Best Mashed Poems


Premium Member These Mashed Potatoes Are Bleeding

“These mashed potatoes are bleeding,” the six-year old said.
I looked at them, curiously.  
A white mound with a bit of yellow.
No gravy or ketchup.
A curious observation, I thiought,
pondering it.
“Just go with it, Grandma,” her nine-year-old sister told me.
So I did.

Premium Member Lumpy mashed potatoes

as much as she whipped 
never could get the lumps out 
meal time at Grandma's

Mashed'''',,,, Squished and Stitched----

Sighs yet again

a fold here,
a crease there

origami wings
that are limp,
drenched

looking pretty lonely and pathetic
under, that, crying, sky, , , ,
                               , , , ,


/////

It ironically fits well
into the day that is filled with cracks, 
     that spills into the evening----
s h a t t e r e d   eggshells 
                  that can't be beared to be buried,
only placed carefully with the dried leaves...

If only for a moment,
I keep my cradle of tears at bay,
as I let the moon do the weeping for me.


A mental tracking back
of the weeks, days, hours, minutes;
Let the scientist return to inference

Walk back to the time of hope and grief--
The dendrobium. The grasshoppers. The twisted bonsai.

Looking behind,
the footprints
are still there... .   .   .    ..

Wash them away 
with waves of laughter,
Erase all vestiges of me.


Forget I was ever here;
that should be easy

...I never meant much to you anyway





214a22801012016

This is a mash-up of sorts of several writes of mine. I stitched it up with some lines. Very rough, I know, just felt like squishing some of my writes & edits together.


Mashed Taters

Mashed Taters

Creamy buttery goodness drenched in thick meaty gravy, yum

Thanks4giving Me Reason To Write Mish Mashed Gobbledygook

this own lee bro' thar of yars 
   dashed analogously graced
on par how a marathon runner raced
to Macbook Pro laptop computer post haste 

soon as he goat back 
   to his domicile nestled and encased
in the bucolic, democratic, 
   and fantastic spit non defaced

woodland partially hydrogenated oils baste
surrounding Highland Manor Apartment our ace
in the hole, whence he i.e. mice elf 
   (Matty Mouse) with threads of gratitude laced

within a feeble attempt 
   to burble, cobble, fiddle, easy as gravy, 
   an insrutable letter placed
in the output queue 

   soon as all 
   the typo O graphical errors erased
and, though struggle to convey love 
   for such an endearing older sister, 

   which digitally squawking, 
   aye did not cut and paste
boot doth admit to allowing, 
   a saucy bit of small potatoes sayest 

   in ma trademark (truemark) 
   stuffing of fluffernutter (that taste)
G---R---R---E---E---A---A---T 
   (courtesy of flaky Tony the corny tiger), 
   which gimmerish aims to waste

juiced spare moments, 
   and tubby direct, earnest and frank
lemme communicate without resorting 
   to caginess, 

   but free roaming thoughts to thank
ye and Rich for welcoming a small group 
   of family and friends 
   to your Woodbury, New Jersey abode, 
page number two:
   
   somewhat near Redbank
to relish the salad days of times gone by, 
   when as kids, 
   we tricked each other with a harmless prank

such as hiding a fuzzy wuzzy Willie, 
   or scaring the other 
   with the molded Creepy People that doth rank
as laughably innocent, these topsy turvy times, 

   when faith no more 
   eroded cameraderie 
   among fellow Americans to tank
especially as the world wide web 

   iz going to fill in the BLANK
thus moments to share 
   a tasty repast did help me to crank
out this artichoked gibberish, 
   which when placed 
   atop pyramid of cranberries sank.
  
as didst this heart of darkness 
   within soul asylum 
   of papa and momma genes
to two beautiful young women 
   re: daughters, whose absence 

   felt as gloomy fiends
similar to the Ogre encountered, 
   when goose that laid golden egg stolen
   by Jack of beanstalk 
   of story book fame as a cash cow means.

Mashed Potatoes and Gravy Train (

Well we certainly did it last night
When we went grocery shopping, there was a slight oversight
The dog will not eat his regular feast out of the bag under the sink
But he won't go thirsty, he will have plenty to drink
He's a good old boy, he will not complain
We're having Meatloaf, Mashed Potatoes topped with the dog's Gravy Train
The chunks seemed to soften as they were put on the stove to bring out the flavor
The family will find out if it is something a person would savor
The smell was quite odd, not bad, not good, just odd
Maybe this would be gourmet in some areas abroad
As the kids sit the table, with the plates all the trimmings
The secret item is reduced to simmering
Everyone is ready to hear about the brown chunky stuff on the potatoes, I begin to 
explain
We forgot our usual Mc Cormick's instant, so we had to Fido's Gravy Train
Everyone at the table looked at one another
I hand the first plate to their mother
The next serving I passed to our daughter of  age three
Then the next one came to me
I took one bite, the chunk shimmied down the throat
My stomach instantly began to  bloat
The three year old took a bite and passed gas with the sound of a Whooping 
Crane
Needless to say we gave Fido back his Gravy Train


Brains of Mashed Potatoes

My heartbeat’s wrath
Pitter pat, pat
When I see the house that
We used to love in.
Now all worn and broken.
The tortures of the used to be’s
And haunting memories
Mangle my mind into mashed potatoes.
Who will know more woes
Than those with brains of mashed potatoes?

