Long Hot potato Poems
Long Hot potato Poems. Below are the most popular long Hot potato by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hot potato poems by poem length and keyword.
We have a brand new fire pit.
The ring is four feet wide.
Perfect for a Fall evening!
Cast iron and two feet high,
a present for hosting warmth.
Perfect for family and friends!
We have deadfall from the storms
and stumps hewn for seating.
Perfect for talk and cheer!
Bring your favorite beverage and food.
We have cozy blankets to cuddle.
Perfect for singing and laughter!
The neighbors see the flames
and bring their contributions.
Perfect for games and camaraderie!
Mom made hot potato salad and slaw.
Sally’s dad made ribs, and chili beans
Perfect for wieners and brats!
And so we sing and play and eat
and tell a few ghost stories, too.
Perfect night to have some fun!
Come join us for our bonfire!
My mother taught me many lessons
First ,about the birds and the bees
Where did I come from mommy?
Oh, I found you in a barrel of Crabs.
Her lessons in decorum were priceless
Walk always with your head held high
But not so high as to drown when it rains.
bless her heart.
She was a stickler for good posture
More so when I wore a new dress
all pretty and frilly
You walk like a drunken spider on spindly legs.
Her lessons in obedience
I’ll always remember
When I say jump, just jump
Don’t ask how high.
She taught me to choose my friends
they should reflect class and dignity
True,God said Love your neighbor as yourself
but he didn’t say, walk with the riff- raff on the street.
Her description of my hair left me baffled
I thought it was always neat
Looks as if birds have been picking out your hair
To build their nests, she often said.
She taught me to be a power to be reckoned with
With words I was to hear often
I brought you into this world
And I can take you out.
To mom, silence was a golden rule
Never ask why just do as I say
Or with one slap
I will turn your face to the back of your head.
My speech was another area she paid attention to
When I spoke her comment came swift and sure
you speak as if you have a hot potato in your mouth.
Lesson on bravery left me in tears
On the day I broke my arm
Am I going to die, mommy? I asked
Yep, like a flea squashed between your fingernails.
She replied.
I still remember these lessons, and smile
I know too that she did this to help me cope
She was the best, my mother.
White potato, Sweet potato, Hot potato, Irish.
White, sweet, hot, and Irish..
Spuds for all occasions.
We fry'em.We slice'em.We dice'em.We bake'em.
We mash'em.We hash'em.We whip'em, then dip'em.
I like'em next to my hamburger.French fried.
If you're hungry girl? Just give me a call.
Bring the knife, the fork, the plate, and you all.
We're ready for spuds, and we drink lots of suds.
The party is movin', and we're really groovin'..
So come on down, to our Irish Pub.
There's plenty of food, and loads of fun.
White potato, Sweet potato, Hot potato, Irish..
White, sweet, hot, and Irish.
Spuds for all occasions.
We fry'em.We slice'em.We dice'em.We bake'em.
We mash'em.We hash'em.We whip'em, then dip'em.
I like'em next to my hamburger.French fried.
Spuds for all occasions..
Potato-Food-Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2000,2015..ALL rights reserved..
My pen, as though wounded, bleeds,
Who on earth, its blood-flooding sound, heeds?
Tabula rasa papers turn pregnant,
Messages of peace-brim-filling excitement;
Midst clanging of shiny swords,
Who witnesses the wounded words?
Poetry is for lunatics, they say,
Might moves mountainous sway;
Blood should paint the world maps,
Dead should adorn the scull-caps;
Shells should illumine skyscrapers,
No podium for poetry-papers;
They march forward with philosophies such,
Though fear within, deadliest weapons they clutch;
Like monsters and vampires they fight,
Many, to Hades, take their flight;
Peace-poems, often, become wraps,
Of their not-so-hot-potato chaps;
My wounded heart, together with my pen, yearns,
Insane humans to realize their hate-churns;
Having battles lost and won,
Laurels of pride, heads adorn;
Losing wife, children, friends, kith-and-kin,
Sensory organs, like neon gas, brunt within;
Those survive try to trace and read the peace writings,
Die, ultimately, in perennial musings...!
