams
Contest of quick start 
Conquest of brave heart 
Standing strong with flag's tiny gleams

Premium Member A Bigger Eel

longer
conger

Eel Wheel

there once was a very clever eel
who liked to grab her tail like a wheel
always caused a giggle
every time she wiggled
she just loved the way it made her feel

Make Me Laugh Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
8/26/19

9-9-6-6-9

Premium Member eel

eel
slimy
well streamlined
lives in water
fish

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