Want fishfingers, he said with raised eyes,
Not a problem,
Try Scampi Fries!
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Want fishfingers, he said with raised eyes,
Not a problem,
Try Scampi Fries!
This stuff of the high browQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
raised an eyebrow
at the concept of warm fish fingers
delivered by romeo a wooing
Would she like poetry?
Champagne or flowers?
No bring on the fish fingers
You'll all need cold showers!
hilarious i love it!Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
Thats so funny! :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Stef F
This thread is turning mighty fishy, but funny:D
That would make Carol Ann Duffy proud! Nice one Freckle.:DQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Yes well there are some real contenders on here for the next fish poem laurete !....................:):D:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
Time I went to bed. Good night my fish finger loving fell poet friends (vegetarian options also available) :)
Tucked up tightQuote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
against the cold of the night
fish fingers swimming in his tummy
with brown sauce oh so yummy
he sleeps, out like a light
A life on the ocean wave,
Oh how i love the sea,
But sadly for tonight,
That's all you'll get from me.
I'm off to bed, Merrilly
Good night all
The thought of fishfingers, lingers:)
not fish related I'm afraid. And a song not a poem. But mmmmm
Tim Buckley. 'Driftin'
When there's wine in your belly
Love rhythm's on your tongue
For you are a woman
And each man has been too young
But for me you were a lover
Gently under your cover
Your sheet reeks of odours
Oh i came here to hold and be held for a while
I've been drifting like a dream out on the sea
I've been drifting in between you and me
Everytime i think about you
I can't remember what i said or did
Was right or wrong, you know i just don't remember
All i wanna be is what you mean to me
All i wanna be is what you mean to me
Late last night as i dreamed in dizzy sunlight
I thought i heard your bare feet up the stairs
Just like a fool, just like a fool
I've been drifting
Like a dream out on the sea
I've been drifting in between what used to be
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6XxR7oxneTM
Nicely done...good to see you rising to the challenge.:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Class! (again).....night merry, night DT, think i will be off too, night all....its been fishfingertastic!Quote:
Originally Posted by merrylegs
Night Merry. Sleep tight, mind the fishes don't bite.Quote:
Originally Posted by merrylegs
Night DT. Night Freckle, sleep tight.Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
Oooooooo Brock...i just caught this b4 i was about to turn in....i love the line "I thought i heard your bare feet up the stairs", very evocative........nice image to carry to bed...night allQuote:
Originally Posted by Brock
Next time I swim in the sea
and feel somthing touching my toes
I'll fear the revenge of the cod
who'se friends I ate....he knows oh god!
Nite all..It's my bed time too
Thanks for such a cheeky cheery evening :D
Night Stef. Its been a real larf!Quote:
Originally Posted by Stef F
Cod Finger
Cod finger He's the one with a smelly touch,
A fishy clutch,
Such a Cod finger beware of his sea of sin,
He'll pull you in.
Fish Finger Hot,
Fish Finger Cold,
Fish Finger in the Pot,
Nine Days Old,
Yer Ganna Hospital.
That's class!Quote:
Originally Posted by Herakles
Classic one HeraklesQuote:
Originally Posted by Herakles
It's official. FPS now stands for Fishfinger Poets Society. :)
Morning all not doing much today feel a bit like i've eaten a bad prawn but i haven't. So just going to relax and ride it out.
Hello all
I have been reading Ted Hughes recently and being as were on afishy theme or at least were heresmy contribution
Pike, three inches long, perfect
Pike in all parts, green tigering the gold.
Killers from the egg: the malevolent aged grin.
They dance on the surface among the flies.
Or move, stunned by their own grandeur,
Over a bed of emerald, silhouette
Of submarine delicacy and horror.
A hundred feet long in their world.
In ponds, under the heat-struck lily pads-
Gloom of their stillness:
Logged on last year's black leaves, watching upwards.
Or hung in an amber cavern of weeds
The jaws' hooked clamp and fangs
Not to be changed at this date:
A life subdued to its instrument;
The gills kneading quietly, and the pectorals.
Three we kept behind glass,
Jungled in weed: three inches, four,
And four and a half: red fry to them-
Suddenly there were two. Finally one
With a sag belly and the grin it was born with.
And indeed they spare nobody.
Two, six pounds each, over two feet long
High and dry and dead in the willow-herb-
One jammed past its gills down the other's gullet:
The outside eye stared: as a vice locks-
The same iron in this eye
Though its film shrank in death.
A pond I fished, fifty yards across,
Whose lilies and muscular tench
Had outlasted every visible stone
Of the monastery that planted them-
Stilled legendary depth:
It was as deep as England. It held
Pike too immense to stir, so immense and old
That past nightfall I dared not cast
But silently cast and fished
With the hair frozen on my head
For what might move, for what eye might move.
The still splashes on the dark pond,
Owls hushing the floating woods
Frail on my ear against the dream
Darkness beneath night's darkness had freed,
That rose slowly toward me, watching.
Love the Hughes, NDubya. What a treat. I've always loved his poetry but haven't read much for a few years and this has made me determined to treat myself to an anthology. Thanks!
flint chink calls from high
black spattered snow heavy sky
jackdaws head for home
"Sea-Fever"
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
By John Masefield (1878-1967).
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)
Excellent hes I like it.
Excellent aquatic Hughes N-dub :cool:
Harewood House Red Kite
gliding effortlessly by
no strings attached
flint chink calls from high
black spattered snow heavy sky
jackdaws head for home
running up the hill
lips smart from icy kisses
of wind driven sleet
How is the Goddess of the hearth today Hes. {greek Mythology again}
Any of you guys seen the thread Britta has done for the 140 mile walk for charity from the new balance factory in warrington to their factory in cumbria to raise money to help with the flood damage. Any of you guys doing it as i know some of you live in cumbria.
Great. I love this Hes! :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
Ammonite
Specimen number 262 Pictius baylei
A Mesozoic coil of mud and mineral a
Remnant from a Jurassic sea.
A lustre has grown from the grease
left by inquisitive naive fingers
exploring the whorls of Fibonacci
Discovered in the soft clays of
Wootton Bassett, now
propping open the white gloss door
Of the Wootton's dining room, much
too often kicked across a laminate floor
darn this connection...its so slow and I'm posting stuff twice as a result. Will sign off and see y'all later.
I'm sure your all aware of this most spiffing site, but if not have a look i'ts genius http://www.thechap.net/index.html
It was worth posting twice! :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
A great image DTQuote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
I like it ND. images of Jurassic seas and sticky little mits. :cool:Quote:
Originally Posted by N-dubya