Goodnight Fish

At sea and at bay, we sit and we stay

We pull out our line and hook the bait, we open the cooler and we sit and we wait

A simple pull on the line would make us aware that the fish are biting instead of just browsing what’s there

A slight little jiggle in the line makes us jump, we reel it in hoping it’s not a stump

Another hopeful moment but not what we thought, so we cast the line askew and try to find something to brag about being caught

The day grows darker and we must pull in, after all fishing is patience and we don’t always win

We will come back to the same place next week hoping to catch something worthwhile, that we are willing to keep

Goodnight Fish

Angling for Some Tangling – Poem for Hour 3

Cast a line and see where it falls,

Because it’s the unknown that really enthrals

You – admit it,

You don’t want a’ hook, line and sinker’ –

You want more of a freethinker

So you’ll need the right bait –

You’ll need to create

The thrill of the chase,

An unsolved case

For her to investigate,

So she’ll reciprocate

With grace.

But don’t spin her a line,

Because it’s only a very fine

One between playing games

And causing untold pains,

And once you’ve caught her

She’ll lose all appeal,

And you’ll be back to reel

Another one in,

Promising safety from sharks with hidden fins

Offering acceptance of all of their sins,

Then using them like needles and pins

To pierce the surface and damage what’s within.

(c) Gemma Hinton 13/06/15

 

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#4

Morning love

sun rays glow

nature awakens

birds sing

chipmunks scamper

looking for seeds and bugs

yum to some.

Gone Fishing (Prompt 3)

be patient

it will come

they always do

flex your rod

when it weighs down and bends don’t lose it

they are not ignoring you

believe me

it seems like it but don’t let go

smiles and sun hats greet conversations

as we pull out previously packed lunches

waiting until we catch the next one

and I catch my first

 

2015 poetry marathon poem #3 spawning season

It’s spawning season
You baited your hook carefully
They come into the shallows to spawn
What about the mommy fishes?
I worried
You won’t be catching mommy fishes
will you?
No mommy fishes, you reassured me

Even as you cut
into the glistening bellies
scraping the crystalline beads
of life into the water below
Even as you laughed at me

Even then, only weeks
into what would become love
marriage separation love again
two sons and a life together

you protected me
filtered my reality
through the lens
of your affection
Traded reality
for what might comfort

Poem3/24 “The Fisherman”

My father’s friend named Mike is a fisherman

He used to go to the sea early morning

When everyone still snoring and sleeping

He will escaped and slowly walk and run

After how many hours, before lunch 

He will come home holding his bunch

Full of fish, big and small

Different colors, different kinds, different sizes

My friend Michael and I will clean the fishes

Some for cooking

Some for giving 

Some for selling

My friend used to go to the market during afternoon

To sell the fish, his father’s caught

When he sold, he will come home with money

He will give it to his parents

And save some for his schooling

His father said: “fishing is not easy

You have to be patient 

Pray that you might catch

Fishes knows whose net they are going

Fishes knows who are needy

As I pray to God, I pray to fish to come”

If I will not go fishing, my family will suffer

My son will stop studying

I don’t want to see that, he is our one and only child

My family will be hungry

I dont want to see them suffered, he added.

Fishing is not only a job but it is a dedication to God, I said.

Yes!its true his father said. Fishing is about a choice

It is about choosing the most and best for you and your family

And fishing is all about love

If you love God

He will give you the best more than you ask for, wait patiently

Fishing is the foundation of this family

My wife’s family is rich. Yet, she still chose me, she said:

“we will surpass as long as we stay, still and keep fishing,

And be a fisherman to God”

We can be richer than my family, he added.

Fishing is loving those people around

Not by catching quickly proud

But to wait patiently love

The best catch will come from God

Fishing

Compliments hang, speared
On subtly barbed comments,
Disguising deadly intent.

Weave between the lines,
Better to be a cold fish
Than a terrible warning


Prompt: Fishing
Form: Sedoka

Self-Doubt

Why is this? Where does all this doubt creep in?
I want to write for the sheer joy in it
Don’t want to write deep for the hurt it brings in me
The g-police are sure to get me
I compare and then I’m mad at me
Other people don’t see what I see
Other people don’t think like I think
Their poems are beautiful,
Deep, and full of visual
They inspire and they tire me
I have to keep on telling me
I do this for the joy it brings
That’s why I do anything
For the joy it brings
I’m deaf to my critics now
I don’t write for them any how.
I do this for the joy it brings.
That’s why I do any thing.