24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Cool and calm,
just floating along.
Living effortlessly,
you envy me?
My arms flow with the tide.
I’m just along for the ride,
waving like a tree in the wind.
Underground, below the sea,
anchored for eternity.
I am seagrass.
post for hour 1
Catfish strung on lines tied to the dock.
Whiskers wiggling, tails flapping, struggling to get free.
Among them, the grand prize: the Mammoth Cat
He doesn’t struggle
Just lies in wait
Plotting.
Too much sun, too much beer
To even exaggerate the size
But he was like the Loch ness of the Lake.
Skin burning, stomachs growling, greeting the next morning with a fog of sobriety
Anticipating a breakfast of fish and eggs
Mammoth Cat was nowhere to be seen.
He had escaped
A
Much
Smarter
Fish.
Some people go fishing,
Others fish every day…
The former group fish for cyprinids,
The latter fish for compliments…
© 2015 Antoinette LeRoux
Each day you cast your net
Put out your carefully baited hooks
Waiting patiently for signs that confirm your reality,
Your control of the world
Some days your boat is full
Others,
you drift,
wondering where the catch is.
Always, when I am driving
through the territories
when dusk descends
I see them.
Void of artificial lights
bold flashes of white figures
in the ancient darkness
sentry the highway.
Communication of souls
direction and guidance
the movement on my periphery
tells me I am not alone.
Let patience have its perfect work.
And so it is with the sport of fishing.
Man versus animal – a game of wits.
The bigger the catch yields all the accolades and glitz.
Curse you fish fillet! How I wish I didn’t love you so.
How you were seduced and harvested, I’d rather not know.
A casted line and hooked wiggle worm, ready to pierce your mouth and watch you squirm.
Don’t fall for it Nemo, it’s a trap! Haven’t you seen this before?
Dori was lunch last week and you’re just the snack they’re looking for.
Lord, please make me a vegan as fast as you can.
I’d so rather be a fisher of men.
Poem Three for the Hour Three
my father was a fisherman
he had his fishing tackles
kept at the backyard store room
i loved the fresh catch
freshwater fish, prawns and shells
i would asked him
why he needed to fish
his answer was, ”i love your mom”
i always wondered why he told me that
it was like a deathless joy in his heart
i have learned Ichthyology
and still a mystery for me
where do fishes came from
what would be like if there are no fishes
in the ocean, lakes, and rivers
i was in grade five
when my father died
i told myself i don’t like ”fishtalk”
two decades and seven
i have learned to fish
at the Steveston Waterfront
it reminds me of the one who loved my mom
until i loved to fish and yes fish loved me too
i love cooking, i love serving
and tell my friends bon appetit
it’s unfleeting words of wisdom
why good catch
is like my father’s love
to someone’s best
he fished with all his love
( my fishing memories at Steveston Waterfront, Steveston, British Columbia)
Red, vibrant
In the beginning there was energy.
Or so the scientists would have us think.
It’s still around, in everything,
moving back and forth, up and down,
in circles and patterns.
Vibrating eternal life.
Flowing through you,
as the colour of your blood
matches that of my lips.
Orange, creativity
In the beginning there was creation.
Whether by external force,
or by itself –
that may be debatable.
Recreating nature’s beauty,
now that’s a challenge for life.
Yellow, wisdom
Wise men and women
are often portrayed
with grey hair.
And yet, wisdom is not
necessarily related to
age, hair or teeth.
Green, nature
Green is the colour
of all things good
and safe
and friendly.
And yet you will
throw out your cheese
when it turns green,
no matter how
natural that is.
Blue, divinity
If blue means divinity,
would feeling blue
make someone divine?
Perhaps the most
controversial colour,
with so many different meanings
in other languages and cultures.
Indigo, infinity
May we all be reborn,
as indigo children,
continuing the infinite circle
of life. Coming back.
Violet, spirituality
I believe in a spiritual
connection between all
living beings and nature,
whether we need divinity
to define it, or not, we are
all one.
Inspired by:
Drowning…
Who isn’t?
Under the air, silky smooth caressing me while I glide deeper, ever deeper…
Bubbles tickle rushing past my long, slow hair as I turn and see the others staring back at me…
Who is the Shark now?
The flowers on your dress
Are not real
They are much better
They are much more
And less too
The flowers on your dress
Never dies
They go fearless
With all the powers of
Being flowers
More than that, on top
Of the grassy bird
The butterfly is flying
Flowing and giving birth
To the young pretty girls
The flowers on your dress
Are not real
They are much better
They are much more
And less too