28 March 2022
A Real Gender Bender
I drove on down to the grocery store
to buy myself some meat
milk and eggs and veggies
And variety of treats
When I pulled into the parking space
She was pulling out
I quickly rolled my window down
and gave a little shout
Well, she may have stopped in time
to save my poor car's fender
But what took place, after that
Was a real Gender Bender
When she got out of her car
I notice she was tall
And nothing about this lady
Would I describe as small
But a sexy hot potato
Blond hair blue eyes an all
Boobs, Butt, a nice tight waste
She could strut it all
With the flutter of her eyes
and a pucker of her lips
she strolled on over to me
hypnotizing, with her hips
As she bent down to my window
Her cleavage made me sigh
I had a feelin', of gettin' "Lucky"
'Till "HE" punched me in the eye
The home-grown potato
Came flying across the long country kitchen table.
It flew by me before I saw it.
Mom had just boiled two dozen.
We were a big family.
Dad once said he could have
Been a major league pitcher.
The potato smashed in my older brother’s face.
Suddenly I believed my dad.
I never believed what he said,
Not because he lied, but because he was angry
Most of the time.
I was only six, too young
To make such distinctions. I still doubt angry men—
Woman less so;
Hard to see the truth through enraged eyes.
The bicycle had a flat tire for days
Dad said leave it—I got it.
Seven days in a row
Only bike we could afford.
“Dad, let me fix it.”
Really, Dad!
Toss a hot potato for that?
I kept my mouth shut
Told myself, “You are only six.”
Fool or coward?
Next day I rode the bike
Over to my friend’s yard.
Its late night
Early morning
And I can't Sleep
But matter falls
In a whole heap
No longer do I ask "why?"
Turn over or try
Wish upon a time
I could dream upon a lie
Drown my blood stream
In the heaviest medication
Keep my head strong
Attempt to live long
with a heart of dedication
Watch as married couples crumble
and Divorced spouses rumble
it’s a rocky road but keep humble
Play hot potato with death
But don't fumble
If I could I change my ways
I’d live for days
React in silence
No matter what anyone says
chasing my deepest thoughts
And I'd give them up never
If I could keep my closest forever
Fractures in the ceiling
So many corrupt figures need healing
Brave hearts discouraged by sour tarts
Reaper or keeper,
We may never tell them apart
no hocus pocus
reality feels bogus
dreams zap our focus
abstract besets real locus
if for love then who woke us
chosen now woken
open sesame spoken
deepest thought broken
wilderness needs a token
perhaps heaven’s unbroken
cosmic hey presto
one very hot potato
slipped past dear plato
consciousness found ratio
fulcrums master, builds nato
/ \
/ \
/ \
By David Kavanagh
Howmanysyllables 5/7/5/7/7 x 3
03/07/2022
You perforate my normality
with snap-shots of the past.
Images of yesteryear form
a slide show which interjects,
dove-tailing, sneaking in to
the now with the stealth of
the stealthiest fox.
Distracted from the present
my mind meanders down-stream,
pausing at a bridge arched over now
and then. Remembering when I was younger,
carefree, flitting between hearts,
scattering the lovelorn in my wake
like sown seeds, lost, never harvested.
Then flippancy of youth. The transience.
Easy come easy go -
before the burden of emotion takes its toll.
My fickle fingers touched your heart -
then dropped it, hot potato-like;
craved for then petulantly discarded,
out of fashion, gone, onto the next .....
Yet here you are merging then with now.
You found me somehow, and I you.
Back to the future. Time travelled
and catapulted into familiarity.
The perforation of normality.
Present in the present with the steel
of the steeliest fox.
T.H.E.M. (The hellions employing mayhem)
Vs
U.S. (Useful slaves)
It’s always the same
The old tired game
Of them vs us
Each side making a fuss
Playing tug of war
Over the same
Sad dollar
“I need more”
“You’ll take less”
Each side holler
Nothing ever changes
It only gets worse
Our disgusting methods
Are simply a curse
Our inhumanity towards each other needs to disperse
But I know it’s a dream
Selfishness is the reign of the insane
Always looking to lay blame
It’s the hot potato game
It’s not us
It’s them
So, they say
Nobody wants to pay
Greed rules the day
It’s simply our twisted way
To lay the blame away
From our own feet
You see, misery is such a treat
To watch others, bow to the elite
A meeting nobody wants to greet
Please come in and have a seat
You wish to rent yourself?
How neat
I offer less than you need
I’m here to plant slaveries seed
You’ll reap what I sow
And never make
What you owe
But then again
That’s the trick
To keep you low
Ya prick
Here’s my boot
Take a lick
Watching you struggle
Is such a kick
This is really fun
Watching you run
Like a rat in a maze
Blinded by debts haze
And I am very aware
I create the misery you share
I simply don’t care
But to be fair
You never really had a pair
LOL
Eric (and sometimes not)