Quotes like I may be dyslexic but...

Poem for Tara, by request

I may be
dyslexic

but I know
not to

carp
over someone else's

parc

poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Carp in the Donut-Shaped Lake

(To Akira Kurosawa)

Swimming in the donut-shaped lake,
The carp goes round and round,
While not in the ocean where waves break,
It is in way more it could want for surround,

While it is not such a make,
None can say it is no found,
For it emule with perfection the sake
Of an environment meant to be confound
For something bigger than lake,
As for here carp goes round and round,

And while at carp's mistake,
Carp finds itself around,
To what comes to partake
Ocean's characteristic abound,

And carp seems to forsake,
The reason to whom it is bound,
And takes for real the fake,
That lake is the ocean's ground,

For carp suffers the redound,
Of the donut-shape of the lake,
It learned to swim round and round,
In this ocean's astounding remake,

With no walls to put brake,
It reminds of ocean profound,
The donut-shaped lake,
Where carp goes round and round,

poem by Pedro Cescon
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Bearly a Cereal Killer

The killing fields,
not in Cambodia during the Kymar Rouge Regime,
Not in slaughter house five by Vonnegut,
But an animal that tended to have animal instincts,
appalling isn’t it?
The bear, who is bi-polar,
--no scratch that, single polar,
For the Antarctic continent lacks bears but is for the birds,
Knut, was cute, his diet, seafood he had to taste,
For awhile, but he began maliciously killing carp,
All the possible Gelfite Fish gone to waste.

Knut, the once-cute celebrity polar bear turned vicious killer, is at the center of a controversy over his brutal slaughter of ten carp at the Berlin Zoo. The massive polar bear, who has lived at the zoo since birth, apparently fished the carp out of the moat surrounding him and ripped them to shreds in front of several disgusted zoo patrons.

DE-DE-DE, you wonder if people know about nature.
Life is not orderly and cute,
such as especially Germans can attest to this,
From the chancellors and barons,

'There is speculation that hand-reared Knut killed the carp just for fun.' One German newspaper reported that Knut 'senselessly murdered the carp' before leaving their remains.

I find a paradox that so many were sickened at the thought of many carps being put down by a polar bears,
Yet not more than two generations has passed since millions were slaughtered, but no one knew or were following orders.

(4-13-2008)

poem by Joe Rosochacki
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Siluroid

I am the prize catch
I live in an artificial lake
fed by a nappe phréatique
I was put there to keep
lesser fish: carp
from taking up too much space
I live to be caught
and caught again
and be let loose as rain
I protest only to attract attention
Twenty minutes to make things look good
for the fresh-water sportsman

I know now well how to play the game

My almost fanless tail
A slithering mermaid mass from my puffed-up head
where overcoat-button eyes
sunk on either side
of my gaping gasping mouth
shell-fish fins for hands
Seven beige whiskers under my gawking chin
make me the butt
of dare-devil diving click-clucking coots
Even the slender-necked darting grebe ignores me
I stay low when the wild geese gather
with their young:
duckling swan barnacle
I make no sound to call my own
Only the crunch of carp
between two rows of filed-down molars

It is not my duty to swagger around
even under my metallic raincoat camouflage
I hide where the yarrow stalks grow thick and deep
or where the weeping willows dip their loaded plaits

Every Sunday I await the sporting hameçon
The tear makes the wear more ludique
Only the side of my underlip looks like a harelip

It doesn't much matter
for the fun-loving trotters and rovers
like to marvel with pride at my side
in the fishing-club picture of the week

Meantime I gorge myself with carp
That's why I hardly ever wish to carp

[...] Read more

poem by T. Wignesan
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Fishing For Carp (Hybridanelle)

Fishing for carp, with a six-pack cooling in the river
and the ringhals till now with eyes brown and unaware
something makes a sound, a movement making you shiver

when on your right a banded spitting cobra appears
with the woman leaving to prepare sausage
when it immediately rears

and girly is ready with the food, ready to deliver
and it gives her a great scare.
Fishing for carp, with a six-pack cooling in the river

and in your mind you are crunching gears
and you wish for her to be anywhere, but right there,
with the woman leaving to prepare sausage

and you are angry at the old deceiver
while she brings a tray full of goodies with loving care,
something makes a sound, a movement making you shiver

luckily she freezes behind you somewhere
and the snake only half alert senses something testing the air
and you wish for her to be anywhere, but right there,

and a nearby tree looks like a quiver
and you are looking for a kind of snare.
Fishing for carp, with a six-pack cooling in the river

