Best Catfish Poems
A cat jumped in the river
to meet a fellow fish,
he wanted to be like them
it was his only wish.
He figured he could do it
he had everything it takes,
with whiskers on his front parts
and a tail a catfish makes.
He swam down to the bottom
while holding in his breath,
but soon began to worry
that this might end in his death.
His little heart was pounding
as he raced back to the top,
he determined if he made it
that he wasn't going to stop.
He broke the surface with a splash
and gulped in lots of air,
He climbed up the embankment
and ran like he didn't care.
He ran through empty fields
and to home ran all the way,
and when he got their safely
stopped to think about the day...
"I love to watch the catfish
as they circle down below,
they move around so effortless
and offer quite a show."
He wanted to be like them
so he thought, in blissful glee,
but then he came to realize
...'twas curiosity.
Their mesmerizing silky glide
and tantalizing tryst,
offered a temptation
that brings us to this twist:
The cat by then concluded
that it was to be his fate,
that he should rather have the catfish
on his dinner plate.
Computer catfish anglers
Are out phising every second, day and night
Trawling the world wide web with baited hook
For innocent victims to catch
Internet sites such as Facebook and Twitter
Supply them with constant schools of fish
How easily they reel in trusting people with their deception
Can you be one hundred percent certain
A person behind the computer screen is for real?
Trolls don’t live under the bridge like in fairy tales
Fake profiles, false pictures and fraudulent names
Intended to disguise who they really are
Sadly some victims of their abuse resort to suicide
Hope these evil ‘catfish’ get caught and end up in court
Catfish Contest
Sponsored by Catie Lindsey
5/30/18
Muddy Water's Gramma gave us licorice
I walked the old Kenwood neighborhood with my twin little brother and sister in tow,
'hold there hands and look both ways before you cross the street'
No use trying to talk my way out, knew it was the only way mom would let me go.
October's new moon, peaked in and out of passing clouds,
leaving the night gloomy in stygian darkness.
Faces painted, carrying our paper bags, dressed in raggedy linen pillow case shrouds.
Low sad sound of a guitar's slow lick, pitch in open E, played a few doors down,
accompanied by a soulful song sung:
'Well, my mother told my father,
just before hmmm, I was born,
"I got a boy child's comin,
He's gonna be, he's gonna be a rollin stone,
Sure 'nough, he's a rollin stone..'
I knocked on the door, our shrilled chorus trio called out Trick or Treater's round,
Clutching a Bible in her hands 'to ward off evil spirits'.
Gramma Della turned on the porch-light, framed in screened doorway,
emitting a joyous whooping sort of laugh, invited the three of us in.
The bright-eyed man sat at the kitchen table, looking up from his guitar emblazoned in Formica reflected glory.
In the corner, a pretty girl, dressed as Cinderella, sat cross-legged on the floor..
with what looked like a million dollars worth of candy.
Muddy, who had ceased his song at our knock, nodded our way.
With curious smile that was both happy and sad, in smooth, measured voice said
'Oh don't you look a fright'.
Della handed out licorice that year, the same as all the years we once knew.
But what us kids remember best, and last, the man who sung & played the Catfish Blues.
What I didn't learn 'til later, a picture placed in Muddy's view of the living room.
Little Walter, with his harmonica cupped in hands,
who died just a year earlier, a day after Valentine's moon.
Inspired by McKinley Morganfield and his Grandmother Della Jones
You get a heck of a sound from the church. Can't you hear it in my voice? -Muddy Waters
a rainbow catfish
jumps clean out of the water
showing her fierceness
Yellow Catfish
The man who tells me he loves me is saying those same words to someone else. I met him on the internet dating site although I knew it was not right. Misery, company and I did it again. I got hooked by a yellow catfish of a man.
He sent real pictures from a camera for sure. Videos, hangout messages, and phone calls- many times four. I liked the accent in his voice. For once I believed I had made a good choice.
Until he asked for gifts like iTunes gift cards and such; did not waste time telling me how much. The sound of his voice matched that control sound. I was so glad he was not close around.
I felt him hold on trying to get all he can. Trying hard not to make a jealous wish. I realized I was being scammed by a yellow catfish.
I fell for it; I truly did. Even went out and purchased a wig. Took several pictures to his delight. Sent free online photos of couples making out in the
daytime, on the beach, but never at night.
This yellow fellow started to pull away from me. Realizing he was busted, he took longer to respond to my texts you see. Wisdom showed up as a dish saying I should never fantasize a jealous wish and I do not like yellow catfish.
They met a few years ago
On a Texas Hold'em site
Cautious to exchange info
Wanted a few hours of fun
Play cards, laughter and flirting
Profiles had lives of their own
Elderly Jack and Lucille
At night young Zac and Camille
Sexy pics no way were real
They soon fell for each other
Poker players saw it all
She was baby, he lover
Zac and Camille by day now
Texted and talked hours on end
Reality blurred somehow
There were bumps along the way
Players witnessed the drama
Jealousy problem they say
Life plans were made together
Generous fake gifts were bought
A house, jewelry, whatever
The worst that could happen did
Camille noticed Zac straying
Uncovered things he had hid
How could he do this to them
Her heart was broken in two
For real now a fake victm
My question to you would be
Who was catfish... catfisher
It started so innocently
May 20, 2018
*True story...
