Monday, April 7, 2008
Smiling at me
Nothing but blue skies
Do I see...
~ Lyle Lovett
Summers can be cruel. They can be scorching. They can be boring. They can cause misery sometimes.
But when you go out of your house
and see these colors of summer, any misery, any boredom evaporates.
Summer is the blue sky above.
Summer is the green grass under your bare feet.
~ Tim McGraw
Saturday, April 5, 2008
How much does a kilo of rice cost now? P30? P32? The last time my mother asked me to buy rice from the nearby sari-sari store a kilo costs like, P19. Even if I am a potato, I like my meal with rice, boiled or fried.
Look at how happy these (perhaps) mother and son are after purchasing those little packs of rice at a reasonable price. They say there is rice shortage in the country. Why can't I digest the fact that there really is? Maybe, what we have is a truth shortage, an excess of greed, and a scheming government.
For a better nation, plant potatoes.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
relenting to the force of nature.
now she looks unlike the others in their shades
except for red sneering welts,
she is naked. she has nothing to hold
but a fraction of momentary awareness.
as if hexed by a charmer
she twists and grovels toward a clearing
where, against her will, she docks her fears again.
the fowls, how strong are their noses!
they smelled blood that's yet to trickle
while she ushers their welcomed hunger.
and the fowls claw at her body;
they pick at its red welts
while she relishes the agony they feed her
their dribbling slaver burn like acid
and leave bluish-purple lacerations.
what candy-like appeal to a fowl's eye!
she feels how each wound will nourish her
how each sharp piece will nurse her back
to the wings of halcyon.
when the fowls exit the clearing
she will be fresh and soft
for the sun to harden once more.
then her skin will be like the others' again ---
taut, and shiny, and motley-hued ---
invisible on the vivid earth.
then her head will bow to the ground
that has always possessed her.
Potatoes think weird.
Monday, March 31, 2008
they are furious inside,
they are shouting orders
and we follow them
we are puppets willing
to move and kick
at the yank of strings
they are raging inside
and we are thin-skinned;
we too, we smolder and churn
at each prickle
they are powerful beings
that grow stronger than us
for a week
they are furious inside,
they are shouting orders
and we shout their orders
Potatoes have hormones, too.
Friday, March 28, 2008
The Loch Ness monster always had its allure and I'm glad they've found a way to tell ol' Nessie's story. Nessie isn't Crusoe, but at least I now know the creature was produced asexually.
I wonder why they didn't shoot the whole movie in Inverness, the land of dear Macbeth. Just think, what if the three witches gave Captain Thomas Hamilton the same prophecies they gave Macbeth? Who would be Lady Macbeth? Would the witches put the ugly dog in their cauldron along with the eye of newt and toe of frog? Double, double, toil and trouble. My life is in shambles. I got bumps on each of my shins. They aren't purple. But my zits are.
Anyway, have you watched that sweet movie The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep? And ummm...is a water horse related to the hippo? Hippos are river horses.
Some have potato heads, some are airheads.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I don't have to tell you anymore how I am. That is no longer your concern. Perhaps it never was. It doesn't matter. I, a potato, can very well stand on my own two feet. I am not someone to call a creature "indispensable to me" and then...you know how the tale ends.
I am not miserable as I was last year. But that doesn't mean I'm freakin' happy all the time. I'm not an android now, as I've said. I am a potato. And you, person, is but a slosh of acid in my stomach. I will hurl you, throw you up, puke you, vomit you, barf you out or belch you out.
And soon you will be nothing.
Yours (in history),
Friday, March 21, 2008
Sometimes, they look like this:
Nothing goes in.
Perhaps a vague, fuzzy .gif file of skating on ice may try to force itself in.
Perhaps a vivid memory of something that used to be cozy and pleasant may root itself down.
Perhaps a warning sign for deadlines may flash once in a while.
But they are all wiped out
and inside a potato brain
nothing is left.
Potato brain in comatose.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
What do potatoes understand about lent?
Abstinence. Does slurping a single cup of yogurt for lunch count?
Penitence.Does being sorry for every wrong thing you've done this year count?
Prayer. Does meditating under a moonlit sky for a quarter of an hour count?
Giving. Does forgiving creatures who wronged you over and over count?
Let me share with you something more comprehensible than my own potato musings.
Someone once said that to recognize the signs of God, pay attention to your stirrings. Look closely when you feel the swell of joy within, or the tightness as your throat closes up in sorrow. Live in that moment, poke around in its corners, and feel the texture of its walls. Sit with it for awhile, long enough to sense the presence of God sitting with you.
For many of us, this attention falls in the realm of discipline. We are so consumed with the goings-on around us that slowing down and looking inward requires a determined act of will. For Christians, Lent is a time to do exactly that.
