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Poetry Friday- Poems About Potatoes

  When I read Jane Kenyon's poem Potato, I was instantly reminded of a poem I wrote about going potato picking with my Dad as a youth. While both poems concern potatoes, they address the subject in quite different ways. 

Potatoes alone might not appear to be an overtly popular subject for writing poetry. However, it is a challenge for all writers to inject interest into topics and ideas previously considered mundane  or pedestrian and celebrate the unique qualities such items possess.  I note that I have written about potatoes on numerous occasions -maybe I have an affinity for the starchy staple. 

And so I bring you the humble spud. 

Spud Power! Potatoes Are More Than Carbs | Technology Networks

Potato

by Jane Kenyon

 

In haste one evening while making dinner

I threw away a potato that was spoiled

on one end. The rest would have been

 

redeemable. In the yellow garbage pail

it became the consort of coffee grounds,

banana skins, carrot peelings.

I pitched it onto the compost

where steaming scraps and leaves

return, like bodies over time, to earth.

 

When I flipped the fetid layers with a hay

fork to air the pile, the potato turned up

unfailingly, as if to revile me—

 

looking plumper, firmer, resurrected

instead of disassembling. It seemed to grow

until I might have made shepherd’s pie

for a whole hamlet, people who pass the day

dropping trees, pumping gas, pinning

hand-me-down clothes on the line.



The Potato Pickers

On the back of the 
Massey Ferguson tractor
The giant blade gouges
Deep into the damp sandy earth
Potatoes round and white
Are revealed
Tossed into the light
Up and out of their earthly depths
Dirt clings to their thin skins
They rattle and shake
Up and over the clanging conveyor
Landing on the soft earth with a suddenness
Uprooted from hidden beds
Dumped in the daylight
Rude awakenings

The potato pickers
Trail the tractor
And bend to the task
Eager hands
Father and son working
Side by side
Gathering the fresh harvest
No words are uttered
Just breath and movement
Hands reach, grab and collect.

©Alan j Wright




The Potato Pickers | News Mail







Comments

  1. These are wonderful poems. I have to thank you for the blitz poems last week. I was on a car trip, taking my son to his first year of college. I was the most nervous one in the car...but I had a pad of paper that I numbered from 1-50 and kept working out lines for blitz poems. It was fun and very calming. Thanks, Alan!

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    1. Linda, what an interesting application of the Blitz poem. I had not considered as a calming strategy, but it seems to have worked its magic with you. Glad you like the potato poems.

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  2. I love potatoes. They are one of my favorite foods and I enjoyed seeing how they get to my table in your second poem, but also felt rather sympathetic, after all, they are fighters as we saw in your first poem!

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    1. I must admit that I love them too Janice. Glad you found the poems enjoyable and informative.

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  3. Wow--two beautiful poems. Thank you. I love Jane Kenyon, but I didn't know this one. Also wanted to tell you I tried a blitz poem (2, actually) this week!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you for your kind words Laura. Wow, you really got into the Blitz thing! Good for you...

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  4. Alan, when I read the word spud in your introduction, I had to laugh because my high school boyfriend was called Spudsy. Of course, he was Irish and rather liked the nickname. The two poems are wonderful examples of descriptive poetry with their language and sensory details. I like the movement in both. Thanks for sharing these works. I, too, played around with the blitz form but nothing as advanced at what the other colleagues are speaking about.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My next door neighbour was 'Spud' Murphy. Murphy being another term for potato. It was therefore quite apt. Thank you for your generous remarks regarding the poems and good to hear of another poet trialling the Blitz poem format.

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  5. A timely topic for me, as I am going potato picking this afternoon (a first) :-) I enjoyed how very tactile both these poems are.

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    1. It is never too late to experience another first Tabatha. Enjoy your spud picking adventure! Glad you enjoyed the poems, synchronicity at its best.

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  6. Two delicious poems! Thanks for sharing both of them. I have dug potatoes but not on such a grand scale. We usually have just enough to turn over with a shovel.

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    1. There exists in the simple act of digging up potatoes a revealing of natural magic. A short journey from the earth to the kitchen. The freshness is something to behold. Glad you found some flavour in these poems as well Kay.

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  7. I'm always intrigued by seeing how two poets approach a similar subject in markedly different ways. Great poems!

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    1. Thanks Molly. I too am intrigued by the different perspective that emerge around the same subject. It adds a richness to the topic when we get to read diverse viewpoints.

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  8. You never know where a poetic gem might be discovered - "Uprooted from hidden beds". Both poems are good reminders of the wonders the world has to offer our writing if we pay close enough attention. Now if you will excuse me, I think I'll check the pantry for some spuds to go with our BBQ chicken tonight. :)

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    Replies
    1. It is part of the poet's pledge to search for hidden treasure...Enjoy those spuds Bridget.

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