Best Like A Fish Out Of Water Poems
A merman had one stubborn daughter
who rebelled against what her dad taught her.
When she swam to dry land,
she could then understand
she was just like a fish - out of water!
For the Out of Water Poetry Contest of Sheri Fresonke Harper
I wander about
like a fish out of water
in the surf blue sea
Me a traveler
in the congress of gray rocks
where carcajous howl
A vacant lot mind
wavered in the breeze empty
land soul never rests
Heart sighs seeks haven
warm breasts of the beloved
in my country home
I see the river
boatmen singing love ballad
flows out of water
Out of Water - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Sheri Fresonke Harper
Coconut mind
Practical
At first thought.
But all that lays inside
is the same milk you expected.
Sometimes the milk is worse.
My limbs flop around like a fish out of water
As I aimlessly do anything
Aimlessly everything
On my island
Alone.
I am able to provide myself something
Proud for a moment
Until I remember that everyone who ever loved me
Feels bad for me.
11 years old
Fortune cookie
I pick it up
‘Continue to sit’ it read
I took it to heart
I accepted every person
And hoped they would accept me.
Why would they?
All I have is spilt milk
Years of hammering my head
On my island
Alone.
Living off the grid..
I bid you ..
It's a challenge..
Living off the land..
For it's quite bland..
A taste of the great outdoors..
Mother Nature exposed..
Absolutely no power..
I cannot even take a shower..
Walk to the stream to fetch some water..
I feel like a fish out of water..
Always in my life I had it made..
Now I can't even get out of the shade..
The sun beats down..
I frown as I run for cover under a massive tree..
So I am free of sun burn..
Food is totally organic..
Which is fresh and pure..
That is for sure
Picking berries and fishing for salmon..
What a way to work up an appetite..
No technology had left it all behind..
Though I didn't think I would mind..
Life is simple living off the grid..
I rid myself of the everyday grind of urban living..
I bid it all a farewell..
Now I have learned how to survive..
So urban life can now take a nose dive..
Little Ila of warm Indian waters
was born without fins but with feathers.
“Fishes don’t fly,” they constantly told her
wings in water are just a bother.
Tightly she wound them close to her
and tried her best to keep up with peers
Oh, she once even tried to pluck out her feathers
so she wouldn't look like a fish out of water.
But as she grew, her wings became larger
and surely you realise, swimming became tougher.
Was she the only freak of nature,
she spent her time in depressed wonder
Then she met the turtle who seemed wiser
and gave her a dream of a sky up higher
There’d be hills and vales and trees and flowers
and an eternally bright cloudless summer.
The journey was arduous but nothing could deter
little Ila to defiantly labour up to the border
Then the sun shined in her eyes, struggle just a blur,
with a leap of faith soon she flew… out of water.
Smoke a little weed, drink a little drink, there's nothing to it are so you think, but before you keep going you need to take a good look because underneath there lies a hook. So you do a little here, you do a little there the high is real good and you just don't care, but before you know it your goose is cooked, the jonez is on cause you've been Hooked. Now you're a child of the night and you know this is not right but the hook within controls your body and mind and will lead you the wrong way every time.
So you try to resist but to no avail because that hook has got you hooked and it's taking you through pure hell. You see that hook is very deep and this is so true, but that's what you get when you deal get the Devil's brew. Now the doctor's will tell you that it's a disease, but it's that hook that's bringing you to your knees. Look how the hook is designed, and it has a one track mind. It don't know up, only down and it will take your crown. Then it will make you give up the fight and that's when it will turn out the light.
You know it has to be removed, only if you could, but you can't do it and it will start to even make death look good. Yes that hook is a very bad thing and this is no lie, take it for a joke and it will hang your ass out to dry. It will flopping around like a fish out of water, while bringing and making life harder and harder. There is a way out if you would like to know, God is good and He's the way to go. God will remove the hook and not just break the line, while leaving the hook within and still driving you out of your mind.
