Bluegill Poems | Examples

Morning at Lake Red Haw

choppy and cold river, white foam is gathering as if it has been in a blender
there is no sound this morning, no bird speak, no crickets, it is silent
I dipped my hand into the water, it was freezing like a frozen halibut.
A peanut butter cup made its way to my mouth, I tasted salt and chocolate
I could smell fish this morning, a dead bass or bluegill, most probably.

Muskrats Attitude Makes Us Happy

Miss Maddie Muskrat mastered Missouri mud
Reveling and rolling in it in a joyful way
Catfish groused that she was mucking up the river
Bass, bluegill and crappie told catfish off

Muskrat makes us happy with her positive attitude
Catfish had never thought about that side of it
He adjusted his attitude and began enjoying her mud antics
They became happy friends after that, thanks to this lecture

Vintage Vine

Seven and one, open gates!
Zero, cancel wild!
He who suffers, first berates!
Listen, auld to child!

Errors of the prophets?
By necessity, none.
Perfect record, get the fits?
Oracle, scion, pun?

Ergo, O my time and space!
As above, below!
Meteor, dark fire, displace.
Broken, O my bow...

Dread, thy bed. Bend back, bring. Born.
Death, thy sacred sand.
Dagger, axe, hell, heaven, horn.
Doom within all, planned...

Falcon, fix sight fast on fate.
Coals of wrong to burn.
Sight of silver haze, my krait?
Venom, how you churn.

Furious the strait? Hate? Why?
Out and holding on?
River, bluegill, is a-sly!
Sea-bass, take the pawn!

Tallest mountain, reply? Well...
Think on that awhile.
Hope, accrue? Cast well thy spell:
Quill, seek. Gentle, guile.

Vine, grow o'er. Hinterland, seethe.
Break on cliff, vast wave.
He who bereaved last did breathe.
Others, foot in grave.

Water lillies and blue gill

Dip your head to the water
and whisper your afflictions.

And allow the gravel banks
and suckling roots
to know your secrets.

And allow the water lilies
and bluegill
to know of your longings.

And the water lilies
and the bluegill
will speak to you their comfort,
and they will speak of pain as the ultimate truth,
and they will speak of joy as the great rebellion.

But their sounds will not reach you—
for the current is too strong,
and the gravel banks
and suckling roots
will remain still and unwavering.

And the world will come,
whispering its ruthful nature,
and you will sit and wonder:
What the water lilies and the bluegill had to say.

Waupaca Awakens

‘Waupaca Awakens’

The thin ice cracks
As daylight breaks,
Along the still waters
Of a chain of lakes

Melting snow and slush
Both lapping the pier,
Letting the bluegill know
A new season is near

North of the place
The first sound is heard,
A sign of change is ...
The red-winged blackbird

Their call from the birch
Is melodic and shrill,
Carried on the winds
Of winter's last chill

Leaves of the maple
Needles of the pine,
Rustle in the breeze
Shiver down their spine

Timid, black bear cubs
And white-tailed fawns,
Welcome one of many
Warm, springtime dawns

Mallards in the distance
Returning geese overhead,
Spotted calves yawning
In their fenced in bed

Much seasonal beauty
One small town did regain,
All of Waupaca awakens
From meadow to Main.



(4/4/24)


2nd Place 

"Waupaca Awakens with Poetry" Poetry Contest 

waupacaarts.org/waupaca-poetry-contest-winners-1

(Just a note for those who may not know ... Waupaca is a small town in the state of Wisconsin, not far from where I live. Their annual poetry contest was held recently and I placed 2nd with this poem ... )

king oskar sardiner

A Brisling (King Oscar sardines)

I opened a tin of sardines in olive oil for supper
Headless and nicely packed, except for one
that had a head and was alive.
I put the live one in a glass jar; the others looked
so dead I could not eat them, put the tin back 
into the fridge
My little King Oscar sardine grew and was too
big for a jar, I had fed it bread crumbs,
 real home
baked with butter.
Suddenly, there were many cats in the yard the adventurous cats  tried to find an open window
I took my sardine to an empty lake.
the lake had once been full of bluegill, but overfished
to extinction, I sat my sardine free to feed on rotten
vegetations
I don't know how fish procreate, but soon there were
too many of them, a school of silvery beings
swimming around except for one going the opposite way
Bonanza!
Grilled sardines and red wine, people rejoiced, thought
this was going to last forever until there were non
except for my sardine, now so big it scared cats
when it saw me, it was so happy, jumped out of the water
caught by a passing eagle
Empty lake, a dead eye in the wilderness, tells no story

fishermans daughter

the fishing pole is ready
my victims are as good as in my mouth
her little mind was heady
on her way, she turned down south

the birdies chirped throughout the dale
April approaching made March less grim.
Night crawlers were singing in their pail
Not knowing what was in store for them.

the fishing pole was plunked into the water.
Bass and bluegill fought over the worms.
A terrific day for a fisherman’s daughter.
Enough lunch for six pachyderms.

