"tater" poems
I'm going to ask myself a question
I can do that, you know
Alright, here we go
What is happiness?
Oh well, let me think about that one
Happiness is...
Ah, I know!
Happiness is you and me
Happiness is being free
Happiness is a summer breeze
Happiness is the sun through the leaves
Happiness is ice cream cone and tater tots
Happiness is daffodils and forget-me-nots
Happiness is a well aged book
Happiness is every picture took
Happiness is how we cope
Happiness is how we fight
Happiness is an eternal strength
Happiness is what is right
In short,
Happiness is you
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
Where you going?
What d’ya see?
A hundred thousand polka dots
A comin’ after me
Polka dots and tater tots
And french fried onion skins
A priest in a confession booth
Forgivin’ all our sins
Two or three gorillas
And an elephant in the room
Someone tell the maitre’ d
He’d best be leavin’ soon
Cuz the waiter and the waitress
Have figured out the plot
And if he hangs around much longer
He’s liable to be shot
By a psychopathic mushroom
Or a ****** off pizza pie
While the rabid rocket scientist
Wonders how he got that high
The ********** with bedroom eyes
Looks the other way, and
The specialist in pantomime
Does not know what to say.
A hundred thousand looks at love
Not a single one survives
Yet, with regret and toil and sweat
We go on with our lives.
pwl 5/20/15
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Let me tell you a story
Listen and learn
There was a Shepherd, a good Shepherd
Kind and loving, courageous and strong
He had 100 sheep
and the sheep loved the Shepherd
And so when one sheep wandered
The good Shepherd left the 99
And went after the one
And you might think you know this story
But I'm afraid it's not what you think
Because I am not the one...
I am one of the 99 left behind
Waiting for the Sheppard to return
Trapped by the walls of this fence
The posts and wooden planks
That contain us
Being lead by the very sheep that are
We walk in circles around the pen
Around and around... circles
Eating up the food we have
We begin to eat each other
And as demented as that sounds
It's true
Biting and gnawing
Bleeding and bruising
We turn to other sheep for nourishment
For truth... for guidance
But we are sheep all the same
Another one of the 99 left behind
Sheep is what we are
Be careful not to tater your fur
Careful not to tear or cut
To show the underneath
The skin that doesn't flatter but
Burns with the red of your hate
Your pride... Your sin
When will the Sheppard return
And open the fence
Lead to new grass
and water
There are sheep I've never seen before
Black sheep.
have you seen black sheep?
Yes sheep with spots but these sheep
They are black from head to toe
Their snouts are long and
they have sharp teeth
Strange that they have not hooves but paws
Appearing as wolves wearing sheeps clothing
They are mending the fence
The fence! It's broken!
Suddenly we realize we are not safe
Quickly, grab your hammer and nails!
Let us work with these black sheep...
to mend... the fence... around... us
Who built this fence?
Was it the Sheppard?
Cloudy as my memories be of the man
with the scars in his hands and side
This does not resemble his work
Who... built... these... walls?
These bars... This cell
With no key and a steeple?
Oh God, who built these walls?
No it wasn't the sheppard.
The walls he built had doors
And windows to let the light in
No... We have built these walls
The 99 left behind were not left...
We left.
We left the fence! The pasture!
The place of love and safety.
We are not the 99 left behind but the one
We are the one who wandered and strayed
And seeing that we were in territory unsafe
We built walls without doors
that trapped us inside... in darkness
Sheppard,
Search
Find us
Break down
These walls
Rebuild them
With windows
To let the Light in
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 1:10 PM UTC
Why oh why do I love pie?
The ABCs of it and
the LMNO-Pie of it
A Apple Pie
B Boston cream Pie
C Cherry Pie
D Dutch Apple Pie
E Equation Pie 3.14
F Fruit Pie
G Grandma's Gooseberry Pie
H Humble Pie
I Ice Cream Pie
J Jell-O Pudding Pie
K Kidney Pie
L Lemon Meringue Pie
M Moon Pie
N Nutty Pecan Pie
O Oreo Cookie Crust Pie
P Pud'nin Pie
Q Quick Set Frozen Cream Pie
R Rhubarb Pie
S Sweet Tater Pie
T Tuxedo Pie
U Upside Down Pineapple Pie
V Velvet Truffle Pie
W Whip Cream Pie
X PIE IN THE FACE
Y Yummy Pie
Z Zesty Lemon/Lime Pie
Now you have the XYZ of it
and the PIE of it
Why oh why do you love Pie?
