Long Bluegill Poems
Long Bluegill Poems. Below are the most popular long Bluegill by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bluegill poems by poem length and keyword.
is littered with garnets and blackberries
It hasn’t rained enough in weeks
The ground is hard, hot, and unyielding
The bass and bluegill in smaller ponds
float to the surface
The water is rank with the smell of fish
I was never privileged
to experience the stages of mourning
when the staples of my sea
floated up
I’m grateful for the toughness
Clean water is inaccessible
to most,
the rest take water
for granted
Everything is borrowed time
“I’ve been passing time
watching trains go by,
all of my life”
You are still the rails,
the unflinching direction
of my life
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?
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!
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
'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©
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.
“Now Ben,
if you are going to be in front
you have to keep an even rhythm!
None of that spastic, erratic
slapping of the water,
and stop banging my paddle!”
“Words of wisdom Ben:
in life you keep it smooth,
keep chatter to a minimum,
and you’ll travel the water
in style”
This is going to be a long trip
but luckily, it’s a small lake
“Stop talking so I can ID some birds!”
“Caw-caw! Caw-caw!”
“Ben!”
“Look mom!
Bluegill!
Get closer so I can pick
that white flower”
“Is there something on my back?
Mom, do you see something red?”
“No. I analyzed closely”
“I love being analyzed
closely”
I start laughing hysterically
and almost turn us over
No boats on Lake Lure
but a few lazy pontoons
at 9am
A playful brant swam on the pollen-dabbed lake.
A dipper perched on a dog-wood tree so dazzling and aromatic,
he neither decided to stay nor go although his companions were gone;
he had a white head and gray wings feeling a bit too romantic...
seeking through green branches a lonely warbler hidden in a cosy place,
and there he hoped to confide his dreams while he turned artistic.
A restless bittens
searched the tall, sun-dried reeds
of a river not so calm...
did she find some food like bluegill,
not to make her stomach growl?
She kept on searching 'till dusk!
A tawhee snoozed on the smallest spruce...
waiting for the evening to fall.
Written by Andrew Crisci
for Constance La France's contest,
" For ( Four ) Beautiful Birds "
May 12, 2011
‘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 ... )