fishing (Remove filter)

To the Lost Trawlermen of Hull

O' if you could see the Devil's grin, would you trespass on his mortal sea?
Thy is no sanctuary to those perils, bound phlegmatic men;
whose hands labour in enemy boundaries.
O' trawler men, who art thou unite in brethren, fight incoming battles; torrential weather.
Many address the danger, huddled together; trying to keep warm
but we know death is no friend and is always hungry for more.

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Out Of The Backwoods

He'd killed mountain lions and elks

Survived years of snow and ice in the hills

Made a living by trapping and fishing

Yet somehow managed to pay his bills


He died in his bed like a sister of mercy

As we all do, he softly ran out of breath

We'd all imagined him facing a violent end

Some gruesome and horrible death


Down from the mountains he came one spring


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And There Was

Let there be water.

Let it be called pond.

Let trunk and branch and leaf arise around it,

Walling the sky’s mirror against too much.

Let small plump birds paddle its silk surface,

Their calls echoing ancient creation.

Let stiff winged things fly and dart about

Above stiff legged things that skim

A criss cross the water’s top.

And let beneath flash silver through...

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creationfishingpondstoo much

Man Versus Marlin

In and out the sea doth sway

Erasing mans death and decay.

An old man's struggle,

No net, no sail. Only a flag

of permanent defeat.


Great fish swimming around and around,

the reel running, a screaming sound.

A Marlin swims, the ultimate catch,

only days to see if luck they will have.


The men struggle and pray away,

A massive catch needed to save the day.


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boatdecaydefeatfishermanfishingmarlinmouths to feedseastormstrugglewaves


The lake is still in the evening sun

A little breeze make the longer grass sway on the bank

and a ripple disturb the surface:

A mayfly lands

A swallow drinks and is gone before I see

With a rattle, a duck takes off from behind the island

Then it is still again

Beneath the reflections are fish

Sometimes - but not yet tonight -

A circle of ripples flows out from a rise


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The Bass (96)

Lagoon and aqua English blue.

Midget white horses roll with silver eyes.

Their hooves curling forward then crash,

as the surf storms in yards behind.


Tremors invade the sandbanks and gullies,

as the slack creeps in before.

This is the world of the sea perch.

The bass. Striking hard and hitting fast.


Armoured in silver and streaking shine,

as he terrorises the r...

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The Ole Fishin Hole (Haiku)

The ole fishin hole

Toss a stone it make ripples

Water has turned green.

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