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
it's in the appreciation of a fantastic tater tot
and a shared laugh after a missed rebound in trash can basketball.
it's in risk and fear and a crazy heart
in late night car rides and "I'm not letting go"
it's at Waffle House at 6AM on a Sunday
in the sheepish grins and sweetly sticky countertop.
it's in the raise of an eyebrow, a wink, a nod
in attention to detail. listening. feeling.
it's in perfect confessions (if shared)
and in a drive thru drink (but only if it tastes right)
it's in the smallest of gestures that mean "I'm sorry"
and the nod that says "you are forgiven"
it's in a car (blue, not black) with a broken console
and in the joyous laughter over squeaky leather seats.
it's in feeling different and wild and passionate
but in soft affection and the summer breeze.
it's in August, in between my toes like sand
natural, messy, persistent
but wonderful all the same.
he holds it for me.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
I’m trying to have a
Pity Party…
But people just won’t leave me alone…
I’ve got all the necessary accoutrement...
A bottle of Richard’s Wild Irish Rose...
Flannel Pajamas with oddly shaped holes
In all the wrong places...
A proper toothache ensuring my face is
Properly lumpy…
Worked hard on this body now properly bumpy
From too much soul food
That is... Food For The Soul
Such as
Pizza… and
Pudding…and
Tater Chips and Dips… and
Coco Puffs by the large serving bowl...
Donuts
And the holes to go with them...
Lifetime Channel already tuned in...
Blinds pulled down...
Unplugged my phone…
But these people!
They just won’t leave me alone!
Being all supportive and huggy and lovey and clean-y
I don’t see…
Why they don’t see…
That now is just not the time…
They need to get on out’a here
And let me drink my wine… cuz
I’m trying to have
A Pity Party!
But I swear they just won’t leave me alone…
NOW HEAR THIS!
NOW HEAR THIS!
Would
All
Pity
Party
Poopers
Please
Just Go Home!
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 7:13 AM UTC
[tater tots, sour cream, & smoked gouda]
i'm deeply afraid
that i am
a kaleidoscope
of shards
crushed
colored
glass
there is too much
s p a c e
around me
deafening silence
i want to be
held down
i want to be
smothered
i want to be
warm
i want to be
in the sun
i feel like
an exploding star
or a character
in a movie
that gets overcome
and flys apart
into brilliant
shafts of light
i'm sick
of trying
to stifle sobs
because i don't
want my neighbors
to think i'm
a ******
and i've been
thinking maybe
i'm not as old
as i think i am
and that is
terrifying
it is worse
than being old
because time is
stretching into
a vast expanse
of nothingness
how do i trust myself
when everything
has fallen apart
when all my decisions
have led to this...
this?
...but i've
been falling from
space
hard.
burning through
the atmosphere
like a
bat out of hell
and it is
the only thing that
seems right
i trust myself
in the realization
that plunging
to the earth
on fire
is maybe
the best thing
that has ever happened to me
i'm not trying to stop
in fact, i'm picking up speed
being pulled
by gravity
if i had to be catupulted
into space
unwillingly
to realize that
this breathtaking fall
is better
then so be it.
and i will
put smoked gouda
on tater tots
unapologetically
in an effort
to class up
this joint.
and because it's delicious.