and this is now a dangerous affair
and using the rod in your hands you slam with all your might,
and the snake only half alert senses something testing the air

slamming down on the snake like with golf driver
and this is it, you have had your share of luck, but still you dare,
something makes a sound, a movement making you shiver

she screams in fright, while you slam to your right
with your rod whistling
and using the rod in your hands you slam with all your might,

and the water shines like silver
and you cuddle her and there's a smile that you share.
Fishing for carp, with a six-pack cooling in the river
something makes a sound, a movement making you shiver

and you think: not again that spitting thing with its deadly sting,
when on your right a banded spitting cobra appears,
with your rod whistling
when it immediately rears.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Break Free! - Have a Ball!

Time to break free, one's cup of tea may not be to all taste,
past history's stale news, let be, haste, challenge chased, no waste!
Song bird of time migrates, sublime rewarding melody,
wide wings unfurl, from spiral twirl, soar to true rhapsody.

Time to escape, dropp nightshade drape, spring sprightly sings fresh air,
shed strings, red tape of every shape, fresh future fair prepare.
Shift key, click mouse, write waltz like Strauss, carouse in harmony,
drown frowns, don't grouse laze louse round house, spurn tale_spin gravity.

Discard hard times, from prose to rhymes switch life that pain shrugs off,
see light, delight quite free from fright, breathe out and fight rough cough!
Ignore moods poor, pain reign's downpour, sore thumb, fools dumb who bore,
far more expect, hope's scope elect, reject despond's dark core!

Time to rebound, life’s boat aground goodbye waves tidal waves,
from hurts that hound heart thought strung, bound, a clear approach now braves
life’s slings and arrows, narrow minds, discovers empathy,
that brings marshmallows, wide wings hallows, sheds self-sympathy.

From sleepy head, depressed in bed, leap up, cheered frame of mind,
misfortune's sped away, ahead, lies joy; leave lies behind.
Dread, pain vain bled, is shed instead success unbolts faults’ door,
so have a ball, reverse free fall, displace dark doubts with SURE!

Don't hedge your bets, glad sad regrets turns topsy-turvy soon,
don't sit on fence in self defence, self-confidence is boon.
Let inner fire inspire desire, suspicions set at rest,
all you require, adore, admire, won't cloy, - enjoy with zest.

From vain complain move on again, see sea’s brimfull of fish,
go take your pick as lips you lick so wickedly delish.
Look sharp! Don't carp, distress or mess up opportunities
chance offers all, go have a ball, refreshed prioritease!

If once distraught in heart or thought, trust must fuss dust displace,
move on to more - unseen before - let better bad replace.
From inner trial advance and smile, past tears, fears fast forgot,
prick cloudy pall, go have a ball and call each shot!

Hope's heart's at ease when spirit frees harp's soul from sharks, sharp spears,
DO as YOU please and by degrees all darkness disappears,
bread butters fly, sun spo[r]ts in sky, relearn to laugh a lot,
keep on the ball, leap each grey wall – bold, spurning blow cold, hot!

Link one to one, new tale begun, soon shadow shades dissolve,
don’t stumble, run! don’t cry, have fun! hands on luck’s clock revolve.
mosquito bite quite fly-by-night seems past controversy
compared to light solutions bright that crush adversity.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Fishing on a small lake

You had just left me
and I had relocated from Bellville
near Cape Town
to Centurion at Pretoria
and had travelled by airplane
and there was storm damage
to the roads
and I was still waiting
on my removal to arrive

and apart from going to work
I had a lot of time on my hands
and thoughts in my mind,
since I have lost
the only fish that really mattered
and I didn’t really know how.

My rods and reels and fishing tackle
from when I was a boy
was at my mother’s
where I now lived,
and the lake on the other side
of Centurion mall
caught my eye,
while I drove
over the bridge.

On the weekend
loneliness really caught up with me
and my mother
helped me prepare the bait
like she did
when I was a child.

It was nothing fancy,
just custard powder, baking meal
and honey
or baking meal and curry
or a fresh white bread and honey
that I used that summer.

At the lake some black kids
were selling tins with earthworms
to anglers,
but I wasn’t interested
as catfish goes for earthworms as well
and I wanted to catch blue kurper
or carp or maybe yellow-fish.

It was at about eleven o’clock

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Koi

Chinese Carp swimming
in prestigious ornamental tank
prestige purchased expensively
for luck for tradition for prestige.

