30 Cold Potatoes

[bop]

http://www.everypoet.org/pffa/showth...158#post620158I'm brimming with confidence.
Not.

Index

1. A Cold Potato
2. A Hot Potato
3. Mish-Mash
4. Couch Potato
5. Not a Poem about Chips
6. Seed Potato
7. Potato Prints
8. Limerick (Maris Piper's First Demise)
9. Why I Want Someone to Name a Potato After Another Famous Composer
10. A Potato For All Seasons
11. Limerickish Peruvian Blue
12. Comparing my Cat to a Potato
13. One of Several Rotten Potatoes
14. Picasso
15. Blight
16. Famine 1845
17. Planting
18. Love in a Potato Field
19. She Cross Stiches Crossly
20. Synesthesia
21. Potatoes and Salads
22. Zombie Potato
23. Symbiosis
24. Himsa Harvest
25. 'Cod and Chips Please'
26. Wild Potatoes
27. 13 Recipes for Potatoes
28. Love in a Potato Patch
29. Not a Potato Clock
30. Don't Knock Gnocchi

[new leaf]

Potatoes? Hoo boy, here we come!






This will be a great month - enjoy.

[Alexandrite]

It will be a righteous month!!

[GreaterMandalaofUselessness]

I mean what harm could a potato do anyway? You'll be fine.

[Janet]

For a luscious coat eat potatoes!

[Hare]

You think you have problems? Look at this dog's expression.

[Sorella]

Good Lord, Mike --
NaPo(tato) brings out the most amazing sides to people: you have thirty potatoes/poems in you about poems/potatoes?
Cool man, can't wait!

Sorella
PS gloopy soup... that rocks!

[Sorella]

bop aka Mike,
The Famine is stark and very well done, creeps up on you.

[bop]

Donner - Thanks for the 'Aw' about the last one and the kind comments about Picasso.
Kevin - I think I've wrung out most of the ideas now - I've started to dream about potatoes and that's not good!
Sorella - I'm glad 'Famine' had some effect. I'd like to do more justice to the subject. The brief research I did was shocking and enlightening. We Brits certainly know how to make a terrible situation worse.

[bop]

Plucked up from loam; scrubbed, boiled in skins,
On the table in a tureen within twenty minutes.
Tasting like earth, nuts and ecstasy
A firmness of flesh, moist with a knob of butter,
Too delightful a flavour to put into words
Oh! Potato, I love you dearly.

[bop]

I remember a man with a voice
like a rich, thick-cut marmalade
who featured in many a radio play.

I remember a man with a voice
like a baked potato; a deep baritone
suffused with butter, melting into
the gravy that is me.

I remember a woman with a voice
long gone; a spring flower, her lips
sherry sweet when she kissed me
good night.

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

I remember a man with a voice
like a rich, thick-cut marmalade
who featured in many a radio play.

I remember a man with a voice
like a baked potato; a deep baritone
suffused with butter, melting into
the gravy that is me.

I remember a woman with a voice
long gone; a spring flower, her lips
sherry sweet when she kissed me
good night.

I love the images in "Synesthesia". Is there a reason for the change from simile in S1 and S2 to metaphor in S3? With synesthesia, the transferred sensation is felt as something real, not "like". It may be an accommodation to use simile for non-synesthetes, who do not directly experience it, but it might still be possible to use metaphor only. as a more direct form of figurative language.

BrianIs AtYou

[Steven]

'Synesthesia' is not only a brilliant idea for a poem, but also successfully executed (does that sound a little to clinical poetry discussion?). The final stanza of the poem is elegiacal and a nice surprise.

[Sorella]

Plucked up from loam; scrubbed, boiled in skins,
On the table in a tureen within twenty minutes.
Tasting like earth, nuts and ecstasy
A firmness of flesh, moist with a knob of butter,
Too delightful a flavour to put into words
Oh! Potato, I love you dearly.

Bop,

How do you do it? Very well, it seems.
A simple ode to the simple staple of Northern Europe :-) Should be cross-stitched and hung on the wall!

Sorella (PS. are you eating potatoes with more respect and reverence now? I am!)

[prooftheory]

Synaesthesia is really well constructed. The three stanzas balance each other out to show what you are getting at.