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 1:37 AM UTC
I'm here to do some splaining
Bout the latest sensation
To grab hold the giblets
And rock the nation
It's been round for years
In case you didn't know
The sweetest of treats
The sweet potato
You've heard them tell
You can't judge a book by its cover
The outside is ugly as hell
With innerds like no other
So open one up
Scoop out its guts
You can bake em, fry em, pie em
Even pancake em up
Seems there's nothing that
This sweetness can't do
So line them up boys
For some sweet tater stew
Really didn't mean
To go off on a rampant
Of the sweet potatoes
Overtake of the planet
But you must admit
It's the best of both worlds
It's sweet and it's potato
Who could ask for anything more
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
clap for mashed potatoes
gravy on the side
ketchup smothered
is how i like my fries
love a baked potato
stuffed with everything
even like them broiled
butter and sour cream
hash browns grilled with onions
get my taste buds jumping
sometimes like them fancied
dressed up in au gratin
slurping of the soup
sprinkled down with parsley
even eat them raw sometimes
though the taste is gnarly
smoked me a tater once
living on the farm
followed around the little animals
till the cows came home
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
She entered through the back bedroom window .
She said she had my key
When I foolishly asked her
"Why you crossexamining me ?"
I dropped out of the University
I got myself a steady job
Working part time on the weekends
It had benefits without the friends
Then I spent the coldest winter
Without any heat or bread
I microwaved Idaho potatoes
They called me "Tater Head"
Now didn't anybody see
Now was there anyone who cared
Sunday was just another Monday
When is a rabbit not a hare ?
Well I found myself another girlfriend
I was sure now of her honesty
I came home from work one evening
To find my microwave wasn't there
Now I could have sat down and cried
But I never had a chair
Just some cushions on the floor
Hot and cold roaches everywhere
Now the future was looking bleak
Winter turned to spring you see
A thunderstorm turned tornadic
Took my apartment away from me
Didn't anybody see
I'm sure that nobody cared
Sunday turned into a Monday
All I said was,"So there" . . . oh , my .
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
it was right in front of me, the entire time.
it’s the end of the world now. at least before, I didn’t have you.
get ready for the bricks to rain down, we’ll run down the streets
and dodge the falling plaster with shredded eyes.
Some **** weird weather we get around here.
Could I have known you would have been perfect?
I didn’t ******* know.
And now, I’m trapped in your arms,
under this heavy sky.
it’s a sad thing really, that you think my name is pretty,
that you think it’s cute that I hate Scooby-doo,
that you care when I cry about spilling soda on the carpet because life is just too hard.
that you like my refrigerator magnets so much.
I can’t do anything anymore, you’ve found my weakness for
sour gummies and tater tots, you ***
I can’t do anything anymore, except give in.
hello.
Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 10:28 AM UTC
The sun kissed the horizon
The plump Russian babysitters have
Strolled away with their strollers
Long ago.
But I watched her make dinner
On the bark stove she carved into her mind.
She set the table with her fanciest china,
Tonight was a special occasion
I presumed.
She placed a heaping plate of potatoes
On the flower-splattered tablecloth,
Made to match the grass growing
Underneath her feet.
I could almost see the steam rising
From a distance
As she scooped each golden yellow tater
One by one into each dish:
First, second, third.
How sweet,
She’s preparing for our family dinner.
It will be as likely as the willow branches,
Serving as her ceiling,
Will protect her from lightning.
It starts to pour
I start to leave
The horizon has swallowed the sun whole.
I want to run back and tell her
That the willow will not be the only one
Weeping
some day.
The branches will curl onto themselves
And the stove will rust with age
Until it can no longer be used.
I turn
Behind her still thin lenses she peers at me
With twinkling eyes;
Penetrating my already thick ones.
Her head is like a protrusion of the tree.
I want to go back and tell her
To run away with me
Far away from the willow.
But all I can manage is
A heavy yawn
Ready to swallow
The glowing beacon hanging by a thread
In the sky.
How time has flown by
And how I wish,
My little darling,
That my memory of you
Stopped haunting my dreams.
She wanted to tell me
The willow is not as ***** as it seems.
But I’m not meant to make such predictions.
With a regretful tear I turn away
And run up the hill
To what I thought was higher ground.
