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catfish

Quotes about catfish, page 4

Dixie Lullaby (feat. Bruce Hornsby)

Clint Black & Bruce Hornsby
(Leon Russell - Chris Stainton)
Why don't you gather round me people, got a song to sing
About that sweet magnolia thyme
Black-eyed Susan made some catfish stew
And papa brought some homemade wine.
All you southern children like to rock'n roll
The TV mamas tell you why
They got it on the boat from Africa
It's that Dixie Lullaby.
Well, Blind Willie Time he had a dime shoe shine
Stand down on Beale Street
And Willie would stop and just to say hello
All the shoes he'd meet.
Why are you so happy said the clean white buck
You got no reason to be happy Mr Time
And Willie would stop and just pop his rag
With a Dixie Lullaby.
--- Instrumental ---
So now you know the story of my southern home

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Walking In Memphis

Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the delta blues
In the middle of the pouring rain w.c. handy -
Wont you look down over me yeah
I got a first class ticket
But Im as blue as a girl can be
Then Im walking in memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of beale
Walking in memphis but do I really feel the way I feel
Saw the ghost of elvis on union avenue
Followed him up to the gates of graceland
Then I watched him walk right through
Now security they did not see him
They just hovered tround his tomb
But theres a pretty little thing waiting for the king
Down in the jungle room
(chorus)
Theyre got catfish on the table
Theyre got gospel in the air

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Walkin' In Memphis

Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain W.C. Handy -
won't you look down over me Yeah
I got a first class ticket
But I'm as blue as a girl can be
Then I'm walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis But do I really feel the way I feel
Saw the ghost of Elvis On Union Avenue
Followed him up to the gates of Graceland
Then I watched him walk right through
Now secured that I did not see him
He just hovered around his tomb
But there's a pretty little thing Waiting for the King
Down in the Jungle Room
(Chorus)
They're got catfish on the table
They're got gospel in the air

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Night Owl

A catfish he tends to groove on the water
Its just where hes bound to be
And a monkey kinds of flashes on fruits and bananas
So he lives in the top of a tree
But my eyes are made for darkness
And so the nighttime is right for me
Said Im a night owl, honey
Sleep all day long
Now most folks they like the good day time
They like to see the shining sun
Theyre up in the morning
Off and running
till theyre too tired for having fun
But when the sun goes down
And them bright light shine
My daytime has just begun
Im a night owl, honey
Sleep all day long
Said turn off that bright light, baby
Youre just about to drive me blind

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Unexpected Fire, A Son's Cycle

for my father,
Major Warren Falcon, Sr.


Of Childhood Lamenting - Song of Experience


Might I sing it then?

How many stones he hauled

Not bidden but rough forced

Hand by hand from coagulate soil,

A boy's red wagon rusting

Full of spilled tumble-stones -

Unyielding stars between the rows, silent.

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With Every Wish

Ol catfish in the lake, we called him big jim
When I was a kid, my only wish was to get my line in him
Skipped church one sunday and throwd in my line
Jim took that hook, pole and me right over the side
Went drifting down past old tires and rusty cans of beer
The angel of the lake whispered in my ear
Before you chose your wish, son, youd better think first
With every wish there comes a curse
I fell in love with beautiful doreen
She was the prettiest thing this old townd ever seen
I courted her and I made her mine
But I grew jealous whenever another mand come walkin down the line
And my jealousy made me treat her mean and cruel
She sighed, bobby, oh bobby, youre such a fool
Dont you know before you chose your wish youd better think first
With every wish there comes a curse
These days I sit around and laugh at all the rivers Ive crossed
But on the far banks theres always another forest where a man can get lost
Well there in the high trees loves bluebird glides
Guiding us cross another river on the other side

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Many Years Into Yesterday

On the banks of the Mississippi,
we fished for catfish
with a bent pin on a string.
We sat in ragged trousers
patched and tied at the waist with string.
We watched the paddle steamers gorged with passengers
waving as they passed our way.
In those summer days of our childhood
many years into yesterday.
With innocent eyes,
we watched the world turn.
Saw the sadness in our daddy’s eyes,
watched the sweat run over his ebony muscles,
and heard him cry in our mammy’s arms
when a day’s work was done.
We saw the boss man whip him
under a blazing sun.
Saw the scars on indignation across his back
and heard the mournful songs they sang
at the closing of the day

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Walking In Memphis

Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
W.C. Handy - won't you look down over me
Cause I got a first-class ticket
And I'm as blue as a boy can be
Walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel
Saw the ghost of Elvis
Down On Union Avenue
Followed him up to the gates of Graceland
I watched him walk right through
Now security they did not see him
They just hovered 'round his tomb
There's a pretty little thing
Waiting on "The King"
Down in the Jungle Room

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Fish Out Of Water

I feel so out of place here
With this high society
These high fallutin people
Dont know what to make of me
I feel like a minnow in a sea of moby dicks
A small fry in a big pan
Theyre caviar -- Im fish sticks
Fish out of water
I know I dont belong
Fish out of water
Everything I do is wrong
My style of hair, the clothes I wear
The way I speak, the things I eat
The way I act, my lack of tact
Nothin seems to fit
Fish out of water
Flounderin round
Out of my element
But Im just as good as they are
Why do I feel second rate