If you were ravenously hungry
would you eat lucky carp?
Would starving poor people
among you eat it gladly?

Koi - a carp with red-gold or white coloring, kept as an aquarium or ornamental pond fish. Native to Japan and temperate regions of East Asia.
Latin name: Cyprinus carpio

poem by Terence George Craddock
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La Mur De La Prison D'en Face

Paroles et musique : Yves Duteil
(c) 1977 by les ditions de l'critoire
1 En regardant le mur
De la prison d'en face
J'entends tous les ragots
Et les bruits des autos
Boulevard Arago
Qui passent
Sur les toits des maisons
Qui servent d'horizon
Un bout de la tour Mont-
Parnasse
2 L'hiver on voit les gens
Dans les maisons d'en face
L't les marronniers
Les cachent aux prisonniers
Et les bruits du quartier
S'effacent
Quand l'cole a ferm
Combien ont d penser
Au jour de la rentre
Des classes
3 En regardant le mur
J'imagine sa place
Les grillages ouvrags
D'un parc abandonn
Explosant de rosiers
D'espace
Les grillages ouvrags
D'un parc abandonn
O les arbres emmls
S'enlacent
4 En regardant le mur
De la prison d'en face
Le coeur un peu serr
D'tre du bon ct
Du ct des autos
Je passe
Et du toit des maisons
Qui ferment l'horizon
Un morceau de la Tour
Dpasse

song performed by Yves Duteil
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La Louange des eaux, des arbres et des dieux

Plus même un cygne errant aux herbes qu’il remue
Dans l’eau silencieuse et déserte aujourd’hui,
De l’ombre de son aile en marquant l’heure aiguë
Ne trouble les bassins où rôde son ennui.

La source souterraine où le flot pur abonde
Confond son frais cristal à leur tiède torpeur,
Et son onde secrète au lieu que vagabonde
Se disperse, s’ajoute et se mêle à la leur ;

Plutôt que d’arroser les roses riveraines,
De sourdre en les roseaux et, du soir au matin,
De chanter et de rire aux gorges des fontaines,
Elle entre au lourd sommeil des antiques bassins.

Je sais bien que, parfois, pour un faste suprême,
Le parc silencieux peut ranimer ses eaux
Et d’un fluide, clair et mouvant diadème,
Couronner sa tristesse et sacrer son repos ;

Alors s’épanouit, monte, bifurque et fuse
Le jet qui joue au ciel un clair bouquet vivant
Et, bruine, pluie éparse et poussière confuse,
S’irise aux feux du prisme et se disperse au vent.

Ce qui fut neige, éclairs, cristal et pierreries
Retombe et flotte encor sur le bassin troublé
Et bave et rôde autour des bêtes accroupies,
Béantes de l’effort où leur col s’est enflé.

Car l’eau, pour qu’elle darde, étincelle et jaillisse,
A passé par leur gorge en hoquets lumineux,
Lavant le bronze rauque et mouillant le plomb lisse
Où rampe un ventre mou près d’un dos épineux.

Je sais que pour dompter la horde fabuleuse
Qui aboie en silence et qui hurle sans voix
Et jette à leurs pieds nus sa colère écumeuse,
Il est toujours des dieux debout et l’arc aux doigts.

J’en ai vu qui dressaient sous la pluie irisée
Le sceptre, le trident, la massue et la faux
Et, divins moissonneurs de la gerbe brisée,
Cassaient d’un geste dur la tige des jets d’eaux ;

D’autres, le pied au socle ou serrés dans la gaîne
Qui porte leur stature ou qui leur monte au flanc,
Et l’un d’eux dont la course éternellement vaine
Précipitait encor son immobile élan.

[...] Read more

poem by Henri de Regnier
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I Know Their Name

I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. Their father used to drive a light blue chevrolet
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. They had a dog that used to answer to Barney
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
(La guitar)
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I say:
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name

song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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6 Minutes Of Pleasure

Six minutes, six minutes
Six minutes, six minutes
(Sample)
I know why you're here
I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know why you're here
I know what you're doing
I can see it in your eyes you're up to somethin
I know what it is, but we're still cool
And we can socialize, I'm peepin ya baby
I'm holdin back I'm not lettin go
Cause a fool doesn't have a shoulder to cry on
So, give me a kiss and you service
Whether you like a mister or a miss
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Baby you're my dear I know why you're here
I know why you came I know what you're thinkin
I know what you need and that's what I've got
You think I'm goin crazy no I'm not drinking
I know what you want, I made ya want it
Take my hand listen to the man
You have a plan don't even risk it
What do you want a biscuit?
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bestiary: or Orpheus’s Procession

(Le Bestiaire ou Cortège d’Orphée)

Orpheus

Admire the vital power
And nobility of line:
It’s the voice that the light made us understand here
That Hermes Trismegistus writes of in Pimander.

