Best Fish Poems

Do you remember me

They walk silently along my hallways.
Floors littered with faded finery.
Do you remember my Granduer?
I had once been called the Queen of the sea.
Pulled down to the ocean's floor.
Swaying silently, so many sad souls
They are entombed here 
Forever a part of me 
Left to wander my halls
Sharing this watery hell
Faces frozen in skeletal grins
Evidence of our eternal sadness
Fish now swim across my stage
The band is silent
Still I remember
I absorbed them note by note
They played till my last moment
Yet it was not for my benefit
For I had betrayed them
My promises were empty
Temptation, travel, time together
Some mercifuly escaped
What did they remember of me?
Some came back in ghostly form
Searching for those I had taken from them
I will not release them
For I do not wish to be alone.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

The Fisherwoman - For Contest

A desperate spinster, Jane took

strong measures the day she would cook

fresh trout. Her date bit

the barb left in it!

He truly was caught on her hook!


4/26/2015

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Diary of a Salmon

Day 1
Today I passed a shad,
on his way to Prince William Sound.
He protested that I go downstream.
But to the current he is bound.

Day 2
I encountered a fly on the surface.
But it was the ploy of a man.
To eat me was his plan.
My escape did him a disservice.

Day 3
Today I came across a bear.
By accident I entered her lair.
Her approaches, she kept deploying.
And her cubs were winy and annoying.

Day 4
An assault from an eagle came upon me.
From above, the attack I did not see.
A glare threw him off by an inch.
Certainly, I’m lucky to be free

Day 5
Today the river was crowded,
by comrades going to the same place.
Because of them my passage was shrouded.
And I couldn’t get them out of my face.

Day 6
My journey has been long.
Against the current, one must be strong.
The objective of my journey may end in vain.
At least, unlike others, I went against the grain.

Copyright © Daniel Carter | Year Posted 2016

Fishing Adventure

    "Fishing Adventure"



fishing is a sport of supreme relaxation
beneath golden Sun with great anticipation
while warm water is quiet
fish feast on worm diet
as the boat gently sways in utter fascination.

soon the fishing pole jerks on thin line
a sweet catch on which two hearts will dine
once a struggle ensues
other fish sing the blues
top things off with a bottle of wine.

surprise this fish was a white shark sea beast
run for your life, no fish feast
jaws revisited blue wave
adventure in a cold cave
lived to tell this tale of terror, at least.


*For Seren Robert's Fisherman Contest.
*Dec. 1, 2012. 

Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart | Year Posted 2012

From our Deck-Front in December

From
our pink deck with a Jarra  cocktail table-set
We sit awaiting  sunset with an
 ‘Hawaiian absence’ of seagulls
As dusk comes  with violet echoes
across the spotted water,
from the resturaunts
 comes a wine hubbub - table- laughter

Mountains, marshmallowed
in occasional cloud on this still night- 
constant torchlight on quiet water
un-moving palms, paddle sounds

A swanky stingray drifts past

A shadowed water taxi 
and strangers who wave at us 


 Suzanne Delaney

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2014

haiku - into the blue

in the deep blue
  the boat lay tilted to one side-
      
                         rainbow fish explore


_________________________
February 11, 2016

Haiku

Submitted in the contest Haiku 102, 
sponsor, Nathan D

8th Place

In A Melting World

The Inuit call the Narwhal the one that points to the sky,
            Because of their unique way of aiming their tusk upward;
The scientific name Narwhal means one tooth and one horn,
      Narwhals are the subject of mythical tales, legend and lore.

Mottled white gray and black is their skin , so corpse-like,
             Most spend the winter in Baffin Bay, northern Canada;
In heavy packs of ice, a world of giant crashing ice burgs,
      A treeless white tundra that goes on forever and ever.

The Narwhal can dive down miles in the water to feed,
            Sadly some die of suffocation due to the surface freezing;
They do need to take breaths through cracks in the ice,
      One must wonder, why they choose this frozen location.

Narwhals summer in Hudson Bay, Greenland and Russia,
            Moving through narrow channels during the spring melt;
They are threatened by overhunting by the Inuit for food and ivory,
      Also from mining and drilling and from global warming.

Such amazing creatures, a fantastic animal of fifteen feet,
            With this incredible long spiraled tusk, unicorn-like;
An eight foot flexible horn that bends to the left, mysteriously,
       Actually a tooth that continues to grow all of their life.

All males have these tusks along with another smaller tooth,
            Emerging from their upper jaw, with no apparent use;
Not anything to do with a weapon or for fishing or for eating fish,
      It seems to be a beautiful male adornment for finding love.

Often they are seen rubbing tusks, this is called tusking,
            It is thought to be not only part of mating but hierarchy;
Narwhals communicate by clicking, whistling and knocking,
     A haunting sound the pierces the frozen silent ice world.

In past years, many were captured for scientific study,
            However, they all died in captivity, it seems they need ice;
Some wild creatures are just not meant to be kept captive,
     Many of God's animals are just suppose to be free in nature.

________________________
September 19, 2015

Verse

Written by Broken Wings

For the contest, Impress Me With A Narwhal Poem, sponsor, Skat

Ninth Place

Fish Flirting

A yellow-tailed angelfish

flashed his tail at me.

His shimmering skin was all aglow,

as he wiggled his fins and waved hello.

Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2014

Malta

Mediterranean island, where one finds so much to do
Abundant days of sunshine and the sea is limpid blue
Lavender, thyme and laurel; history spreads in rich galore
The temples, feasts, devotion bring religion to the fore.
Acclaimed for fruit and honey and the fish that’s brought to shore.

This is a friendly nation; you’ll be welcomed by a toast
To the best of health intended to last long while she’s your host.


------------------------------------------------------------- 
Contest: A poem you have not entered in a contest #5
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placed: 6th

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014

Kissing Rocks

(Seen at the aquarium)

Eye to eye

in a stony embrace,

two rockfish kissing,

face to face.





.

Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2015

An English Life

An English Life

It is midnight the Milk train pulls into darnall station
No ordinary passengers here
Steelworkers with their families
Loaded with fishing tackle, sandwiches and maggots
The Fossdyke in Lincolnshire, their destination
The fare Half a crown for happiness

The long walk in the dark,
A stairway to heaven in my memory
Dawn on the Foss and a cup of tea,
Fever in the blood, the first eel of the day
Our cane rods lovingly handed down from father to son.

I remember, Pheasants looking for mates
Shrieking their songs of love
Swans begging for scraps
Their majestic white necks, nodding,
 A greeting into their kingdom
 
The mist off the water revealing families,
being together, laughing, enjoying what was free.
For tomorrow the grime returns.
A conversation with a stranger then out of a bag,
The rabbits, sometimes hare, sometimes pheasant.
Onions and carrots, shortly follow
The smell, forever linked with summer
The scent of my childhood

Summers were hotter then;
At times I drank the Foss, for I was nature’s child
Being clean was never a priority,
Catching fish was, never killed always returned,
Our Covenant with Nature.
For it is the sport that we honour. 

And with age comes reflection,
Poor I may have been, my education neglected
But I have a Doctorate in nature, for I have seen the dawn
Away from the factories, where the pheasant runs free
And where the swan reins king, I was part of them.
It was here I learned what family was, 
To share, my last drink of pop with my neighbour,
 A simple life, maybe, but what a life

For I have seen what Constable painted
Lived every word that Wordsworth wrote
Understood the Fragrance of the Flowers
 And revelled in the poets dream.
I loved every colour, every sound, every scent,
 And every fish I ever caught.
 
Father and mother are gone now,
Never complained about their Station in life, 
For they found paradise on the Foss.

They left me the seeds to their heaven
And the key to my happiness
A key forged in a mans worth
To open up my soul to the beauty
That surrounds us all.

Dawn on the Foss, was my church
 My soul was cleansed here
And my heart was shaped here
My memories kept safe here
And the Foss fever still resides here
I will die on some bank side, one day
Rod in hand, and I will be content,
So Tight lines my fellow Anglers.

Copyright © steven cooke | Year Posted 2011

THE REEF

The unceasing roar
Surf and coral,
hitting the shore

This underwater show
This blaze of colour,
roar of surf.... so

Coral reef home,
so many fish,
blue sea foam,
this is my wish............

This living  breathing reef,
surrounded by sea so blue
Living breathing jewel,
you want to be it too

Crashing of sea,
exploding white foam
I want this to be my home
Mighty blue sea
This reef........
exploding foam

Rush of water,
through the coral
Small fish dart
Multicoloured streaks,
natures' freaks

This roar of colour,
sealed in blue
Deep down,
Neptunes' crown

This surf of white,
hitting golden sand
Sun,so bright
This colour ,you understand
Sealed in blue,
rich too..........

Rhythmic roar
The colour you saw
Living breathing reef,
underwater leaf

This moving swell,
coral reef does dwell
Sealed in sea of blue,
underwater paradise
Dive with me too

This brief escape,
weightless in coral sea
This magnificent waterscape,
brilliant green  underwater leaf
that is part of...............
The reef

Electric blue fish dart about
other creatures,
their colour does shout
Ceasless flow,
upon this reef
Coral sea,
let us go below
for, we love it so

Pink and green,
purple and red
the brightest you have ever seen
blue and yellow
where have you been?

This reef encircles me,
crown of coral
Sealed by blue sea
Here lies the moral,
Neptunes' son...... you see
natures' son doesn't quarrel

Copyright © Matthew Brackley | Year Posted 2007

Last Memory

A fuchsia sunset,
a vacant room in the inn 
with a vista near the sea,
inhaling your sweet scent
that lingered and excited
as we hugged each other on the porch.
The calm sea flowed into the bay,
the fishermen coming in with their catch,
the red mullet, elegant to see,
tasteful to eat as the bar-b-q flared,
the fish sprinkled in herbed oil,
garnished with garlic,
and an aromatic salsa verde,
plus salad and its vinaigrette.

I remember your fragile face,
your tender mouth munching,
spitting the tiny small bones
the red mullet is renowned for.
Your satisfaction of the freshness of the catch,
your pleasure for the craggy crustaceans,
laid out like precious jewels
on a dewy bed of snow-white ice.
 
Alas I remember,
for it was our last luscious meal together.
Our last lovemaking in the bed sitter,
Next day you went to war never to return.

18 May 2016
Contest _______ memory 
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A

Contest judged on  5/28/2016
Not placed

Second Chance - 4 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings 
Placed 5

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016