Catfish Contest by Catie Lindsey
N/A
It was me and my uncle Buster
having dinner at Pearl's Lunchenette.
The sun was as high
as merange on the pie,
'twas a day that I shant soon forget.
Across from us sat old man Dauber,
addressing a man at his side,
describing a big Flathead Catfish
with his hands more than shoulder width wide.
Known as the town's story stretcher,
and an unending thirst for a beer,
he faced the man he was addressing,
but made sure all the others could hear.
In his story the battle was epic,
poorly hooked, broken pole, tattered line,
an angler's exceptional talent,
a fish in its muscular prime.
Buster looked over his coffee
I read the disgust in his eyes.
He called out to old man Dauber,
"Where'd you catch a catfish of that size?"
Happy to have a new listener,
Dauber grinned as he puffed out his chest,
"In that hole by the Rock Island Rail Road,
and a little bit more to the west."
"Good spot; know it well," agreed Buster.
"I've fished there myself quite a bit.
Once I hooked an old railroad lantern,
and be damned if it wasn't still lit!"
Dauber grimaced and sat back deflated.
Other patrons all grinned in delight.
Buster said, "Take a foot off the Catfish,
I'll be happy to blow out the light."
Cautiously I wade
Through shallow waters at dawn
Minnows tickle me
My fishing hole waits for me
catfish jump with the sunrise
Catfish wears his straw
hat
sits on the front porch
cussing
He feeds along
the bottom of the creek
gathering what he can
for supper
Sings his song.
I was on my way to school when it happened.
You see, I never miss school and for me,
playing hooky has an entirely different meaning!
Well,
I was scrounging up some lunch along the way.
By the by, the Mississippi river is a great place to eat!
and I came upon what I thought was a great big
Seaweed salad.
Opening wide for my first taste, snagged!
my left whisker caught in a net.
Yes, I know what you’re probably thinking,
he’s still in school and he has whiskers?
I was really scared.
I for one, do not intend to end up
covered in corn meal, sizzling in a frying pan.
You know, I have aspirations. But, my mom says
stay in school so I have something to fall back on.
I can sing!
Sure, some may call it noise but hey,
there was Hootie and the Blowfish, why not
Codie and the Catfish?
electric catfish
defend with power discharge
shock to capture prey
April 20, 2018
haiku Contest
By Mick Talbot
Theme - Fish
Seventh Place
Online:Profile
(LIE): "Hi! I am a single man, Bachelor clean shaven not even a mustache"
Truth: I'm a cheat, dirty soiled minimal waged job go-tee liken a cat or muskrat
(LIE): Born in Saint Louis Missouri Own my Marketing Company
Truth: Birth in Caviler, Mississippi 2 generation catfish fisherman, got 2 girlfriends one I call my wife;
Have a total of 6 children (one's belongs to the mid wife);
(LIE): Live in a Town home paid for has 4 Bedrooms, Library, Den 5 baths;
Truth: I live in the what we call the bottoms in a shack;
(LIE): 28 Years old
Truth: 57 man that's bold your youngest girlfriend 20
(LIE): Picture posted Clean shaven, Good looking chiseled chin handsome neat trimmed hair
Truth: Such a old intended man with a mustache liken a 1920 criminal whisker like barbels around the mouth only got 3 teeth at bottom of his mouth
Looking like some crazy big-eyed Catfish a freshwater or marine fish with,
typically bottom-dwelling.
In reality I am not the picture posted, I'm not that good looking really
The cat fishing getting better and better fishing the Mississippi River,
far below its normal level
(LIE):Let's meet at a private(public) placement go on a date
Signed: Austen Daniels
Truth: My name is Alan Dunes Jr.
…...........“And I ain't got nothing but trouble for you we're gonna hook up on
Jerry Springer”
GIRLFRIEND,Ya just been...........
CATFISHED
05/12/18
Catfish - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Catie Lindsey
Catfish are very funny looking
They have two whiskers, don't ask me how
Their tails are short and have no hair
And they never say meow
Their diet consist of many things
Worms, fish, and some day old chicken liver
A taste for spiders and also "Spam"
If you slice them up a sliver
In my life I've caught a few
Hundred's up to date
But only one, had I let go
The rest were on my plate
I've cooked them up so many ways
I'll mention just a few
Cajun, blackened, deep fried in oil
But I like them most in stew
So if you catch one fishing
Or if you see them in the store
Bring them home and cook them up, enjoy!
You'll be going back for more
Catfish- Contest
Sponsored by Catie Lindsey
5/10/18
Catfish I love is on a plate
with tartar sauce, french fries, and slaw;
but I despise the type that trolls
online, those pervs who break the law
and tell some trusting kid, “I’m twelve,
like YOU! I live right by the park
near you. Let’s meet there by the bridge.
You’ll be back home before it’s dark.
Don’t tell your mom! If she’s like mine,
she’ll tell you NO. Let’s just sneak out.”
She says, “I’ll go slip out the back.
We’ll have a lot of fun—no doubt!”
The sicko rushed right to the bridge.
The “kid” he met was twenty-five,
an undercover cop with cuffs
and back-up. “Channel 14 LIVE”
rushed in on this newsworthy scene.
A big catfish was caught that day.
Because such wickedness abounds,
not all such stories end this way.
May 15, 2018, entered in Catie Lindsey's Catfish Poetry Contest
vacant distant stare
severed head gasping for air…
hushpuppies to share