You see leaving the hook in and just breaking the line, will having you going to meeting ever day, while praying to God, you don't slip and loose your way. For Jesus died for us on the cross He gave His life so we wouldn't be lost. So you can turn to Lord Jesus when your life is in shambles or when somethings on you that you can't handle. So think before you do your next drug or take your next drink. STOP, take a good look because underneath, there lies a HOOK.
A Feeling So Fresh...
Ahh...! The streak of pain,
The rough floor
And the red stain.
How can I forget that agony?
They were five
And I was only.
They dragged me like a rucksack,
A feeling so fresh...
Not at all a Flashback...
The strong smell of alcohol,
The half burnt cigarettes
And their faces like a black coal.
I’s like a fish out of water
Repeatedly pleading
Like a stubborn beggar.
How could they listen?
Unlike humans
They were all demons.
Tightly, they tied me with a rope,
Not a movement possible
Breathing was only a left scope.
Unsuccessful to unwrap me,
They took a knife
And put cuts, one...two and three.
Echo of their laugh still agitates me,
The smell of their sweat
Is still chasing me...
One by one, they quench their thirst,
Good thing is that
They were fighting to be first.
They murdered my innocence,
Unbearable and brutally
Killing all my sense...
Leaving me, not less than a dead
Chained, in time coffin
Still trying to move ahead...
This is No Man's Land of fallen trees, and God-forsaken deadwood fill the landscape. I, the beast, am in my domain and feel no estrangement, cause I am right at home. She, so stunningly beautiful, is like a fish out of water; yet, she's right at home with me.
Only the fearless, unprotected, or a lost wandering hunter would ever end up here. It is a God-ordained nature-made hideout, and for me, that is the beauty of it all. I, the beast, am able to pause and rest, as I take a break from lurking prey.
They say that I am wild, but between my loving arms there lies a human beauty. We shared a most jolly day as the birds, bees, and other species stared from a distance. It was as if they read a sign, "private area, private time, don't disturb the two of us". She's so innocent and fast asleep, unafraid with worries none, and care free just like me.
So gently and tenderly, our warm blood flows the same through our veins, as our hearts beat as one. So call me wild if you may; but to my sleeping beauty, I'm her best friend. She loves and thinks the world of me; and I will never cease protecting her.
09162017PS Contest, Image Me A Poem, Mystic Rose
Picture choice: Lion and little girl
I know
Even if I have no evidence to prove it
I know
That I was never meant to be in this world!
I find not my place here
I like it not here
I am not comfortable here
I am not at ease here
I am, like a fish out of water
I am, like an angel fallen on Earth
I am, like a plantation of watercress in the desert
I am, like a stone having been given a heart!
The very fact that I took birth here
Broke my heart
The very fact that I fell from the divine abode
Shattered me to pieces
So much that I strive still to re-assemble my broken pieces
And walk, even if I drag my feet
Trying to motivate myself
To find joy and pleasure
In a world so aimless and confusing!
A world, where living is ruled by the cruel hands of Death!
But then, I thought I found love, once
I thought I would make of love my strength
I would hold its hand
Smile
And instead of walking
I would now enjoy the ride!
For, love would be a carriage
A carriage driven by my beloved
A carriage which would allow me to sit
And enjoy the passing sceneries of the paths I had to go through!
But love was made of ego
Of vice and selfishness
Love, instead of being a strength
Love, broke my heart again!
Why, love was just like a cannon ball
Which kept striking my most sensitive spot
Love, bid me to hate my life
And yearn for the skies once more!
Pray, I have learnt the lesson
I am to be, in this world, devoid of love
For I am not to be attached to anything here
I am, to get back to where I came from
I am to climb up the celestial stairs
And reach my home, my forsaken home!
Why, the power which forced me here
Is as broken hearted without me
As I am without it!
Pray, is love not beautiful
Is love not magical
When forgiveness and submission
Plays in its arena?
Pray, the skies unveiled themselves once
And bid me to an awakening
Since then, I have come to learn of myself
And of my temporary stay here
I have to understand
Why is it that I find not my place here
Pray, I may be broken hearted
But I am in the process of being healed
And the time shall come
When the gates of the skies will open
And immerse in me
Joy, of an eternal nature!
