#potato
I didn't expect to find some of my closest friends in a group chat full of missionary kids from around the world.
I didn't expect to fall for someone who kept waiting while I loved someone else.
I didn't expect to finally meet some friends from that group chat at a night market.
I didn't expect to call with the one I fell for to practice a presentation and then talk for half an hour after, just the two of us.
I didn't expect to sign up for a summer program at a college with a girl who's almost just like me.
I didn't expect to spam Josiah Queen lyrics into the chat of someone who likes his music just as much as I do.
I didn't expect a group of people who make it seem like I have a shot with the one I love.
I didn't expect to become friends with someone who annoys the chunk out of me.
I didn't expect to find a group of friends that is so supportive and loving all in one place.
I didn't expect any of this.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 9:25 PM UTC
Einstein was right
time is like a relative
you don’t like.
I planted a potato
certain it’s tree
would shade me eventually
I chained myself
to the opinion of others
then misplaced the key
I armored myself
to avoid love’s pain
and rusted in solitude
.
.
A song for this:
Sacrifice by The Weeknd
French Navy by Camera Obscura
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 12:23 PM UTC
Act Won
Heroes said, a photo is coy...
Tell me another, a change of cunning
Into me, the seen, seem; is a shared deem, slow...
Act Too
Heroines lead, a seriouser work
Job's, wishes, sour notes in the rue
Of care callousness, to see the world irked...
Act Tree
Heiring salt, to a wish in the first place...
Sense and secret's, together to leave with me?
Is a whole, future, you see in the swallow of prayers?
Jan 22
Jan 22, 2026 at 6:05 PM UTC
There once was a rosy tomato
Who fell for a russet potato,
And, coming together
In unusual weather,
They created a baby topato.
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 1:54 PM UTC
What is this great fruit?
All of life's bounty, in this one root.
The apple of the earth;
From the dirt it doth birth.
Bake, roast, mash,
All else goes to the trash.
The potato's taste is so fine,
Its versatility? Just divine.
***** fries, tossed in pies,
Potatoes are the best, no compromise.
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Celtic Cross at Île Grosse
by Michael R. Burch
“I actually visited the island and walked across those mass graves [of 30,000 Irish men, women and children], and I played a little tune on me whistle. I found it very peaceful, and there was relief there.” – Paddy Maloney of The Chieftans
There was relief there,
and release,
on Île Grosse
in the spreading gorse
and the cry of the wild geese . . .
There was relief there,
without remorse
when the tin whistle lifted its voice
in a tune of artless grief,
piping achingly high and longingly of an island veiled in myth.
And the Celtic cross that stands here tells us, not of their grief,
but of their faith and belief—
like the last soft breath of evening lifting a fallen leaf.
When ravenous famine set all her demons loose,
driving men to the seas like lemmings,
they sought here the clemency of a better life, or death,
and their belief in God gave them hope, a sense of peace.
These were proud men with only their lives to owe,
who sought the liberation of a strange new land.
Now they lie here, ragged row on ragged row,
with only the shadows of their loved ones close at hand.
And each cross, their ancient burden and their glory,
reflects the death of sunlight on their story.
And their tale is sad—but, O, their faith was grand!
Keywords/Tags: Ile Grosse, Celtic, Cross, faith, belief, grief, Ireland, potato, famine
Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 2:46 AM UTC
From the grand expanse of the sky
To the unreached depth of the sea
Every stone, every tree
Every bone, every seed
That I know is hard to fathom
But somehow you must believe
Pathways right through the middle of town
Lead directly to an open door
But we were not worried that the rain was falling
No we were not worried if the rain was falling
Sometimes dealing with the truth is painful
But in the truth there is love
Every word despite the world
Every word and each heart beat
That I know is not so simple
But somehow you must believe
Arrow shot forth in a million different ways
Aimed directly at your heart
And a moment you could feel that the rain was falling
Take a moment we can feel the way the rain is falling
The rain is falling
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 3:29 AM UTC
Potatoism...?
I've met myself a potatoist
She claims she is, so all over it
She likes potatoes, she said she does
If she eats too many she goes all a buzz
I'm not really sure how the subject arose
I only just know, that it did, I suppose
Potatoism is the word that she said
A potatoist eats potatoes and potatoism will spread....
Jelly, my Granddaughter, is the young Potatoism Potatoist.
Got to love a new word....
Brian Hill - 2020 # 22
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 10:26 AM UTC
I am a royal potato whose shape is a perfect oval,
My fame is so widespread that everyone knows me from the stars to Mars.
This uncontrollable charm I exude is so novel,
that even the queens and kings before me grovel.
Even though this tale may not seem real,
I would still appreciate if you would go to my palace just to say hello.
These days, times have been hard, for the invincible McDonalds has
been winning countless victories.
My young comrades from the north have been skinned and stripped to pieces.