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Some Hidden Lines of The Traveller Who Just Arrived

faraway
no one is talking to you.
you are
shuttered like an open
window

there are leaks
you cover it
with silk cloth

smooth silence
gleaming colors
of gray
like the body of
a catfish

and reddish
bloody
imagination

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Black Water

Patrick simmons
Well, I built me a raft and shes ready for floatin
Ol mississippi, shes callin my name
Catfish are jumpin
That paddle wheel thumpin
Black water keeps rollin on past just the same
Old black water, keep on rollin
Mississippi moon, wont you keep on shinin on me
Old black water, keep on rollin
Mississippi moon, wont you keep on shinin on me
Old black water, keep on rollin
Mississippi moon, wont you keep on shinin on me
Yeah, keep on shinin your light
Gonna make everything, pretty mama
Gonna make everything all right
And I aint got no worries
cause I aint in no hurry at all
Well, if it rains, I dont care
Dont make no difference to me
Just take that street car thats goin up town

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The Rising

Cant see nothin in front of me
Cant see nothin coming up behind
I make my way through this darkness
I cant feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far Ive gone
How far Ive gone, how high Ive climbed
On my backs a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile of line
Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight
Left the house this morning
Bells ringing filled the air
Wearin the cross of my calling
On wheels of fire I come rollin down here
Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

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A Brook In The City

in my heart
a river runs
alluvial, fishes,
leaves, flowers and all
a catfish winds
its way up to the surface
shows its pinkish whiskers
and round mouth
and down in a fleet second
puyu splash
their way down
after a fall
bubble, splash, bubble, splash,
big fish, small fish,
breakdance
down the river
their only way to show
joy and gratitude
for nature's care
like a gymnast

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Patrick White

Watching The Sky Turn Blue

for Steve Forster

Watching the sky turn blue
in the last hours of the night.
Up like the stars dreaming myself awake.
Insomniac watchman making the rounds
of my own private zodiac
on the graveyard shift
looking for signs of an afterlife
that’s in spiritual alignment with the pyramids.
Tabla rasa.
A clean slate.
A new day.
The world a new creation every morning.
Empty streets empty stores empty sidewalks.
The vertebrae of bridges sheathing the Tay River
like a spinal cord that’s stopped
sending messages to the brain
like wavelets and rain
to put the serpent fire out

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Ambrose Bierce

A Wreath Of Immortelles

LORING PICKERING

_(After Pope)_


Here rests a writer, great but not immense,
Born destitute of feeling and of sense.
No power he but o'er his brain desired
How not to suffer it to be inspired.
Ideas unto him were all unknown,
Proud of the words which, only, were his own.
So unreflecting, so confused his mind,
Torpid in error, indolently blind,
A fever Heaven, to quicken him, applied,
But, rather than revive, the sluggard died.

* * * * *

A WATER-PIRATE

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The Things

The house in Broad Street, red brick, with nine rooms
the weedgrown graveyard with its rows of tombs
the jail from which imprisoned faces grinned
at stiff palmettos flashing in the wind

the engine-house, with engines, and a tank
in which young alligators swam and stank,
the bell-tower, of red iron, where the bell
gonged of the fires in a tone from hell

magnolia trees with whitehot torch of bud
the yellow river between banks of mud
the tall striped lighthouse like a barber’s pole
snake in the bog and locust in the hole

worn cigarette cards, of white battleships,
or flags, or chorus girls with scarlet lips,
jackstones of copper, peach tree in the yard
splashing ripe peaches on an earth baked hard

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53

My sister saw the black cat inside my monitor
Black fur and sharp eyes
Piercing like sharp claws
Whiskers like catfish
In the mud,
It was staring at her
And felt its anger,

Of course, she did not like it,
She complains
Why of all screensavers

Anthurium (oh she loves Anthurium
Red and white anthuriums)

Or four horses, white grazing horses, brown galloping horses
For some screensavers’ lucky charm,

Why the black cat
As screensaver?

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54

My sister saw the black cat inside my monitor
Black fur and sharp eyes
Piercing like sharp claws
Whiskers like catfish
In the mud,
It was staring at her
And felt its anger,

Of course, she did not like it,
She complains
Why of all screensavers

Anthurium (oh she loves Anthurium
Red and white anthuriums)

Or four horses, white grazing horses, brown galloping horses
For some screensavers’ lucky charm,

Why the black cat
As screensaver?

[...] Read more

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“Old Miss” (A Travelers Impression)

Stepping off a late flight to Memphis,
we made our way through the stony-silence
of a nearly empty terminal…a far cry from
other big city airports (“I like it here already! ”)

Met by family at the security gate and after baggage claim
we soon were driving south. Our final destination,
Saltillo, Mississippi, a small town near Tupelo,
birthplace of Elvis Presley.

The darkness of night prevented us from seeing
the landscape, this would have to wait until tomorrow.
We awakend to the cooing of mourning doves and our
adventure in the “Deep South” was about to unfold.

The next few days were a plethora of people and events;

It was late May with daytime temperatures in the mid eighties.
It cooled down nicely after sunset. The humidity
was comfortable, nothing like expected.

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Screensaver

My sister saw the black cat inside my monitor
Black fur and sharp eyes
Piercing like sharp claws
Whiskers like catfish
In the mud,
It was staring at her
And felt its anger,

Of course, she did not like it,
She complains
Why of all screensavers

Anthurium (oh she loves Anthurium
Red and white anthuriums)

Or four horses, white grazing horses, brown galloping horses
For some screensavers’ lucky charm,

Why the black cat
As screensaver?

[...] Read more

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