9th February 2017
For contest: You broke my heart
Hello Madam Butterfly, with the looks of being caught between a rock and a hard place. While you were being formed and before ever you were born, I
watched near by. I even observed you there all alone, never knowing how long it would be; but I waited for you.
I really like your style, your courage, your dedication, and can't wait for your exit. Yes, my dear, I have been eyeing you for days on end, looking forward to meeting you. Oh by the way, I am Mr. Bee, just one of many who know and understand hard work. I may be a horse of a different color, a different species, or to you, like a fish out of water. However, I know love when I see it, and I can feel it with you, as you struggle in your cocoon.
I was tempted to hasten your exit, but I knew better to leave you be, alone
and naturally. I have a vision of what you'll look like when you break forth; and you will be just stunning. You'll be strong and free like me, and your feathers will be a sight to see as you fly with me. Oh sweet Madam Butterfly, all the bees and butterflies will be forced to stop and stare.
We will be the first of our kind; most odd I'd say, but two of a kind to fall in love. Moreover, we will pay them no mind, because I took the time to wait for you to be truly mind.
10312017 PS Contest, Love Letter, Viv Wigley
Someone gently rolls me over
Onto this white slab, belly down
And I wait ... like forever
Or at least it seems like forever, anyway
Above me is a mirror,
So, I turn my head and strain to see it -
In seeing Runic inscriptions there on my backside,
I try to read them but can't ...
I can't interpret their meaning
Then, this drill of light
Comes and hovers over me.
I flip like a fish out of water
And I'm blinded out of my body
I can remember it now -
I fell into a deep
Strange awareness
That I was being abducted by aliens
Or was coming to in the middle of surgery
I was exposed, naked, and scared out of my wits -
That's when I began to write
And I haven't stopped since ...
I visited the Wailing Wall today. I think I visited on the wrong day. Today the rules were different than two days ago when I came here to pray and write poetry. Everyone was saying “Shabbat Shalom!” and they were all dressed up like they do back home on Sunday. Dressed in their finest clothes and high heels galore! Sequins and leather purses and not a hair out of place. Boy did I feel like a fish out of water!
Talk about an awkward moment! I just sat on the ground up against the wall like I did two days before. There was this lady running at me yelling at me, “No! No! Not on Shabbat Shalom!” She yelled at me and told me “No sitting on the ground!” I was floored. I am just an old protestant girl who read the rules as I entered in. I looked for a rule about sitting on the ground as this is how I prefer to write and pray to my Heavenly Father, but today something was different she said. She kept yelling at me in Hebrew and ushered me to the back of the area.
Then I proceeded to sit at a bench that had a small table. I picked up where I left off at. I began to close my eyes and pray and then write some prophetic words that I received from the Lord. Here she comes again! Then she was yelling at me again, “No writing! No writing! Not on Shabbat Shalom!” I couldn’t figure that rule out at all since there were all sorts of papers rolled up and twisted into the crevices of the wall. Hmmm…I was sincerely puzzled.
Approximately ten minutes after this ordeal I began to hear the Muslim call to pray behind the Wailing Wall. I asked the Lord to help the lady who was yelling at me. I asked the Lord to forgive me too if I seemed angry at her. I exited the Wailing Wall and kindly said to her, “I know you were just doing your job!” I also told her that I prayed for her while I was there too! Amen in Jesus’ name.
