Best Trawling Poems
He meandered lonely
just a senior citizen
trawling the pathways of his computer,
when suddenly one day in a flash
an enchanting name jumped from the screen
into his unadjusted head,
whilst still in a daze
he had cut copied and pasted,
the delete key not an option
when sent to his favourites.
Then like magic, poetry began to appear
every single day a new poem would emerge
all written in a familiar dialect,
to begin with down to earth
raw unadulterated poetry
the kind that attaches itself to one’s mind
bores in to the head, rattles around
then lays awhile
then keeps coming on back, over and over again.
Poetry that penetrates, like an arrow,
pierces the heart, tends to linger
deep in one’s consciousness
disarming the most vehement of thought,
poetry that creates calmness
making one at ease, especially one
old with age and recipient of an endowment of excruciating pain!
Soon the poetry began to blossom
as all creations do
in the springtime of their lives,
the purity of Wild flowers, colours of the rainbow
free to sway within the gentle breeze,
soon each daily dose of verse begins to transpire
into carpets of lavender
upon the woodland stage, cascading Bluebells of joy,
the epitome of beauty unfolding
before one’s very eyes.
Again the poetry continues to consolidate,
poems of form formularized those conceived of
the Peace Lillie so sensuous in shape
so assuring in grace, a hard life the Lillie endures
yet one, only of positivity etched into each stanza
of bold narration for all to peruse!
Then a transformation
to the Rose, the very sense of beauty,
when with words of wrought
thy language comforting long into the night
to ease each day a journey of plight,
yet for you sweet Rose
thy poetry, it is not at an end
when to the Orchid you graciously ascend!
Many are those that come and admire
the wonders of your beauty those words on fire,
yet some desire more
with cunning and subtlety
those to manipulate to control
for one’s own ends.
But the Orchid remains safe
suffers no fool,
nurtured in extreme climates
is strong and worldly wise,
the poetry just keeps on coming,
flowing like tears of joy,
from an eye of one who’s happiness
is assured every single day!
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Computer catfish anglers
Are out phising every second, day and night
Trawling the world wide web with baited hook
For innocent victims to catch
Internet sites such as Facebook and Twitter
Supply them with constant schools of fish
How easily they reel in trusting people with their deception
Can you be one hundred percent certain
A person behind the computer screen is for real?
Trolls don’t live under the bridge like in fairy tales
Fake profiles, false pictures and fraudulent names
Intended to disguise who they really are
Sadly some victims of their abuse resort to suicide
Hope these evil ‘catfish’ get caught and end up in court
Catfish Contest
Sponsored by Catie Lindsey
5/30/18
‘My biological clock
is upside down,
fifty years and more of night shift,
so, the experts tell us
will decay one’s memory over time.’
To remember the innocence of youth
from out of these eight decades of mine,
trawling each day within crystal memories
some days those of montage to piece together
others full and complete, shallow also deep.
So many days within images of islands surrounded by blue skies
some where waves of rogue clouds bearing rainbows of colour
crash against walls of submission and resistance,
when life the teacher became the truth to survival.
So sad are these days for our descendants
where childhood removed and the race
to enhance artificial intelligence
brews in one’s veins.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
A mackerel sky fillets the village
then hides it in a breezeless blear.
Heads poke out of net drapes
sniff and fish behind trawling curtains.
Shopkeepers brace for
wet dog splatter and spray
for slopping boots and salty puddles.
On the sightless sea
far beyond the shore and shingle,
lost fog horns are lowing deep
like colicky cattle.
Later, misty reeks will be scoured
from groggy docks.
Hauling hands will rope together
tide-tossed tubs,
then tired feet trudge to taprooms
where the brackish parts
of codgers and young alike
can be oiled and quenched.
Unified beneath the dome of star studded sky,
man lies starring at stars fixed or falling.
We wonder who has tossed these gems aside.
