Long Crawfish Poems
Long Crawfish Poems. Below are the most popular long Crawfish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crawfish poems by poem length and keyword.
Just North of South Carolina
Is where this country boy was born
All I really cared in those growing years
Was the running through woods kind of fun
Those days I fondly remember
There's no way you can bad mouth the South
With water up to our knees chasing crawfish in creeks
And anything else nature would allow
Even squirrel hunting as younguns
So my Granny could make us a pie
No secret better kept than eating straight off the land
Whether it was squirrels or apples to find
Granny always made delicious pies
Always in church every Sunday
Paying the Lord his due respects
For all that we have and all that he gives
Plus for the forgiveness of sins
Then after church when there weren't no chores
We'd kiss and tell our parents goodbye
They'd not see us again till we heard the bell ring
Come about supper time
There's something that's to be said about being a kid
Growing up down in the South
Where there's no better time below the Mason Dixon line
But that you'd have to find out for yourself
I doff my fedora to the feller who invented pertater chips!
That genius developed the ideal thingy in which to immerse our dips!
How could we survive sans our weekly fix of Dominoes pizza pie,
Or a half-dozen Dunkin Donuts consumed on the sly?
Ain't nothin' as finger lickin' good as Kentucky Fried, original of course,
Or a Wendy's triple bacon 'burger when you're as famished as a horse!
Ah! The myriad of Mexican fixin's offered by the local Taco Bell!
Chimichangas, burritos, tacos, tostadas and enchiladas as well!
Japanese and Chinese establishments offer mysterious and fancy fare.
Try sushi, octopus, crawfish or deep fried squid if you dare!
If you crave ice cream, cookies or a hunk of cake or such cuisine,
Hie yourself on down the street to the nearest Dairy Queen!
For the hotdog aficionado there are weenie varieties galore;
Foot longs, chilidogs, smothered in sauerkraut and so many more!
Want some scrumptious and satisfying grub that'll fill your belly?
Get a ham on rye, thick salami or a Rueben at the neighborhood deli!
At Dad's BBQ you can order any kind of barbeque with greasy fries.
To top off the pancakes at The Village Inn you can buy chocolate pies!
Doctors and nutritionists would cringe at such a diet of course.
Fiddle faddle! I'll keep on eatin' that stuff with absolutely no remorese!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
That season comes and go,
The parties in the streets are hot.
Balls are held in name for the Krewe,
The Crowning of the King and Queen.
Crowds are gathered down the cobbled roads.
Parades are rolling through,
Food cooking through the day,
Crawfish boiling in the pot,
Those spices wafting in the air,
Drinks pouring everywhere.
New Orleans and all of Southern Louisiana.
Dancing away to that Zydeco music.
Beads and treasures thrown overhead,
Catching them as quick as you can.
Hearing the bands and seeing the dancers dance
Colorful costumes in the night.
The masks covering their faces.
Again, the season has come and gone,
But till next year, we will party on.
.
Dat Ole River (The Calcasieu)
Dats a lazy ole river, dats a muddy ole river.
Dat river she flows on and on and on,
Dat river she flows;
Through my mind, to my soul.
Dat river she be wide,
And dem shrimp nets scrape her belly;
And dem crawfish play around her.
Dat river she be life, She be life to me.
I used to go there with my Momma.
Momma she fixed da Gumbo, da Gumbo and the bisque.
Momma she boiled the crabs and crawfish;
By dat ole muddy river.
I took my Marie down to the river;
Took my sweet Sha to dat river.
An we swam there in the moonlight;
I fell in love beneath that moon.
I poled my pirogue down dat river;
Down that muddy, swampy river.
I raised my children round that river.
That river she be life to me.
Come and play for me the accordion,
The accordion and French harp.
Bring fat Mommas and fat babies
And we’ll have a fais do do.
Bring sweet wine and red boudin,
Bring the red and white boudin,
To the banks of dat ole river.
We grow old and die together.
Dear ole Calcasieu.
Dats a lazy old river, Dats a dirty old river.
Dat river she flows on and on;
Dat river she flows through my mind, To my soul.
Cottonmouth, dirty south
Mustard biscuits, shut my mouth
Down the Gulf of Mexico
Running down Casino Row
Through the miles of slot machines
Making music, chasing dreams
How far I'm going, I don't know
Ain't time to go I'm on a roll
Mississippi, Mississippi bound
Just a little place I call my home
I'm cornhood, wildwood, backwoods
Mississippi bound, y'all come on down
I can sing and play guitar
I sell myself from bar to bar
New songs, ancient rythyms
Pretty girls, go and get ?em
Young bucks, rap cats
Rednecks and white trash
Blackwater, summer breeze
Kiss the ground, I'm on my knees
Mississippi, Mississippi bound
Just a little place I call my home
I'm cornhood, wildwood, backwoods
Mississippi bound, y'all come on down
Yazoo Bayou
I tell you a thing or two
Tripping on a starfish
Someone boiling crawfish
Shrimp boats, break of day
Shining on Biloxi Bay
There is no concept of time
A Mississippi state of mind
Mississippi, Mississippi bound
Just a little place I call my home
I'm cornhood, wildwood, backwoods
Mississippi bound, y'all come on down
Mississippi bound, y'all come on down
Mississippi bound, y'all come on down
I'll see you around
©2005.