Premium Member Mr Spud head gets mashed

Mr Spud Head is wearing a frown
Some eejit stole his wife’s best gown
His wife who’s called Myrtle
Looks like a gross turtle
Spud’s concerned that the chips are down

They’re going out, Myrtle gets dressed
But Spud Head sees she looks depressed
Her old gown doesn’t fit
And mis-shapes her left tit
She’s crying and looking distressed

Poor Spud Head must think on his feet
He whips off their king size bed sheet
Wife’s bod won’t be seen
Cos it’s Halloween
He’s keeping watch on what she’ll eat

There’s excellent news about Myrtle
She no longer looks like a turtle
Myrtle went on a diet
Spud insisted she try it
To ‘platewatchers’ she will now hurtle!

Thanks 4 Giving Me Reason To Write Mish Mashed Gobbledygook

written few years ago
preceding breakup of first born offspring   
and her Puerto Rican born beau,
when existence of averred progeny did flow
smooth and minimally disrupted
she exhibited countenance with radiant glow.
 
recalling family feast of yore
before
COVID-19 wreaked havoc and tore
fabric of civilization
global impact great as third world war.

this own lee brother of yours 
dashed analogously graced
on par how a marathon runner raced
to Macbook Pro laptop computer post haste 

soon as he got back 
to his domicile nestled and encased
in the bucolic, democratic, 
and fantastic spit (tune) of land marginally defaced

woodland partially hydrogenated oils baste
surrounding Highland Manor Apartment our aced
in the hole, whence he i.e. mice elf 
(Matty Mouse) with threads of gratitude laced

within a feeble attempt 
to burble, cobble, fiddle, easy as gravy, 
an inscrutable letter placed
in the output queue 

soon as all 
the typo O graphical errors erased
and, though struggle to convey love 
for such an endearing older sister, 

which digitally squawking, 
aye did not cut and paste
boot doth admit to allowing, 
a saucy bit of small potatoes sayest 

in ma trademark (truemark) 
stuffing of fluffernutter (that taste)
G---R---R---E---E---A---A---T 
(courtesy of flaky Tony the corny tiger), 
which gibberish aims to waste

Thanks 4 Giving Me Reason To Write Mish Mashed Gobbledygook

juiced spare moments, 
and tubby direct, ernest and frank
lemme communicate without resorting 
to caginess, 

but NON GMO, gluten free roaming thoughts to thank
ye (Amelie Beth), and Rich McGeehan 
for welcoming a small group 
of family and friends 
to your Woodbury, New Jersey abode, 
   
somewhat near Redbank
to relish the salad days of times gone by, 
when as kids residing in Audubon 
or Collegeville, Pennsylvania, 
we tricked each other with a harmless prank

such as hiding a fuzzy wuzzy Willie, 
or scaring the other 
with the molded Creepy People that doth rank
as laughably innocent, these topsy turvy times, 

when faith no more 
eroded camaraderie among village people
unity withal fellow Americans did tank
especially as the world wide web 

iz going necessitate thee
to fill in the BLANK
thus moments to share 
a tasty repast did help me to crank
out this artichokes gibberish, 
which when placed 
atop pyramid of cranberries sank.
  
as didst this heart of darkness 
within soul asylum 
of papa and momma genes
to two beautiful young women 
re: daughters, whose absence 

felt as gloomy fiends
similar to the Ogre encountered, 
when goose that laid golden egg stolen
by Jack and beanstalk 
of story book fame as a cash cow means.

Mashed

Darkness and light merged into one,
Nothing seems right yet nothing is wrong.
A beautiful sunrise, a brand new day.
The buildings in-front are all bombed away.

The beginning is far, the end is near,
Every body lives in fear.
Today is gone and tomorrow isn’t coming,
Someone catch the knifes we’re throwing.

The children are lying dead in the street,
The guns are looking for fresh, new meat.
Close the curtains, no time for guilt,
Setting fire to houses, watching them melt.

The waves of life are all crashing down,
Lifeless bodies all around.
Why the need for all the violence?
We need a voice to break the silence.

Premium Member Mashed Up

instant potatoes
rehydrated with gravy
cranberry jelly
slaughter of the innocent
soybeans shaped into turkey

11/9/2021
A THANKSGIVING TANKA Poetry Contest

Used HMS

Premium Member Rainbow Gravy On Mashed Potatoes

Rainbow gravy on mashed potatoes
Invented by angel only knows.
It’s on my plate, and it truly glows.
Formed into trees, and two distinct toes.

Cousin loved it, she ate her’s and Joe’s.
I pass my plate over, and eat my jellos.
Rainbow gravy on mashed potatoes.
Where is the cook? Which one of you knows?

How did he make this gravy that incredibly glows?
Is that his homemade chocolate syrup that aptly flows?
And who added on my tray this gorgeous rose?
I will never again eat gravy without rainbows.

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