The Tortoise

From magic Thrace, O delerium!
My sure fingers sound the strings.
The creatures pass to the sounds
Of my tortoise, and the songs I sing.

The Horse

My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
My gold-charioted fate will be your lovely car
That for reins will hold tight to frenzy,
My verses, the patterns of all poetry.

The Tibetan Goat

The fleece of this goat and even
That gold one which cost such pain
To Jason’s not worth a sou towards
The tresses with which I’m taken.

The Serpent

You set yourself against beauty.
And how many women have been
victims of your cruelty!
Eve, Eurydice, Cleopatra:
I know three or four more after.

The Cat

I wish there to be in my house:
A woman possessing reason,
A cat among books passing by,
Friends for every season
Lacking whom I’m barely alive.

[...] Read more

poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Thomas the Rhymer

Part First

Ancient

True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied wi' his ee;
And there he saw a lady bright,
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.

Her skirt was o the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o the velvet fyne,
At ilka tett of her horse's mane
Hang fifty siller bells and nine.

True Thomas he pulld aff his cap,
And louted low down to his knee:
'All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth I never did see.'

'O no, O no, Thomas,' she said,
'That name does not belang to me;
I am but the queen of fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.

'Harp and carp, Thomas,' she said,
'Harp and carp, along wi' me,
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be!'

'Betide me weal, betide me woe,
That weird sall never daunton me;
Syne he has kissed her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.

'Now, ye maun go wi me,' she said,
'True Thomas, ye maun go wi me,
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Thro weal or woe as may chance to be.'

She mounted on her milk-white steed,
She's taen True Thomas up behind,
And aye wheneer her bride rung,
The steed flew swifter than the wind.

O they rade on, and farther on -
The steed gaed swifter than the wind -
Until they reached a desart wide,
And living land was left behind.

'Light down, light down, now, True Thomas,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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There are a couple of carp fishing books I've been reading. I'm very interested in that line of books, because I think they write very well, carp anglers, about the general environment.

quote by Tom Felton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thomas the Rhymer

True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied wi' his e'e;
And there he saw a ladye bright
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.

Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o' the velvet fyne;
At ilka tett o' her horse's mane,
Hung fifty siller bells and nine.

True Thomas he pu'd aff his cap,
And louted low down on his knee
'Hail to thee Mary, Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth could never be.'

'O no, O no, Thomas' she said,
'That name does not belang to me;
I'm but the Queen o' fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.

'Harp and carp, Thomas,' she said;
'Harp and carp along wi' me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be.'

'Betide me weal; betide me woe,
That weird shall never daunten me.'
Syne he has kiss'd her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.

'Now ye maun go wi' me,' she said,
'True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be.'

She 's mounted on her milk-white steed,
She 's ta'en true Thomas up behind;
And aye, whene'er her bridle rang,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind.

O they rade on, and farther on,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind;
Until they reach'd a desert wide,
And living land was left behind.

'Light down, light down now, true Thomas,
And lean your head upon my knee;
Abide ye there a little space,
And I will show you ferlies three.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous
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Thomas the Rhymer

True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied wi' his e'e;
And there he saw a ladye bright
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.

Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o' the velvet fyne;
At ilka tett o' her horse's mane,
Hung fifty siller bells and nine.

True Thomas he pu'd aff his cap,
And louted low down on his knee
'Hail to thee Mary, Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth could never be.'

'O no, O no, Thomas' she said,
'That name does not belang to me;
I'm but the Queen o' fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.

'Harp and carp, Thomas,' she said;
'Harp and carp along wi' me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be.'

'Betide me weal; betide me woe,
That weird shall never daunten me.'
Syne he has kiss'd her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.

'Now ye maun go wi' me,' she said,
'True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be.'

She 's mounted on her milk-white steed,
She 's ta'en true Thomas up behind;
And aye, whene'er her bridle rang,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind.

O they rade on, and farther on,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind;
Until they reach'd a desert wide,
And living land was left behind.

'Light down, light down now, true Thomas,
And lean your head upon my knee;
Abide ye there a little space,
And I will show you ferlies three.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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