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Jenish Mar 2020
dragged to his ruin
ravening fish came to eat -
floating bait of meat.
Saige Mar 2020
Sorry that I forget about you,
when you're swimming in the grime and muck
when you're gasping and begging

Sorry that I contain you
to a small, boring tank
to a life of circles and roundabouts

Sorry that I don't care about you
I know I should do more
I know I won't do more

Sorry that I am giving you away.
maybe you'll be happier there
maybe you'll forget about me

Like I forget about you.
Be a better pet-parent than me :/
Jenish Mar 2020
water and the fish
happily they coexist
will nature and me?
Kewayne Wadley Mar 2020
You are the land which soaks
The crumbs I've longed to eat.
My mouth can only open so wide,
Though nothing truly keeps us apart.
To know you means to die
And I've known you for years.
Where the water stops
We'll always be.
I've tasted your moistened crumbs
& here is where we'll always be.
Whose to say that you cannot
Swim where I've learned to walk
Whose to say that I cannot
Walk where you've learned to swim
Soon I'll be part of the crumbs
I've watched you eat
Soon, where the water stops
We'll always be
Poetic T Feb 2020
We got your crew like you were an
easy catch, cos once we got our
hooks in your postcode we ain't
                                              letting go, fact.

We see the youngens, they little bait,
but once we hooked them,they'll be
piranha's in our tank, stripping the
dignity from out of your
                        voice in 20 seconds flat.  

We got your crew like you were an
easy catch, cos once we got our
hooks in your postcode we ain't
                                              letting go, fact.

We strung up your boys, gasping for air.
But once we got our hooks on you
                               were gutting you easy.
But not before we get what we need from
                                                     your pleads.

We got your crew like you were an
easy catch, cos once we got our
hooks in your postcode we ain't
                                              letting go, fact.

Look little fish you in a tank of sharks,
we grin our grills gravestones of  what you
                   see last before your dispatched.  
But don't you worry there are plenty to keep
you company down there, you ain't the first
                             and you ain't going to be the last.

We got your crew like you were an
easy catch, cos once we got our
hooks in your postcode we ain't
                                              letting go, fact.

We got nicknamed the fisherman, we sail into
your town catching what ever we want.
        We don't scrap the sea floor hoping
for a catch. We fish for the real deal.
  Disillusioned of the fish bowl they swimming in.

We got your crew like you were an
easy catch, cos once we got our
hooks in your postcode we ain't
                                              letting go, fact.

Making it even easier to catch, to turn them from
                neighbourhood trash to one of our sharks.
showing other that once we got you hooked,
the only way you leaving is dead floating at the
bottom of the tank.

                We coming to your postcode.

We got your crew like you were an
easy catch, cos once we got our
hooks in your postcode we ain't
                                              letting go, fact.
Fleur Feb 2020
Bubbles bound for breakers,
Sea salt snacky snakers,
Great gulp goldfish galleys,
Brown beard barnacles and reef rash rallies,
Abstract art, active angles,
Tingly teepee tension tangles,
Swimming so safety sound,
Newest navies so nobly nouned!
A dip under the sea.
Unpolished Ink Feb 2020
End of the food chain

Tasty for lunch

There's a good reason

We swim in a bunch!
someguy Feb 2020
Once
When I walked after storm on a beach
By the sea,
I saw the
Gold fish washed up on a shore

I’ve bended my knee
Gently
I took her in my hands and
Let her flee
Back into the sea

Suddenly
From the water
I hear
“Thank you my dear…
Your wish I will grant…
Tell me what do you please…”

Astonished and thoughtful
For a moment I stood
“A drop of hope I wish
For those who have faced terrible trials of life
And those who lost faith in themselves
And people like me,
Who lived in this mud for whole eternity
Long enough to forget how wonders look or what are they – miracles…”
Mick Feb 2020
Under the still and open stars of a cousin's farm
too far to touch, I've dreamt of whiskers on catfish
since we last had tea.
The Waitomo Caves are strung by glowworms I
was too afraid to be touched by.
What if it touched my arm
and had me turn around?
If one had stuck my lip?
If I'd feel my face in blue glow light
just for a while?

I'd rest my head upon your arm
to take a memory for Facebook.
Your college crush would see herself
as phosphoric string that brushed your hair.
At night we'd drink a flower-blossomed tea
and meet again, two cave fish in a dream.
Dreams I can't get over.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2020
the idea that this is as

the webs towing spiders in the winds, winding
listfully
on circuits long ago distorted with mountains

and canyons,
effecting whorls and currents forcing a way around a mountain
for the mists that once watered the flatter feeling
vessel we were alive upon, in books

spaceship earth one. I in roman tongue,

but nothing lasts forever,
everything else changes,

constantly,

be still.
be

---
realms with in reasons,

uni-verse-ity-ifity agregaton setting liquified stone,
some

how (wise) wegsheid sehen Sie veer left

OOPs loops, left from when this was a decide point.

FYI, it was my idea to go through the wall,

I was the one who went through,
not you,

I came out the front door, not you,

but you didn't run, you were my friend,

in this projection of a decider point, we
passed

adaptively, as if augmented with a

allyes promise, ala all ye, all ye, outs in free... message from base

aye, I A-ok a intuitive influencee feeling tugging,

not pushing, gentle pull, slow
and steady

spider woman, grace for grace. let flow this thread
in ever

let it tangle with the wind,
we hold in our fists,

and the thief looses owning his good for use, the joker lifts off,

with a laugh, doing good,
like medicine,
loosed when one hand claps,

without the other knowing,
science-wise.
A page pondered while examining my life fifty years after the key decision
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