My amazing xylophone that would make the zealous moon jealous has been
burnt in the fire and trampled in the mire.
We must push for the rights of potatoes
Just like the tomatoes
Whose fire and concept of equality
Has driven hungry humans to see reality.
If it was them in the frying pan,
Would it still excite them to ignite
The fire that burns so painfully bright?
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 9:46 AM UTC
I sit and eat potato chips
on my couch in front of tv
I am a cannibal
sofa surfing
channel hopping
media crawling
it's the only exercise
I get these days
too busy observing
to join in
my critical critique
leaves me astounded
as to how absurd the world can be
missed penalties and opportunities
keep me ranting
panting in disbelief
reality isn't reality tv
everybody becomes an actor you see
they're just not famous
enough yet to be celebrity
one of these days I'll make the news
headline report with shocking footage
couch potato ate himself to death
binging on a 52 inch flat screen.
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC
MA POTATO BRINGS ALL DA BOYS TO DA YARD
AND THEY'RE LIKE
"ITS BETTER THEN YOURS"
DANG RIGHT, ITS BETTER THEN YOURS
I CAN MASH IT, BUT I GOTTA CHARGE
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 10:59 AM UTC
Rice gruel
did wet the
potato crisp.
Dried chili powder
was mixed with
flattened rice
powder to
bring tears in a
fancy dress competitive
child's eyes.
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
In the water that serpents drink and fishes mate in,
humans clean their pots.
The water drinks that dirt and oil,
it savours that hint of turmeric and burnt potato skin. It's a complete meal.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
My life
is ashing
this pipe
into a leftover
cardboard
5 star resort
mashed potato box;
Last week’s banquet,
Three days rotten.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
Admit it.
That you're a potato that grows underneath the soil.
Admit it.
That your roots have been spreading along within earth.
Admit it.
That nobody has tried to dig a hole.
Admit it.
That one day, you'll grow beneath the ground.
Admit it.
That you'll grow stronger roots and eventually a branch.
Admit it.
That you'll grow into a big, tall tree.
Acknowledge it,
starting from beneath the ground, you will gain even stronger roots to hold you up until now.
The planted roots, to support you,
that has grown into a bigger tree, heading up towards the blue sky.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 5:57 AM UTC
He never looked
He never saw who I am,
neither reached deep down from what I felt
or is it me
who never took courage
who never said a word
just a fine-looking potato ranting
while eating a piece of gourd.
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 7:53 PM UTC
(sorry, but not sorry)
There once was a potato plant,
(Because potatoes grow on plants...)
This plant harvested baby potatoes.
This was no ordinary potato plant, however,
It was SPECIAL!
Anywho, the plant grew several baby potatoes,
Who were harvested and shipped on a crate to a grocery store
in a cold, dark shipping truck.
The potatoes, they weren't scared! Yah know why? Simple.
Because Potatoes don't have FEELINGS!
....but if they did....they'd be scared. Take my word for it.
The potatoes arrived at the store and were bagged, ready for purchase. They sat together in a pile for hours,
thinking about (but not thinking about) what would happen in the future, why they were in this bag, UNTIL, UNTIL a homeless man (he looked homeless) reached into the bag, pulled out a single spud, and RAN! Out the store, down the street,
HE WAS OUTTA THERE! BYE-BYE SUCKERS!
Well, on his way to.... wherever he was going, he fell and dropped it. That's what stealing does to yah.
It rolled into an abandoned alley, far away from the man's sight. He couldn't stop and look for it, because he was being chased, so he ran away sourly, the potato being left cold and alone, without it's family to be piled up motionlessly beside it.
This potato was different. Unlike it's family, it could feel,
it could think and understand, even without knowing language at all, it's like the potato just knew everything and anything, without a purpose. And, another thing.
This potato, it was hungry. Very hungry.
Only hours later (again)
A parentless child walked the streets, searching for something to eat. They hadn't eaten in days. Of course, the child found the battered potato on the ground,picked it up and smiled.
It was the end of the potatoes life cycle, it seemed.
Or...was it? Seconds until the end, seconds until facing the terrifying wrath of the human's sharp, untaimed teeth, seconds until it got to see if there was a potato heaven or not, JUST SECONDS, something changed.
The spud; it grew. No, it didn't grow in size, but it did grow a mouth, and arms. And it could scream. Oh God, yes, it could wail like no tomorrow, so, quickly adapting to it's new form; it yelled ****** ****** The child threw it at a wall, screaming and running away.
..... Silence from the potato.
Sadly, it could withstand the grasp of a sweaty, homeless dude,
it could bare the growing silence from it's siblings,
it could even dodge the teeth of a starving ape!
But the potato was no match for a wall.
Mashed potatoes for dinner it is.
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 8:54 PM UTC
In a world full of
Glamorized french fries
I am nothing more
Than an organic potato
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 11:49 PM UTC