Long Potato Poems
Long Potato Poems. Below are the most popular long Potato by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Potato poems by poem length and keyword.
In the arctic frozen sky of the enchanting land the midnight sun
leans on the horizon briefly in bright summer and again it rises,
I didn’t know when a new day actually would have or had begun.
The frosty sky in winter night burns in flashes of aurora borealis.
The North Sea stretches the long arms through the blue fjords,
the visible heritage of the glacial deep scoop of the Pleistocene,
dissects the corrugated coastline as if sliced by the Viking sword.
I was held captive there for a long time by the magnificent scene.
To unravel the petrified mysteries of the Nordic Caledonian rocks
I crossed many dales and ridges of the geologic arc west of Bergen,
walked for days across the uninhabited islands where eagles flock.
In the cold crystal rains the shelter of the ancient caves I had taken.
On my travel I stayed a number of days in Lyderhorn, a small village
overlooking the tranquil turquoise waters of the narrow Loddefjord.
A gracious lady of the pretty house, Julia Aasen in her advanced age
gave me a furnished room at a rent that at the time I could afford.
She used to invite me for dinner at her place almost every evening,
offered me plate full of peppered boiled potato and hot fiskeboller,
slices of brown bread she baked with thick Jerlsberg cheese topping,
showed fondly the faded pictures of her late husband, a fish seller.
Time came to leave and say heart-felt ‘tusen tak’ on a freezing day.
She presented me a pair of woolen gloves she had specially knitted.
Years later when I wear these her frail touch they remotely convey,
I feel the warm heart of Julia of Norway although she has departed.
September 28, 2017.
FOOD FIGHT
YEAH! Yum I am sittin at the dining room table;
Smelling all them aromas of mom's Christmas coarses;
Moving hands arms and mouths of all the children voices;
Fidgeting, shirring wanting to pass over dinner
let's eat the coconut pie from Aunt Mable;
And Oh! yeah yum I can still picture that mill;
On table waz meets turkees, hams, wit' right and brown gravy's;
Warmth smell breads all types there waz hole wheat, white,
also waz sum hot butter-korn bread;
A side diss of jellies and jambs;
And real fo real butter
Vegetable's
Galore
Hole Cornel Korn, Pees, beats, karats,
salads sprinkle with salt N pepper and time;
And after all this, no fish;
Wit all this,
waz left, but dessert yum we eight homemaid kakes with flower,
yeah, and yum even had sum suite potato pi;
All this good Flavers Sights;
And yumming invites;
Kin folk babies whine;
All these foods in sight;
Man this ate write;
Ahh! stomach eights, eight to much Oooh!!!
Must be sum food fight;
For Contest: FOOD FIGHT
Sponsored by: Viv Wigley
SUMMER MYSTERY--
Summer time wishes;
Ice cream cooks upon the grill;
Bags of ice in cooler;
Raw hot dogs in water;
Ants are all excited;
Summer mystery;
Just what does it mean?
Bottle rockets, fireworks 4th of July;
Summer time wishes;
Potato salad;
Watermelon brew;
Hamburgers made from pig, oink
Summer mystery;
Just what does it mean?
Bottle rockets, fireworks 4th of July;
Sack races in boxes;
Cats chasing frogs;
Dogs eating fries I’m excited;
Dirty lake water;
Children holler;
What’s the use?
Running to and fro up and down the hills they go..
Must be summer;
Summer mystery;
Just what does it mean?
Bottle rockets, fireworks 4th of July;
6/24/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Please enjoy this fictional imagining of my lunch at CayCay's, inspired by the realization that there are some subtle differences in our food tastes.
Who should I have the pleasure to meet?
Why, CayCay, who invited me over to eat,
where she nicely offered me a seat -
"Have some pig's feet! You may choose
to have them with or without shoes."
"I'll take the shoes, but hold the laces",
I said, as I tried to not to make weird faces,
but I was thinking, "leaping lizards",
when she dished out chicken gizzards.
Just about then, I was ready for walkin'
when she served up cornbread. Now we're talkin' -
grits, and hominy and sweet potato pie!
I can't wait till next time I'll be stoppin' by.
Gaelic: it was my mother's native tongue,
and her grandmother’s elder tongue.
Grandfather was a Romani gypsy,
horses naturally understood his voice.