Most singular He who has let these fly
toward unknown destinations calling,
unified beneath the dome of star studded sky.
From California's forest gazers cry
with ahh's and ohh's as they lie sprawling,
we wonder who has tossed these gems aside.
Shooting star have bewitched fair Holland's sky
and danced to drums in Africa brawling,
unified beneath the dome of star studded sky
From mighty Perseus they oft seem to fly
like fishermen we sit, glow lights trawling,
we wonder who has tossed these gems aside.
That the heaven rains for all, none can deny
a gift of bold beauty mankind's calling.
Unified beneath the dome of star studded sky
we wonder who has tossed these gems aside.
The internet is like a ball
Should be passed on to other people
An understanding, my little son shared
Ideal speed most of us desired
Trawling through the internet
Always chasing ideal time to connect
Trapped and engrossed into the network
Manacling idiosyncrasies making them to shirk
Living outside your home country
The Internet is the passageway to your family
It made lives into simpler ones
You need to pay for a better connection
How our senses are altered
Even our thinking was bothered
Time and space that are apart
Uninspired if unable to reach your counterpart
Dark side of the internet
Time quickly runs out and we forget
To socialize with others and feel the real world
As virtual image tried to evolve
September 22, 2015
The harbour rests from the rolling waves
Of a windswept and tempestuous sea
Beyond the breakwater lay sailors graves
Where shipwrecks in eternal sleep rest free
Once lured upon the rocks they didn’t see
Now ghosts of sailors take their endless rest
With sirens haunting cries, their bemoaning plea
Heard in the wind and the waves foaming crest
Yachts now moored, as their owners misbehaves
In dim lit cabins with lovers on their knee
Pink gin’s at sunset and acting like knaves
While jealous husbands spy hiding on the quay
And lovers sit on their boats drinking Chablis
Other yachts sit forlorn not looking their best
Their days spent at sea, with the call of the siren’s banshee
Heard in the wind and the waves foaming crest
Fishing boats chug past, their crew now waves
At those waiting for their catch with impish glee
On the quayside, fish, their customers now craves
And the fee for their catch they readily agree
Then having a meal completely buckshee
The fishermen go home for a well-earned rest
No more trawling, hearing sirens or wailing kelpie
Heard in the wind and the waves foaming crest
Life in the harbour for some is all but carefree
Yet for others it may not be so heaven blest
As they sail troubled seas where sirens can be
Heard in the wind and the waves foaming crest
I was trawling the internet yesterday and came
across the Love Poem Generator
I thought, disgusted, you can’t generate a love poem
it’s like having sex and calling it generating a baby
you’re taking all the passion out of it.
Look at how humans have treated planet Earth:
its lush mountains stripped of centuries-old trees;
oblivious to their value over worth.
We're not filled with feelings of guilt or unease;
preservation is the last thing on our minds.
We claim the right to do whatever we please.
Mining minerals leaves open sores behind,
gaping gashes, cut without a thought or care;
then abandoned once we took all we could find.
We've scarred the ocean bottom, trawling for fish,
and dumped raw sewage into the sea for years;
unconcerned for Gaia, we do what we wish.
We've failed to attend to Mother Nature's tears,
and it will be too late once Man disappears.
Dams, mining, extraction and fracking!
Logging, trawling, oops this urban expansion!
Plastic, toxic sludge and fertilisers,
Industrial revolution, Mass production!
Rising pollution and depleting fossil fuel.
Expanding population, you greedy humans!
Squeezing nature and melting glaciers
Chocking gases creating Climate conundrum.
Speeding extinction, your helpless restrictions.
Destructing ozone layers, eroding my very foundations!
The earth in pain whispers to me:
Why are you causing this depredation?
Look at my dereliction!
Please stop this destruction.
