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Norman Crane May 5
downpast where the divermin dont go
is an underwater sun
that casts a blackhole shadow
in to the fishes swim
but they donnot swim out
where oh where do they fishes go
after theybin drowngone in the shadow
after theybin infosucked by the blackhole
i say i dont know
but some days i think i seem them
floating on the cloud forms
as crows
Ylzm Apr 18
Surer knowledge by cross examination
of witnesses than belief in imaginations
Will more certainty than mindless chance
Shakespeare was a man rather than monkeys
and Eve than washed up fishes learning to walk
As I stood
Alongside a lake
I contemplated
At the holy fish
Fearlessly they swimed
Fearlessly they jumped
It was a holy lake
Fishing wasn't allowed
Fearlessly they dived
Fearlessly they survived
For there was a curse
Anyone fishing a fish
As a ***** they would finish
As I contemplated
A beauty appeared
Hi, you're a star
In the galaxy?
I enquired
No, she said
In my eyes
The lion roared
In the nearby safari
The lion roared
In my heart
I was so powerful
I was so smart
I said, OK, try!
Neither she was holy fish
Nor I was holy fish
We fished and fished!
Martin Boško Apr 12
Searching for danger
Like a suicidal fish
Waiting for a bait
Wings extended to its farthest
The soft wind under me
Lifting my wings higher
The tips gently dipping into the sea
Creating clear crystalline ripples
Being free is all I desire
I lift my wing and dive in
Aiming for the fishes fin
I go straight for the win
The chances of me getting out is thin
But I took the chance
Without a second glance
Being in the water holds me in a deathly trance
But to freedom, I must fight
Back to the light
And into my flight
Raven Feels Apr 6
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I wrote that so long that I don't even remember what I meant anymore???---:

it is what it is

she used the words

traced myths on the board

then changed the tints

all over the place she wished the hints

a miraculous visit

been bet on the mere illicit

for hemispheres to plan new dragonflies bare naked fishes

Ken Pepiton Mar 28
The art invention AI, the Allsay, I'll-gorithm,
Aiaia ai
let me say this is poetry, I did not write,
but found
Proto-Indo-European root meaning "to set, put."

It forms all or part of:
abdomen; abscond; affair; affect
(v.1) "make a mental impression on;"
(v.2) "make a pretense of;"
affection; amplify; anathema; antithesis;
artifact; artifice;
beatific; benefice; beneficence; beneficial; benefit;
bodega; boutique;
chafe; chauffeur;
comfit; condiment; confection; confetti; counterfeit;
deed; deem; deface; defeasance; defeat; defect; deficient;
difficulty; dignify; discomfit; do (v.);
doom; -dom;
edifice; edify;
efface; effect; efficacious; efficient;
facade; face; facet; ******;
facile; facilitate; facsimile; fact;
faction (n.1) "political party;"
factitious; factitive; factor; factory;
factotum; faculty; fashion; feasible; feat; feature;
feckless; fetish;
fordo; forfeit;
hypothecate; hypothesis;
incondite; indeed; infect;
malefactor; malfeasance;
modify; mollify;
office; officinal;
prima facie;
proficient; profit; prosthesis; prothesis;
purdah; putrefy;
recondite; rectify; refectory;
suffice; sufficient;
surface; surfeit;
ticking (n.);
theco-; thematic; theme; thesis;

It is the hypothetical source of/evidence for its existence is provided by:
Sanskrit dadhati "puts, places;"
Avestan dadaiti "he puts;"
Old Persian ada "he made;"
Hittite dai- "to place;"
Greek tithenai "to put, set, place;"
Latin facere "to make, do; perform; bring about;"
Lithuanian dėti "to put;"
Polish dziać się "to be happening;"
Russian delat' "to do;"
Old High German tuon,
German tun,
Old English don "t
dondiddondondon just the facts.
fishing with dragnets killed more than a third of the fish in the sea, eventually.
Standing beside a tree, near the warm and calm sea.
I pondered at the wonders of the life beneath, was it a heath or sheath?
Dazzling on a rock, grappling me along,
greeting with pleasure, leading me to the treasure
- a mermaid

The squid and the jellyfish came with a glow
paved the way with light, like the winters moonlight.
Deep underneath, like cold and dark night.
Shivering all the way, with the mermaid I go.

Anemones covered me like a blanket of snow,
and then let me slow.
Wading through the sponges,
On a strong coral, by the brittle sea star,
without a quarrel I sat.

The feather dusters moved with ease
making me freeze.
Came a shark,
very near and I trembled with fear.
Soon with a lift, away it shift.

The octopus and the butterfly fish,
what a splendid sight!
With pleasure I write.
Cared and shared my little wonderland,
In the lovely hands
away from the thunder lands.
Laokos Mar 13
break the poem
open like a pomegranate

spill the seeds
squeeze the juice
**** the flesh

when we were kids
we played in
mother's garden:
carrots, strawberries,
rhubarb, tomatoes,
plums, raspberries,
cucumbers, pumpkins,
green beans, watermelon,
onions, potatoes
a goldfish named Pierre

he died after
my parents
cleaned his tank
and didn't rinse
it properly

done in by soap--
life can be such a
fragile thing sometimes

we buried him
in the garden
and marked his
grave with a
smooth river stone

one summer
we picked a great
big watermelon
from its dirt nap;
heavy as a bowling
ball and green
as a cat's eye

we heaved it onto
the picnic table
and carved it into
and smaller wedges
until each one
of us was holding
our very own
chunk of melon

everyone dug in
after admiring their
piece for a moment;
eating it with
their eyes
before their

but as I went
to bite into mine
I noticed a seed
in the way

so I peeled
at it to free it
and as I fingered
the dripping flesh
of the fruit
the 'seed' revealed
itself to be
not a seed at all

but the eye
of a goldfish
staring back at me
lodged in the melon
in its death throws
gasping for
breath in the
open air

its mouth opening
and closing like
it had a secret
to tell

I stood there
in stupefaction
when suddenly
it slipped free of
its womb
and landed in the grass
behind me

but when I
turned around
to retrieve it
I couldn't find it

there was no goldfish
anywhere in that yard
I checked under
my feet
under the picnic table--
under other people's

"what are you
looking for?" someone

"nothing," I said,
because who
would've believed it
anyway?--I'm not
even sure if I did--
"just thought I dropped

I stood back up
feeling different
about the world--
like the mystery
ran deeper than any
of us realize--
looked at
my hunk of fruit
and discovered
I wasn't hungry

so I put
it down on
the picnic table
and walked over
to Pierre's grave

there, underneath
that river stone,
was a watermelon seed
just beginning to

I smiled in
and gently covered
it with fresh soil
moving the stone
a few centimeters
off the sprouting seed

'Pierre, the watermelon
fish,' I thought--
wiping the dirt
from my hands--

'I wonder what
death has in store
for me?'
I move from right to left lazily
Everything around me is hazy
Sometimes a colourful passerby stops for a rest
Sometimes they stay, considering me as their nest
But they all leave over time
Some consider me as grime
Some love to nibble on my tips
All I rely on is my roots and their grip
The sun’s ribbons of light nurture me
They play through the waves as I admire their beauty
Some days it’s calm and quiet
And I can feel the warm sand in my roots
Sometimes is rough and rocks and pebbles rip through
All of those beautiful green stems I grew
But through it all, I grow back
To feel the beautiful warm sun touch my tips
And the soft touch of sea foams lips
~ 13/2/21
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