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Star BG Mar 6
I will cast of lead to sea
                    hoping to catch memory.
                                          That does swim in waters deep
                                          as I take a patient seat  

Clouds divulge a sign of hearts
                      I do wish to make new start.
                                    We must try to make it work
                                             in the past I was a ****

Wait a fish begins to bite
                          It reminds of you this night.
                                  You the fish did got a way.
                                              Do return to me, I pray.
inspired by Emily thanks
Absent Minded Feb 18
I was once a fisherman
Hunting the sun
With full intention
Of spearing the stars
That followed.
But then you came.
Suddenly, fishing became to dangerous.
Suddenly, I was in need of protection
From the same heat
I felt at the end of my spear
Thousands of times before.
The world I knew so well,
And called "Home",
Became filled with nothing
But cautions, dangers, and threats.
I was once a fisherman, yes,
But once you came
And reformed my land,
And stole my stars,
I had no choice
But to push my hunts underground.

The sun will be mine once more.
Once we have enough fuel,
I'll ignite the map,
And reclaim the now screaming world
From under your thumb.
my wriggling
dory in
nautical wine
that attested
my craw
with my
line high
now artistry
win a
bite-sized cling
that naturally
could sing
and dance
with the
air and
rhythm of
its strand
Azurel Mata Oct 2018
Soft melodies of the deep sea echo
Moonlight dances on my pretty scales
And icy bubbles whirl under my vest
Through my slippery hair
And down into my lungs to clear the way for overflowing foam
Laughter splashes behind my lips as my anticipation rises
Waiting for a night of twisted fairy-tales and uncalled for surprises.

Shimmering bodies swarm in spirals
Grinding in unison with the waves crashing at the surface
We're anxious for overflowing foam and hidden treasures
Purple light pierces the dark like shards of crystals
Casting a ghostly shade on bulbous faces
Pressure rises as each wave surges
Whirlpools of hot breath suffocate our gills
But the sidelines are shallow
And stragglers float motionless

Hair like seaweed at the nape of his neck
Unbuttoned linen soaked and dripping
Her hollow eyes glow green
Like the jelly orbs of a fish under florescent lights
She’s pressed against a boy who has hooks for fins
Searching for the parts that are edible
Tender, Scale-less, Slippery
Nothing wrong with being the catch of the day

Bubbles rise and pop as the last melodies drown
Schools of us are begging for shiny hooks and bad decisions
A handsome boy has been smiling all the while
He’s caught in a fisherman’s net
Craving salty lips and the spell to make him a man
But fisherman don't care for little mermaids
With hearts like sea glass and no hidden treasures to steal

Sweaty fins splash and cheer
The fishbowl shatters
Sea glass spills out onto sand
We squirm and flop onto land
Gasping without air to breathe
As our mouths and ***** thoughts dry in the sun
Leaving behind fresh meat without mouths to feed.

Rainbow confetti was stuck in the grooves of my scales
Wet clothes left on the floor of a steamy bathroom
Gasping and moaning into tile
Who's face was a handsome stranger
Because this meat shouldn't go to waste
And I'm drunken with desperation
For overflowing foam, jewels, and shiny hooks
But I'm just another fish in the sea
Tumbling in the waves with my rainbow confetti scales.
A school dance
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Soaring over the idyllic fields of poet's day dreams
an opening exposes some endless blue
the sun cast's his golden rod
and waits while humming his bright tune

Suddenly submerged
for his bait we had chewed
turbulence drops yellow bags
and white fog blinds our view

The sun is toying with us
letting the line out farther and farther
the old sun and the sky
a departure within a departure

Finally the sun pulls the line
screaming, we steady then ascend
are we going higher now?
better make amends
                                 via amens

Look all the fog is gone
this isn't the suns pole
the light is fleeing and
this cabinet grows so cold

The air thins into non existence
yet somehow we can breath
in these celestial waters
watch as the earth takes her leave

Reeling faster now
how these stars pass by
what's beyond the celestial sphere
this fisherman sure is spry

Finally a golden gleam approaches
splash through the pearly gates
into the net of heaven
pietistic fingers embrace

An omniscient voice speaks
and he tossed this metal heap away
who do I eat and who do I romance

It's going to be a long journey home.
miki Sep 2018
your voice is a curse
that i can never get rid of.
it entices me,
pulls me in
until there is no more rope to be held
and you have to throw me back out again
just to reel me in once more
so you can speak to me
with your voice made of poison.

i can never tell who’s worse.
or you.
Riley June Apr 2018
connected to the end of a fishing line,
pulled by a hook the eye,
reeled onto the deck by a strong grip,
lashing out against every touch,
try to hold me down and still my movements,
screaming for air while swallowing nothing,
soon limp i'm tossed aside as you go back to the reel,
pray that others will see my blood on; your hook in disguise
Star BG Feb 2018
Endless poems surface
from poets river in mind.
Waves containing fish-like words
move gracefully
as pen becomes oar.

Woven net of breath
captures some
while others are thrown back
for expansion.

catch is laid
on white screen-like table
cleaning them
before displaying my prizes.

Soon they are ready
for a wandering eye,
as I a poet fisherman continues to troll.
Just aware of all the poems that surface in me.
Jonathan Sawyer Dec 2017
A rope does not know its strands until it unravels.
Crazy unfurls as a cable overwhelmed by tension.
Braids to maintain are woven as need arises, and are not prepared.
My sanity is an anchor renewed,
while my instability is the eroding product of a millennium of crashing tides.
What knots do I need to know to endure the waves ahead?
I fear I will never be a fisherman.
4 December 2017 - by my wife, Adyson Wright
Sam Oct 2017
I didn't need a lure
Not even a hook
Bait didn't pay a role
No net, no knots, no pole
You simply walked into my life
You threw your arms around me
A squeeze ever so tight
Tight enough to free the unlit cigarette
from my jaw
It sailed softly to the ground
As if to say
"You won't need me anymore, that girl is here to stay"
And sure enough you did proclaim
I've never been much of a fisherman
but somehow I still caught you
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