Fishing With Dussley

You have never experienced fishing until you’ve fished from a dragon.
As far as I am concerned after this experience, no other seat will do.
Dussley, my dragon, entered the lake without making a sound.
I enjoyed the serenity of the lake so translucent and blue.

We sat in silence, enjoying the quietude of the mystical realm.
There were no bullfrogs here, and damselflies do not make noise.
Dussley was as still as the forest trees that surrounded this water hole.
A catfish jumped out of the water, showing off his whole body.

I figured he would be tasty eating, but difficult to catch.
Some of the savvy fish like to tease us fisher faeries.
A bluegill glided past my dragon’s claw; Dussley did not move.
He is the best fishing partner I will ever have, he is the berries!

Riding a Bluegill

Oh, amazing bluegill mushroom hunting gnome,
Sauntering through coral’s lifeblood, all on his own
Easing his way into the den of the fishmongers’ bit
Riding a bluegill as if his pirate lifestyle depends on it
And maybe it does, his ocean seaworthy life anyway
He slides through life merrily, hauling kelp out of his way
We watch him glide through dangerous layers of the deep
He rides  a fish of beauty and strength, a steed to keep.

Floating Ashes

As I gazed out over the slow-flowing creek
Suppressing the agony of losing my child
Tears never fail to spill down my cheeks
As I have repeated this ritual for a while

Making these pilgrimages to this waterway
While I stood on this same slick, muddy bank
I enjoy observing the bluegill and catfish play
Paying their respect. For that, I owe thanks

An army swims back and forth in formation
Alerting the water inhabitants as they often do
Like synchronized swimmers without expression
The fish will come if they think you have food

It's been a year since I freed his charred remains
All that is left of his countenance is this powder
It’s hard to comprehend or for my mind to contain
As I visit my only child's ashes in these waters

The Jolly Fisherman

My little girl, you are a jolly fisherman
Catching those fish as only you can
With your bamboo pole and tiny hook
That bluegill your worm for food mistook
Now with your heart bigger than that
You throw it back in with a big ol’ splat!

SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written August 20, 2022
Submitted to “The Jolly Fisherman” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward

Insects One Two and Three

insects one two and three
a dietary substance for a megabat, me.
slurp slurp slurp
yum yum yum!
one thousand mosquitoes in my tummy tum tum

Watch out catfish, bass and bluegill. 
Dive down quickly, and be really still. 
My cousin bulldog bat is on the hunt.
He will snatch fish out of the lake.
Hide yourself for goodness sake!

Starfish-

'Starfish!' said I, 'thing of a moray eel.'
Be it black ocean space;
Or in the breathing coral seas;

Back into my memories squiding;
To warn me about the sea turtle;
The cetacean coral reef crabbing;
Sharks and piranhas kidnapping;

I heard a tentacled, seagoing inking;
I wrote a story with the octopus pen;
I was a harbour porpoise and you a tuna sandwich;
The brokered bottlenose whale blossoming;

The sphinx moth singeing;
Only this and a sturgeon;
In there stepped a shovel nose 'whale shark';
In there stepped a 'lake trout.';
Dolphins lookout;

To warn me about the bluefin;
The foul flatfish forging;
All my soul within me gorging;
In there stepped a coral sea cucumber;

I have dreamed of the spadefish;
An echo murmured back the word, 'channel catfish!'; 
The brook trout smiled;
I felt compelled to sniff the squid;
Smells like fish;

It was squish;
Take thy bluegill from out my heart;

Embrace the wish;
Starfish





6/20/20
WRITTEN WORDS BY James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©

Weathered Breakfast-

terrifying synopsis,
pink and purple rhinoceros,
bluegill and Gail winds...

blowing

wild winds and rains saturate the home panes

Weathered Breakfast

invisible questions,
plural and singular,
Raisin Brand™ cereal

eaten

there is a storm brewing in the jungle
and all the little monkey's are eating banana's with breakfast


Weathered Breakfast



2/5/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©

Ideas Came In Hard and Fast

Ideas came in hard. They came in fast.
They opened my dream, and gave me a blast.
Big Bluegill laughed, and sent me quickly home
In my day state, to write a gentle poem.

Few original ideas now, for they did not come in slow.
I remember some of the amazing end lines, but not in a row.
I could not see the clock, when my sleepy eyes fluttered.
What time is it, Alexa? I wondered and muttered.

“It is one oh two, a.m.,” she sang out bright and clear.
The prettiest voice, she is always ready and near.
We have an Alexa or an Amazon in every single room. 
She is great company for you, tells jokes, but let us resume.

The insistent wake-up poem in my head, the one that woke me up….
Where did it go? Who has it? Will it be THE poem, Finn name of Huck?
And will another author get the credit? Maybe they should.  
Was it ever really mine? And frankly, was it even that good?

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