WHISPER TO ME Ii CONTEST
Sponsored by: Regina Riddle
Date: 14th June; 2020
There is no space between the
horizon and the ocean
Birds follow boats in a lazy
circular motion
It is a lazy hazy Saturday
afternoon
Topped by a peeping
premature quarter moon
Idle fishermen sit and curse
their fate
The striper run is getting
precariously late
Boats chug back and forth in
search of signs
Willing fish to hook up with
trawling lines
Here I stand, full of expectation;
With a rose-tinted perception of love;
Trawling life for a small slice of heaven;
For my sweetest seraph, sent from above.
Will I find her waiting; bathed in moonlight?
Or kissed by the tender rays of the sun?
Blatantly standing on a street corner?
Or hiding in darkness until I come?
Does she yearn for me as I yearn for her?
Envisage me in her soft, blissful sleep;
Stealing her away from all life's heartaches;
And taking her hand and her heart, to keep?
For now I can only ponder answers;
Let my heart spell her name in my writing;
Beg the gods to throw her into my path
and that day she hits my heart; lightening.
How I cherish this time of the day,
When my lover passes by. That gleam in her eye,
Letting me know, her intention is true,
And now it is time to play.
Like smoke she lingers before me,
With a single pass. Her innocent essence. I gasp,
Trawling her night shadow behind,
She encapsulates me.
Transcending into her watery depth,
From heel to toe, bended knee to divine luxury,
Encapsulating her majestic body within,
I submit, gently washing her silk cortex.
Emerging from heated pool, she begins to sway,
I surge & break fall. We land ourselves, upon cold wall,
Our eyes never depart from each other,
Her cheeky grin implies I must stay.
She grasps hold during our slow rise,
My shoulders clench taut, thighs clasp tight in embrace,
Her feet heave up from the ground,
I vow never to release her firm vice.
Together we dance as one,
Biting kiss upon neck, she wraps arms, we've begun,
My girth ruptures as she is splayed astride,
Silently she moans, "...Make love to me Hun."
I gently place her up & away,
Upon leather-clad pad, strapped to chains, haven above,
I release her to caress, loves motion applies the rest,
I whisper "...Sway Baby, Sway".
Hair thrown back upon breeze,
Lover's delight, steam rising upon sight,
Upon departure & re-entry, she continues to glisten,
Her first luxury comes with ease.
I raise my jilted lover's head,
Forsaken she submits to my hunger & intent,
I cast & expose my maiden down,
Caressing her wounds upon bed.
I am now captured by my own prey,
Arched back, penetrated and interlocked by firm thigh,
She motions to submerge my soul deep within,
Together we sing lullaby.
"...Sway baby, Sway".
(C) 2015 PJ Bayliss
„Per me si va nella città dolente…”
Dante Alighieri
You haven’t forgotten
you won’t forget…
In ices is swelling
the river again and trawling
roots and weeds,
and foam.
It leaves the shores bent,
mirrors,
swamps and frost.
But on the day
it kindles a glow.
With movements
spiral of
the hands,
I’m folding the air
after the beasts –
to that one threshold
(what does it say
no, I don’t know.
And the death ones leave.
The sandy beach
thins into a wash of rounded pebbles
where the tide licks,
before that a muddy ribbon
trickles briny trinkets surged up
from the oceans bottom.
Here be the bones of tiny seahorse dragons,
and bloated macroscopic marine algae,
their seaweed green strands inflated
until the sun bakes
their pale upturned pods into pyrite beads.
Fractured mollusk shells splinter the broken claws
of minuscule crustaceans -
all the natural flotsam of debris trawling waves.
A sculptured driftwood expressed into mythic forms
anchors its art where the wind combs.
Sometimes coins, both new and old, surface
to be pocketed once more.
Obscure metallic treasures knuckle
and poke-mark the shoreside
with their unanswered questions.
I have no questions, walking the dawn light
I am a shipwreck, my mind roaming
along the shores edge.
My heart a seagulls cry, a wilderness call
that keeps me fishing for new depths
of a fathomless self.