Potato Poems - Poems about Potato

Packed with starch, protein Provided for many People called 'earth apple' Placed at gold value once Potassium rich veg Peruvian produce Peel, slice, fry and enjoy...

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The old ‘Pass-Punt-Kick’ contest misappropriated by politicos You’re familiar with the stereotype the kind who check which way the wind blows Like a hot potato they pass...

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Potato latkes, fried in oil Are eaten every year When calendars remind us That our holiday is here. To keep up the tradition, There are choices we must make – Buy them frozen in the market, Use a mix (that’s a mistake!) Find them in a local diner Or, if you have time and space, Gather all of the ingredients And your cookware in one...

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Children would almost live in peace how grass, how glass, how the something OK how the adolescent is bold and curious and sometimes like cat and thought of some diseases?. ...

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A ghost-flitted out of the refrigerator today. He smelled like potato salad. Had he been eating it? Or was he born in it? The ghost looked right at me. Gave me a diabolical smile. For the first time ever. I was terrified by the smell of potato salad....

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i have a craving today my tongue salivates a crinkling yellow bag i tear it open salty and sour potato chips...

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The savings could social work buy Yet Defund Police we won't try That plan seemed too rash But Trump’s agent Kash Would trash and defund FBI...

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Just a small piece of time For a little peace of mind. I’m piecing it all together While I sit comatose Viewing the News in disbelief. Disgusted, I divert my attention To the puzzle of Leonardo de Vinci’s The Last Supper. And I mumble to myself, “Jesus, what in the world is going on?" I reach...

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Daddy potato head was using his hoe in a wicked way Chopping up parsley and rhubarb, throwing it past Monday Tuesday did not like it, it is shriveled and dried up he said. Daddy Potato head did not realize he was making them dead....

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The grandfather on my mother's side was a cheapskate. A real cheapskate. One Christmas, he gave me a used paperback book. Something like “Jimmy Plays Baseball.” It was written for a 7 year old child, and I was considerably older than that. Still had “5 cents” written in pencil on the first page. No foolin'. Asked he, “You ever read...

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I have a skin, brown tan melolin Inside of me is water, energy I have nodes from which buds are formed I am shapeN like a football, a peanut, a fat lumpy carrot I may develop sprouting, buds, green spots I may be spoilage, not cause my parents giving me everything I ask Interspersed in a tubular, vallecular If for I am...

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Laying on the couch long enough your bottom side looks like a prune...

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Daddy potato head was using his hoe in a wicked way Chopping up parsley and rhubarb, throwing it past Monday Tuesday did not like it, it is shriveled and dried up he said. Daddy Potato head did not realize he was making them dead....

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Pat the potato just sat in the ground Wondering if he would ever be found He couldn’t see anything there in the earth So spent his days praying for all he was worth Then the ground heaved as a metal spade dug And Pat knew that soon he’d be snug as a bug A new human home is what life is...

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You're looking hot Deceptive skin I lust to know your Soft within A slice in two Reveals your soul Accompanied With salad bowl I scoop away Your very heart Combine with cheesy joy To start Then pop you back In skin replace Moments before I stuff my face For veggies first That is the rule As rhyme destroys 'Poetic cool' Often prejudged By outer shell By those who know you Less than well And yet, potato Your simple...

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