My lips follow English,
a tangled language with too many roots,
tuberosities awkwardly clumped together,
like hard and lumpy potato soup -
a dish My Irish mother made
with an inattentive gusto...
her pink tongue licking the corners of her mouth,
as she slopped the part-cooked pottage out
into thick porcelain bowls.
She had quite forgotten her mother tongue,
or how to respect the potato,
and its historical significance to all in exile.
My own tongue was young and tender,
and too hungry to care. Already I instinctively knew
how to take my lumps.
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.
Families sat together when I was young
Ate popcorn had fun….
Around the coffee table we’ whine
Pass the chips gimme mine!
Black and white TV had just come to town
The neighbor had it, it was around.
But, oh the board games we’d play
Parcheesi, dominoes, monopoly!
We’d all sit on the floor on that mustard shag rug
My bratty little sister would get all the cat’s hugs.
The bowl of potato chips would be twixt Dad’s knees
And Mommy would ask to pass the bowl please.
Babe our dog would nose all the pieces
And the monopoly money would get covered with greases??
Boy, we’d laugh cause it always seemed
Baby brother would get thrown in jail, double-teamed.
Well, we never did get rich
But you know what’s funny?
I’d give anything…..
Anything for one more chance
At family…and that Monopoly money!
Monopoly the Game of Life
D. Guzzi
so I went on a diet,
I wanted to lose 30 pounds,
I must have gained 100 when I joined up with them clowns.
No more chocolate in the morning,
or even late at night,
No more ice cream in the evening,
Before I say good night.
No fast food on the weekends,
Hamburgers and French fries,
No more sneaking potato chips,
No more little lies.
No pancakes for breakfast,
They are just way to fat,
No more chicken with BBQ sauce,
Id give it to my cat.
No more pizza for supper,
Sausage pepperoni and what not,
I have to empty my refrigerator out of all things I bought.
This diet really sucks now,
I really want to eat,
so I sneak a snickers bar and admit my defeat.
This will blow your mind -
My Breakfast Potato - mmmm
Culinary skills!
Memories of you
Is like microwaving food -
Jam-packed with sweet carbs...
Threw butter in pan...
It sizzles...in yellow bliss!
Future food doused too
Baked some potatoes
I am a creative cook
Geek from head to toe
Sprinkled it with eggs
Lotsah cheese and lotsah spice
Then, topped with sour cream
I did the cookin'
I broke both legs, making it -
Father in trainin'
Washed pans, stove-ready
Made eggs to perfection - RAD
A nat'ral cook - mmmm!
Breathe in and breathe out
Get ready for bizarre plates -
Spread butter on toast!
It's time to dine fine
Expect the unexpected -
Clean slate on platter
I'm scorching in flame
I'm a burnt potato...true...
Turning to ash...lame...
Creativity
Is required to make delish! (A delicious dish)
This hobby thrills...all... (Meaning we like cooking or we like tasting food)
roll your puff pastry into a large disc.
make sure it cover to bottom of a
spring form pan. use extra to cover
all sides.
layer slices of boiled potatoes around interior
of the pastry dough
using a mixture
of butter and truffle oil
to coat: layer slices of pancheeta over the
potato slices and set aside
in a bowl mix
1/3 cups of heavycream
2 tablespoons of flour
1 cup of softned butter
1 teaspoon of dill
3 tablespoons of lemon juice
3 tablespoons of truffle oil
1 tablespoon of chopped thyne
1 teaspoon of chopped chives
1 teaspoon of cayeene pepper
1 teaspoon of ground nutmeg
1/4 congac
1/2 cup of grated mozzerolia
1/2 shredded swiss
1/2 chopped provolone
1 cup of softened goat cheese
1/2 cup of pareseam grated
2 eggs
1/2 cup of toasted pumkin seeds
1 cup of deep fried grapes
mix well and set aside
in a pan saute 7 leeks in oilive oil
with 1/2 cup of diced yellow peppers
4 cloves of garlic
cook until tranlucent
cover panchetta
and top with cheese
mixture
bake for 40 mintues on 350 degrees until done
Serve with a Peppery Watercrest Salad.
A salad with cream cheese and mozzorla in mashed avacDOS
WITH ORANGWE SECTINS
AND PISTASHIOS AND CANDIED GINGER
COVERED WITH A CHAMPENGE vINERGRETTE
AND A
tURKEY CUTLETS DEEPFRIED WITH
A cHEETO BREADCRUMD CRUST.
Or roasted red snapper