Maybe one day
She will greet the journey with a smile.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 3:05 PM UTC
They rescheduled the tater tot party for Saturday
I was tired on Saturday
And I had already eaten hash browns
And they had no ketchup
So I had to decline
You have to pick and choose these days
You can't overcommit
Or you'll burn yourself out
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
Shall we sit, laugh and banter,
Discuss our every desire,
In an atmosphere on love and compassion,
You order bitter, and I go for smooth,
The waiter suggests the fries,
We accept the tater-tots,
We make work of our meal,
Beer washing down our mouths,
Forks stabbing at wandering hands,
Clearing the table, a brief contact is made,
Silence falls quickly,
An our eyes catch the waiters,
"One more round of drinks for two?"
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
She has big eyes and a big heart.
Both are telling.
Neither she can control.
She forgives easy and holds grudges.
She's complex and simple all at once.
Simple in the ways that make her happy.
Windows down
music up
long winding roads
and a full tank of gas.
Complex in how she sees the world
ugly, exhausting, alluring,
and so beautiful.
She has a wayfarer soul.
A little from her mother and mother's mother
and a lot all her own.
She loves too much.
No, she loves just right.
She gives too much.
Forgiving those who rarely give back.
Those who don't deserve her love and take her light.
She doesn't know how beautiful she is.
She's more than big eyes, curved lips, ******* and bone.
She is light, laughter, strength, loyalty, and acceptance.
She is a safe place for the broken, the weary,and the weird.
There is a war in her.
It leaves her tired and battle scarred.
But, she's still standing.
She's still fighting.
May she always know she isn't alone.
May she love herself as much as I love her.
May she see herself as I see her.
May she know she taught me every bit as much as I taught her.
My daughter.
A woman now.
No longer my Tater.
Forever my friend.
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 7:46 PM UTC
Gage is so grand
a handsome young man
i can see his little wings
an halo so straight
but i think its time
for another tater to bake
so jack be quick
send her to the store
where they sell
the
leather n lace
that always puts a smile
on your face
an twist her thigh
with the gleen
in your eye
mister
we all want gage a little
sister
sweet megan sweet megan
you must play your part
jump on his lap
with all of your heart
giggle with glee
as you ride his knee
make it *****
make it hot
make ole jack
hit the right
spot
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
what if we tried to weave words into my hair
and it all got tangled around our fingers
till they turned blue and had to be amputated
and we could never hold hands again
what if we tried to plant kisses late at night where the squirrels would never find them
and the rolly poly bugs got to them first
so we'd never get to sleep again
pulling them out of the roots until the sun came up
what if we tried to cook each other dinner and we had to put out a grease fire with my face
(Weird Al reference)
and we'd never be able to touch without my cheeks burning up again
what if we tried to freeze our favorite moments between bags of peas and tater tots
but the power went out and everything thawed and we forgot
what if-
what if we drew blueprints of our future
with footnotes and maps and sketches of beautiful things
just to lose them all downstream one day
like racing newspaper boats against our feet
and we lost our desire to dream anymore
all of these questions
keep me from stepping beyond what is comfortable with you
but
the thing that compels me to continue saying "yes" when you ask me out for dinner
is to think
what if all of that-
didn't?
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC
Our love is soap.
Our love is clean clothes on the dryer by the radiator.
Our love is coffee and cream with a spoonful of hope.
Our love is a gammon roast and a baked tater.
Our love is clean dishes and foamy dish rags.
Our love is fighting for the water in a tiny shower.
Our love is our journeys to the grocery store with all our reused plastic bags.
Our love is watching you play video games hour after hour.
Our love is lemon flavored body wash getting in my eyes.
Our love is being too stubborn to quit.
Our love is the thought of me leaving making me unable to cope.
Our love is getting up and sorting it.
Our love is soap.
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 2:28 PM UTC
Meet Chuck: a sixty-or-so year old sweetheart, a retired chemist with puppy-dog hazel eyes, the occasional mucus glob caked in their cracks
What he wants: the usual: a sweet tater, salad with thousand isle, warmed loaf of Portuguese bread, glass of water with a slice of lemon
What he actually wants: someone who will listen.
