My dad was a meat and potatoes man
Stuff like quiche, wine and cheese he couldn’t stand
Mom once served him Chinese
Dad said, “Mom, if you please
Dump that lo mein in a foreign trash can”
My friends are like potatoes,
They can be salty or sweet.
They can be too much of everything,
Or nothing all at once.
My friends are like potatoes,
They can go soft if they know you,
Usually their skin isn’t thick,
And they’ll try to get through you.
My friends are like potatoes,
They’ve grown from nothing.
Sometimes I get greedy and keep them to myself,
But I cant finish much in one sitting.
My friends are like potatoes,
You can try them in multiple ways.
But be careful how you sharpen your knife,
Because they too, have a blade.
meat and potatoes were my Daddy’s meals
mac and cheese are for other heels
he slathered ketchup on every piece of meat
liking a dessert, anything insanely sweet
pizza? no. tacos? absolutely not
and he did not like cake that was store-bought
Daddy was picky about what he’d eat
every meal needed meat and something sweet
I love mashed potatoes
with salt and pepper
with peas, corn or carrots
with creamy sausage gravy
you can keep that brown gravy for someone else
I love mashed potatoes
rolled up into balls and covered in chocolate
presented as candy
I will eat them with ketchup or Heinz 57
There has never been a mashed potato I would not eat
We're goin' out to Idaho where the potatoes grow
honey we're leavin' quite soon
but if you call it quits then I've had my chips
and like the wolf I'll be a-howlin' at the moon
I'm over this Sunshine State yeah I can hardly wait
baby we're leaving at noon
but if you say 'No way!' and you wanna stay
like the wolf I'll be a-howlin' at the moon
if we don't go to Idaho where the potatoes grow
darlin' don't know what I'll do
I can't stand the strain it's drivin' me insane
and like the wolf I'm a-howlin' at the moon
if we load the luggage in the car
and hit the road it ain't that far
no it ain't so far to go
we'll be there before you know
and I won't be a-howlin' at the moon
please don't let me down don't turn this dream around
'cause you don't need to hear me
howlin' like the wolf a-howlin' at the moon
Culinary creativity
and experimentation
"Smashed potatoes...
I garnish them basil
Partially douse in salt"
Sensory delight
and pleasure
"Boredom in the water...
Popped and butter
What a tasty substance"
Joy and satisfaction
"Numb, numb yum mashed
Creative and playful
Expression of culinary delight
And the joy of cooking
3/22/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2024
Scriptural reinforcement
- 1 Corinthians 10:31: "So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God."
- Deuteronomy 8:10: "When you have eaten and are full, then you shall bless the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you."
- Acts 2:46: "Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts."
It is all good until they grow eyes and watch you
O'Rourke has left Ireland with all he owns in a knapsack.
He is going to America with sunshine at his back.
The Irish soil is dotted with potatoes now turned black.
O'Rourke has left Ireland and he is never coming back.
Amongst the rotting potatoes, a seed has begun to sprout.
On the stem shall a four leaf clover grow, surely there's no doubt.
Soon the rot will disappear. Ireland's luck will turn about.
But O'Rourke is gone for good. Raise a mug and give a shout.
as much as she whipped
never could get the lumps out
meal time at Grandma's
The potatoes are cooling in a pretty blue dish.
Looking like hillside stones or sleeping piglets.
While waiting for the litter to cool off.
I thought about the many wars being fought...
On our beautiful blue planet of the newly forsaken.
Millions of innocent lives selfishly taken.
How much money and time have been wasted.
Lobbing bombs into robin's-egg skies, no wells of life being dug.
No mustard seeds planted, while white crosses are sown.
From which nothing but heartache ever grows.
The potatoes in the pretty blue dish have cooled enough to eat.
Wars tend to harden over time and will never cease to be.
Plantin' the Garlic and the Potatoes
I can only Hope in the Heirloom Tomatoes
The Daisies push up well past the Day
With Evan Porter sleepin' outside in the Fray
Charlie ' s in a row out at the plant
And Grandma Moses is lookin' for Dry Land
The Ocean washes up the Effervescent Shore
And taxes those who bore
And set out upon the Whistlin Waves
To find her that went beyond the pale
God's holy Ghost in Pale moon shroud
With gatherin' Girls lost and Found
My favorite vegetable is a potato
I will eat it fried, filleted, with salt and pepper.
Bring me butter
That won’t be enough
Some people add cheese.
I am not interested in that, unless it is cheddar
shaved, on the top of sour cream and chives.
Yes, I love a baked potato loaded and potatoes scalloped
I adore French fries, also made from the beautiful potato.
I dip them into barbeque sauce or honey mustard.
Keep the ranch to yourself, I have never liked it.
A sweet potato is not the same. You can have it.
Unless it is loaded with cinnamon and brown sugar.
But wait, let’s get back to my favorite which is the potato.
I like potato soup, I love potato salad. I like potatoes in my chili.
I love corn and butter with salt and pepper over a potato.
I like beef and noodles over mashed potatoes.
I like potatoes smashed, bashed and dashed.
Give me a potato in any form.
I love them all.
Potatoes forever if you ask me!
Potatoes And Mushrooms
Fries are not only deep-fried sticks to which nothing permanent connects
But also, what happens when a person makes some serious mistakes.
And a way to eat however many potatoes a person wants to in one sitting
Even after a couple of inconvenient but needed fittings
Steaks are better for people than snakes especially at lakes regardless of who bakes but sometimes more fat than meat -although maybe not in sweet old Crete Maybe that doesn't bother a Pete or a Skeeter - however it does bother me even without bees.
The hatred of mushrooms is sometimes based on uncorrected misconceptions but they make poor brooms for bedrooms and awful grooms-not to mention bad brides but they are pretty good stuffed, as are potatoes!
Couch potatoes never see the light,
Seldom produce real potatoes,
Or much else that is palatable.
They leave switches on 24 seven,
And don't know what is the purpose of an off switch,
Resulting in bed sores,
Though they seldom get as far as the bed.
It is only the sight of grandchildren,
That is likely to shift them,
Into second gear,
And look for a cake of soap,
Along with a clean face cloth,
To wash the sleep out of their eyes,
So they can find their way to the shower.
If all this happens,
They might even dust the cobwebs off the cake mixer,
And produce something resembling a birthday cake.
So, if your parents are couch potatoes,
You know what you have to do,
If you ever want to see a plate of,
Sausages, peas, corn, mashed potatoes,
Lashings of gravy and tomato sauce ever again,
With carrot cake for dessert,
Followed by potato or elderberry wine,
Perhaps.
There is no time to delay,
As you might not get it right the first time,
And couch potatoes are notorious for,
Checking out early.
Now is the time to shut down the computer,
Or gaming console,
And make your partner's
Day or night.
Mole would have been a gardener,
but he just couldn’t see.
He was consigned to dig and dig
and wander aimlessly.
But then a woodland faerie
popped him upon the snout,
gave him a bulbous brownish thing,
told him to let it sprout.
She said, when you can feel the shoots,
then cut it into chunks,
and bury them deep in the ground,
and wait a couple months.
He didn’t quite believe her,
but much to his surprise,
that idaho did start to grow,
and now he’s got his eyes.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.