Best Tank Poems
What a lovely sight it is to see all the fish in there
Wonderful creatures swimming about everywhere
Large ones and small ones graceful as they move
They are swimming around with nothing to prove
The Hypostomus plecostomus adheres to the glass
Cleaning the tank not letting any algae pass
Colourful clashes of many tropical creatures
Blending in nicely with all the tanks features
Red tailed sharks, Angel fish and Guppies too
Relaxing to watch them and the things they do
Aquarium plants sway gently going with the flow
Bubbles full of air up to the top they go
A community of fish are living and survive
There are no real predators so they stay alive
Feeding and swimming in their own special way
Creating their own young so they will always stay
Ornamental coloured pebbles lay on the bottom
Plecky is still cleaning up so nothing goes rotten
How wonderful it is to see all the fish share
Every last bit of food and bubbles of air
Brilliant lighting and coloured bubbles rise
They feed from the food a sprinkled surprise
Characters abundant each fish has its own
From a tiny fish fry oh how they have grown
Cascade of colors swirls in a fishy maze,
a tank of topicals swim the watery haze;
as a plastic diver opens his treasure,
what's inside is strictly his pleasure.
Tetra's dream of tasty bites
Swordtails dine to their delight;
albino Catfish sweeps the gravel,
as bright corals do bedazzle.
As bright guppies wiggle, wriggle
and Goldfish's fins flow in a jiggle;
a black Molly races by the snails,
as a tiny crab scurries up the ship's sail.
It's a color-wonderland behind the glass;
flowing in and out of the guppy grass.
bright eyes swinging tail
spirit inside as a whale
all the feels gray gills
I placed a fish into a tank.
Would it float or would it sank?
A fish has its own volition -
each one on a separate mission.
Some will to the bottom, drop.
Others will rise up to the top.
Thanks to that Man
whose heart reflects the sweetness of music
who sings to the lullaby of my waking tout's
whose melody comforts the crying heart
with wants
Thanks to Him
whose voice sings to the merging hearts of Love
Thanks to that sweetness
that combines slow melody with words
Thanks to that special Him
in whose arms my searching heart beams!
© Tina O Chimma
Fish tank universe
Here we all are
Planets and galaxies
Solar systems
Stars in this infinite jar
So big we can’t travel it all
Tinted glass no one can see out
People watching us like God
What we have been told is that a bigger
Power controls us
We can’t see it
Even though we sure do try to
This being is who puts us in our lives
This fish tank is not measurable
But the world outside is unthinkable
We can try to pray and communicate to
the outside world
But like a fish no one can understand
We might enter this outside world after
our adventure here comes to an end
But we can’t communicate to each other
The people in the outside world
Knew a young fellow named Frank
Pretty girls always turned Frank's crank
One day his crank broke
Choked up as he spoke
Sputtered, “still got stuff in my tank”!!!
© Jack Ellison 2015
how the turkey I asked
a country of told you so
the moon beautiful for the fill gas oil
akimbo a foot on both asia and oops we gone the fall on both knee
the kid across said thank you for the eggs from fifty hens up state laid for you
moist you ask me the oven and the rest
no no all a fry and two wings I fly the coop of sky a sunset
a long weekend **** a take back my legs and the cat left behind
my ass can not take much longer on earth
know it is difficult to read the write of raised the bar
all clean I left you the right of buy the black friday
all dishes a clean to figure where she going
tip top a tic tac of smoke did you see the moon
I can a can of cancan tell you you the lies in latin
D C or P D she pedals the child the moon tomorrow not to be seen
sincere she tell you stories out of her mind watch your step never cross her
a total massacre never for the massage of spa
she is so crazy we love her hare not a rabbit scurry in her hole
Ted Weymouth rang me up to see, if I could do a job he had…
‘His trucks broken down’ he said, so I told Ted ‘I’d be glad
to do a favour for a mate’, he said. ‘It’s ‘Grubby’ Alcorn’s place.
A load of posts!’ Lord I’ve been had…‘Grubby’s’ a real hard case.
‘Grubby’ lived out in the ‘back-blocks’, where the roads are bloody rough,
Ted had ‘conned’ this job for me to do, where I heard one trips enough.
It took me bloody hours. I reckon Ted’s enjoying this with mirth.
I broke a spring and so the trip, cost more than the job was worth.
We threw the posts off near a shed, from there ‘twas my desire,
to get to buggery out of here… I asked ‘Grub’ for some fencing wire
to wind ‘round the spring to hold it tight, praying to God it might
hold everything together, until I got home that night.
“Come inside and have a drink”, ‘Grubby’ beckoned ‘cross to me.
I looked him up and down then thought, ‘I don’t like what I see’.
‘Grubby’ looked like he had wallowed, with pigs beside their sties...
When I walked inside I’ve got to say, I got one ‘heck’ of a surprise.
Every dish was washed and packed away. The sink was spotless clean,
each cup hung upon their little hook, glasses sparkled with a sheen.
Flowers ‘Grubby’ picked stood in a vase, on a table-cloth embodied gold.
‘Grubby’ asked me if I wanted tea, or would I like something cold.
I felt much more at ease now, in this clean environment,
it seemed like chalk to cheese, from outside when I had spent
an hour’s work with ‘Grubby’, so I said, “I think you ‘oughta’
pour me out a nice cold drink of lemon cordial and water.”
I took a swig and puckered; the lemon tasted kind of *****.
My drink really wasn’t pleasant, more like a bad home beer.
Must be just my taste buds because the weathers fairly hot,
so I upended quick the ten ounce pot and drank the flamin’ lot.
I said to ‘Grubby’ “That’s average, I’ve not had cordial like that before.
Or could it be your water mate; do you pump it from a bore?”
“Nar” said ‘Grub’ “the water’s fine now, though a week ago was rank.
The taste is getting better since… I dragged the possum from the tank.”
Tim went to the Bovington Tank Festival...
baking in hot sun
spud boy wargasms like blitzkrieg
contemplating tanks
injustice of war ice cream
chocolate shrapnel sprinkled
Sunlight feathers dance
through sparkling sequined arms
amusing the Blue
1.
The cold touch of steel masonry
it's violent barrage of iron shell
and the crashing thunder with raining shrapnel
2.
The rain, the mud, and bloody terrain
swiftly it crashes through the enemy lines
with it, a swarm of bayonets and steel helmets
3.
Piles of broken bone and empty artillery
raging inferno's and gray smog
bloody bodies and a white flag
girl points at ocean
no oxygen steals her joy
so clearly she breathes
Sometimes we see a glint of gold or red
emitted sudden as a warning through
the greening water of the old square tank outside,
an evanescent wink from just beneath
the awning of the lolling lily pad.
Within this viridescent bulk of water pushing
against the stark and square formality of fibreglass,
the teasing crimson twinkle
frees our eyes from what had become
the prison of their gaze in which they were held
unblinking by the flat rigidity
of unremitting quadrilateral form.
Once more a gleam of carmine charms our eyes
into the still, green patina of this exotic liquor –
another world, so far removed
from our dull logic of normality.
Jumping in head first.
Mighty tiger in my tank.
Eyes closed determined.