Turnip Greens
Yesterday times were hard.
In October '29.
The mills "cut out" depression came,
The economy declined.
Stocks fell down and rich men died.
Black Tuesday brought disaster.
They jumped from windows on that day,
Cause money was their master.
In the embattled south folks starved,
The barefoot masses cried.
Men rode the rails in search of work;
And honest people died.
But in the winter grew a leaf;
A bit of hope it seems.
It fed the simple country folk,
The noble turnip green.
It is a hardy little plant;
that can stand both cold and rain,
The more you pick the more it grows
The farmer was sustained.
You boil the turnip in a pot;
Accompanied by it's greens.
A little fat is also nice,
If it's within your means.
My Daddy lived a good long life,
And ate things fine and nice.
He had both steak and crawfish,
And also beans and rice.
But he was grateful to the thing;
That saved his life back then.
Turnip greens were more than food;
They were his dear sweet friend.
Somewhere there on heavens shore,
If these are things we know;
He's got a little patch of greens;
To watch, to tend, and hoe.
Old New Orleans
Written By: D. Collins 10/21/14
Back in old New Orleans long, before Katrina came.
The Wild Tchopitoulas were the neighborhood gang.
They’d come with their own personal band.
Waking everybody up before 6am.
The old New Orleans is what I remember well.
Before the levies blew, and people lived through hell.
Wherever you went, N’awlins was in the air.
It’s passion, it’s people, and it’s flare.
Being happy was the mission every day.
We replenished that with Crawfish Etouffee.
Back when the elders commanded mucho respect.
That’s the old New Orleans I will never forget.
When it rains
the grass grows greener
and thick like a forest of trees
in my back yard
Mr. Bojangles, the housecat
slowly stalks its prey
of wizard-like lizards scattering away.
With nothing but the sounds of
crickets and cicadas
heard humming now and then
as the sun begins to settle down
here in my hometown again.
Cajun land with bayou bands
alligators and crawfish pie
Sugar cane and hurricanes
enough to make one cry.
Down here south of New Orleans
near the Gulf of Mexico
where Great Blue Herons spread their wings
in a splendid, stupendous show.
Where cypress trees sway high in the breeze
and fishing is an artful dream
and turtles resting on floating logs
aren't always what they seem
If you're lucky
enough to catch a glimpse
of all these natural wonders
we're blessed
if you don't mind more rain this time
here in my Cajun backyard nest.
5 cups of heavy cream
3 cups of pureed shrimps
2 cup of crawfish
2 cups of crab meat
1 1/2 cup of cooked polish sausage( minced)
5 cups of chicken stock
1/2 cup of olive oil and flour roux( 1/2 c of flour and 1/2 olive oil cook tannish brown)
2 tablespoons of cayenne pepper
1 cup of sauteed onions
1 cup of minced celery
1 cup of red bell pepper
1/4 cup of chopped garlic
1/4 cilantro
1/2 cup of lemon juice
1/4 sherry
in a pot add roux and garlic and vegetables,
bring to a simmer
add sausage, shrimp, crab, crawfish
add sherry
add stock and allow the stock to thicken
add cream and remove from the heat.
serve with egg noodles or rice and yeast rolls.
A Good Deed Gone Bad
Of many jobs my hubby had
along with one full-time,
was pallbearer for funerals
whenever it worked fine.
One day there was a huge request
from owner of the place.
A man who died was cremated;
no next of kin to trace.
However, 'twas his dying wish
to scatter ashes wide
in local river close to home
and begged that they abide.
And so my hubby volunteered
to honor his last wish.
And to our home, he brought the urn
with Mr. James Crawfish.
Now it was winter when he passed,
the river froze with ice.
So in our den lay James Crawfish
'till weather became nice.
Then one spring day a friend we knew
took hubby with the urn
on his speed boat to ashes cast
with serious concern.
And as he did, a tail wind whipped
and ashes covered all!
His wife would never ride with him
again after that squall.
Sandra M. Haight
~9th Place~
Contest: Pink Domino
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Judged: 07/29/2016
True story except the name of deceased was changed.
Rules: Humor. Up to 7 stanzas (28 lines) with rhyme on line 2 and line 4 of each stanza plus use 8 syllables, 6 syllables, 8 syllables, 6 syllables.