Gwendolen Rix
4-26-15
my generation
is in need of a desperation
a new kind
these days it’s not easy to find
an utter loss of hope
something from which you cannot cope
from which you can’t escape
where can you turn, when all your “heroes” throw down their capes?
desperation
like a fish out of water
choking on air
we breathe it everyday, but how much do we truly care
does it even matter?
can we even sense the urgency?
desperation
come on now wake up it’s an emergency
an utter loss of hope
if you could feel it, could you cope?
alone
and on your own
this desperation is a ravishing hunger
one we recognize when we can’t take it any longer
come wake up, open your eyes, can you now see the situation is dire
desperation
the kind we need in this generation
my generation, is in need of desperation
but hold on now, aren’t we the invicibles
young and full of life
nothing can touch us right
so we take off, we’re in flight
Oh we’re good,so good
we’re so good at at concealing all of our insecurities their almost invisible
behind this facade, lay our secret pains and strife
we’re really paperthin chameleons
a different color for everytime we feel threatened
fragile , at any sign of emotion
can’t you sense the desperation
a lost cause
devoured by desperation
blinded, by questions
where do we go from here?
overwhelmed by out mistakes, we’ve abandoned learned lessons
but it’s so clear
we can’t see it
blinded by our dreams, hopes, and fears
desperation
look behind all the fog of misinterpretation
lets get over what he said or she said
please open your eyes
desperation
and behold the beauty
desperation
now that you can see it clearly
drop your arms and defenses
and get past all false pretenses
be vulnerable
for there’s one who won’t drop in you in his arms
so be desperatley, desperate, in despartation
he’s the one who’s already bought the youth of this nation
so all you others beware cuz we aren’t the lost cause generation
so when you’ve lost all hope
and you just can’t seem to cope
when you’re on your own
and you feel alone
just know this
the desparation you feel
it’s the real deal
cause Christ can use your desperation
and turn it into a new hope, for a new generation
these days it’s not easy to find
a certian kind
a desperation
for my generation
Hiding in the cupboard, veins pumping full of blood
In the dark, between clothes
The smell of moth balls in his nose
Waiting in silence
He needs patience
As he replays his fantasy
Planning each move precisely
A key unlocks the front door
She has returned from the store
Unknowingly she locks herself in
With him, let the fun begin
He stays silent, waiting for his prey to relax
As he watches her through the cupboard cracks
She sings a song in her pretty voice
Unaware she is the killers’ choice
Overwhelming voices in his head
“Slice her up”, his God has said
So he follows the orders from above
Preparing to display his sick love
He believes he is doing her a favour
Saving her from the World, he’s her saviour
The touch of his knife will free her soul
From her tormented life, that is his goal
She enters the bathroom to wash her face
He moves from the cupboard with cat-like grace
Now she’s drying her face with a towel
He runs at her with a menacing howl
Thrashing violently, like a fish out of water
Gouging what she can to escape her slaughter
He tries to calm her as he says in her ear
“I’m here to help you, there’s nothing to fear”.
Confusion seeps into every corner of her mind
As the killer produces the glinting knife from behind
He runs his hands over smooth skin on her neck
Searching for the carotid, finding a pulse to check
The rapid beating gives him great excitement
As he slits her ear to ear in one quick movement
Her screams are silenced, her blood flows free
Her eyes glaze over...her soul is free.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
©copyright Juanita Torr
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
****For the "Sinister" poem competition 29/03/13
Generating a ring
of bright waters, which
currently meanders, ponders,
and then streams - twitch
ching reflexively as flora
and fauna lap rich
text chard liquid
timelessly streaming, rippling,
and quivering pitch
sure risk gully confidently
babbling, bobbing, bubbling,
burbling loch a king
dominating his rill small niche
wade ding in the wings,
one doth espy, (sans oxbow lake)
analogous to an err
river rent sea sunned bay sic
wide whirled, whetted, webbed itch
perhaps berthed as a cripple creek,
and/or survivor of a kill
ling, which ordinary
happenstance attempts
to anthropomorphize
life giving resource hitch
ching various synonyms for water,
where sustenance to biosphere
can become flushed out
vis a vis via an ecological glitch
which dry dystopian scenario,
within the realm
of human activities circumstance
leaving most animals plants awash
bay sic lee lurching,
gasping, and choking
within an immense oceanic ditch
availing an alien landscape
awash with post apocalyptic
desiccated global cribbage
match, where the losing hand
would be a real ,
thus summarily, punctiliously, and merrily
describes the edifying whirlpool
life sike kill
where countless marine species will flounder
(literally like a fish out of water)
viz deadened ghyll.