Footnotes: get ready for this week’s stories of old travels, re-runs of grown kids’ work endeavors, and that one time he visited Chicago for some chemistry conference…
The spice: a lesson on removing professional masks of insincerity, or over-sincerity, as fake as the hanging plants in this place. a lesson on meeting mid-way to realize our chapters are not palimpsests, but offerings to the Book of the Universe, forever in composition.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 6:39 PM UTC
My technoscribbles haven't all cachet;
A mother hen on Friday farts an egg.
Even a swill of parlance has a say
When maple roadmaps varicose a leg.
A skinnydipping nakedest remote
Viewer that loons a dreaming skims a pond
Fractals a nascent green and gleimous note
Hanging athwart with someone's else's blonde.
Take heart. The fish have lungs and breathe the air
Of a new day when everyfish can ***
With or without a whiff of underwear,
Though salty tears are sweetest 'neath the sea.
Milfs are a pack of pickleballing hots
Playing to win a plate of tater tots.
*
Aug 3, 2024
Aug 3, 2024 at 7:18 PM UTC
Long trips totally call for trail mix
But I'll take those tater tots and trix
Too bad the TV is back in Amcher town
Bagged burritos aren't my thing
But those brownies bring a zing
Chocolate covered Double dipped deep fried sugar glazed gooey ooey cheesy crust cut off with chips on the side and an extra large party family size bucket of bubble packed extra half and half double shot caramel frappucola
And then the main course
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 2:17 AM UTC
I reach for a thread
Ready to start again.
I look into her eyes,
Her beautiful enticing stare
As I run my fingers through her hair
Before beginning.
I grin as I pierce the first
Piece of material
The beginning,
When I first looked up
Into her eyes
Fighting for words
As my heart flew away;
The thread so entwine
Not a strand left out of place
Of this moment that
Sealed our fate.
This moment that I finally
Felt awake.
The material so bright
Reminding me that love,
Is the only magic in existence.
I look up again
To see she is nowhere to be seen,
I swivel my head
As the room bleeds,
The darkness encloses.
I reach for more material
But it’s all gone.
The thread starts to tater,
As the stiches fall apart.
I rest my head in my hands
Whipping the tears away,
Reminding myself how much
Of a privilege it was to be yours
For a moment.
But now I see your grey,
Beyond this light you would portray.
As we drift apart,
This little patchwork heart
Fuels our forgotten love.
Now to be just another antique,
Of such mystique
As I turn away
Tears running down my face
Time for my resting place.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Sarah
You wanted me to make you a poem
I asked you if you wanted it to rhyme
And you replied
"Whatever you think is best"
I stopped myself from arguing with you and making you have to decide
I need to stop myself more often from arguing with you
I've always had a hard time stopping
It really wasn't my thing
But this poem is about you not me
So I'll just continue with you
An eight year old little girl
Light brown hair and dark brown eyes
Huge eyebrows and a cute little smile
A little angel but not afraid to throw a punch
Can always make me laugh
Even when I don't want to
You are wise beyond your years and you have no clue
You are still so young and you have a lot to learn
This world is rough
And the road ahead is tough
But I know you'll pull through
Because that's what you always seem to do
You're a tough little girl who can deal with pain
But also has a soft side and will dance in the rain
You are my little sister and will forever be my main
And in case you didn't notice I wrote half in rhyme and half in not
So I hope you like this and if you come back later have a tater tot
Oh oops I'm sorry I forgot
You hate tater tots
I guess that makes me a felon
But make sure you come back and have a slice of some watermelon
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
I like taters
Yes indeed
I like taters
With my meat
I like taters
Don't you too
I like taters
In my stew
You like taters
Tell me please
You like taters
With
Cream cheese
Who likes taters
All mashed up
Who likes taters
With Ketchup
I have taters
Everyday
Mashed
Baked
Boiled
With
Gravy
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
Garbage bags
Tater tots
Black beans
Milk
This is a grocery list
not a poem.
But my brain is out of poems,
and the store is out of milk,
so maybe it is both.
Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 5:28 PM UTC