Using a Lenten calendar is another way to observe this season with intention and presence. Each week of Lent is devoted to reflections on Lenten themes: stillness, examination, attention, prayer, suffering, hope, and new life. As you work through the days and weeks of the Lenten season also keep in mind three things that may help you develop interior peace:
First, live attentively. The Buddhists call this mindfulness. All it means is to be aware of life. Hear the silence of the snow. Feel the cracks in the earth. Look into one another’s eyes. Pay attention to every single moment and that moment alone. Feel it. Take it into your bones. Let it transform you.
Second, learn to let go. Start to simplify your life. Simplify your possessions, your thoughts, your desires, your expectations. When you can let go, your arms are open and ready to receive all the good things God longs to give you.
Lent need not be a time to live in guilt and shame. Instead it may be a time when we find ourselves in the place where we pay attention to our stirrings—in that place of deep stillness where the hunger of our souls and the heart of God meet.
holier gladness ours shall be;
Potatoes reflect and repent.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Today, there's a whole lot of reasons for this potato to say,
"With mayo, if you please."
the blue sky at 12 noon
a picturesque angle of a twiggy tree on a blue sky background
hugs from friends
smiles in the workplace
more hugs from friends
free ice cream and cake
dodge ball games
chats with friends
the green, green grass
a safe right eye
Positivity is a potato trait.
Your Personality Profile
You are dreamy, peaceful, and young at heart.
Optimistic and caring, you tend to see the best in people.
You tend to be always smiling - and making others smile.
You are shy and intelligent... and a very hard worker.
You're also funny, but many people don't see your funny side.
Your subtle dry humor leaves your close friends in stitches.
You are Ocean Blue
You're both warm and practical. You're very driven, but you're also very well rounded.
You tend to see both sides to every issue, and people consider you a natural diplomat.
Yes, I am warm when you get to know me.
No, I am not practical, I am idealistic.
Yes, I am driven, when I am not lazy.
Yes, I am well-rounded but I can be a square, too.
Yes, I always try to see both sides of a coin.
Yes, my diplomacy skill is natural.
I am ocean blue. What about you?
You Are 40% Weird
Normal enough to know that you're weird...
But too damn weird to do anything about it!
You Are An INFP
You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world.
Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships.
It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close.
But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop.
In love, you tend to have high (and often unrealistic) standards.
You are very sensitive. You tend to have intense feelings.
At work, you need to do something that expresses your personal values.
You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.
How you see yourself: Unselfish, empathetic, and spiritual
When other people don't get you, they see you as: Unrealistic, naive, and weak
Potatoes don't get bored.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
she cannot complain, she doesn't speak
open your eyes though,
man, your false-teeth bite holes into her cheeks
Just reminding you. April 22 is Earth Day.
Potatoes care for the environment.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Yes, potatoes do discuss novels such as James Joyce's Ulysses. We try to get acquainted with our roots as much as we can. Anyway, let me tell you about my distant relative, Mr. Talisman. Mr. Talisman is known for his role in Episode Fifteen: Circe of Ulysses. Here, he is an heirloom given to Leopold Bloom by his Irish mother. He is a magical dried-up old potato which helps Bloom ward off enchantments. Bloom lent Mr. Talisman to Zoe Higgins, a prostitute, and momentarily gives in to the enchantments he wants warded off. Mr. Talisman acts as a symbol of Bloom's worries about fertility. He is also a primary link to Bloom's overlooked Irish heritage.
Yes, potatoes and Ireland have a rather strong background together. They say it was Sir Walter Raleigh who introduced us tubers to the Irish in 1589. We potatoes have a great impact on the Irish. They just can't live without us. Remember the Great Potato Famine in the 1840's? We suffered from a specific kind of blight caused by Phytophthora infestans. We were ravaged greatly, so off went the Irish to America.
In celebrating St. Patrick's Day in March, potatoes are never forgotten. The Irish folks serve potato soup, potato bread and other yummy potato cuisine.
contest on potato
New York, PTI:
"It is grown in more than 100 countries, from the Andes and China's Yunnan plateau to the subtropical lowlands of India, on the plains of northern Europe and the steppes of the Ukraine," Lutaladio noted.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Potato eyes are uneven. They can talk to you and see you even without glasses.
A potato nose often breathes whatever kind of air is present but its favorite scent is Clinique Happy.
A potato mouth can talk and eat at the same time. It also likes berry-flavored lip balm.
A potato heart works above its brain. It can be stupid at times but is always noble.
The potato brain needs a pushing to function. It lets the heart accomplish most of the job.
The potato stomach is a small flexible bag that doesn't need much attention.
The potato's excretory organ is capable of holding up for hours and hours, which is good for traveling.
Thirty-five percent of a potato is a mishmash of different organs that function when needed.
Potatoes are interesting creatures.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
first rolling, rolling
from my gut to my heart
where it bobs up and down --
turning into a silver ball
that reeks of sweaty socks
the ball melts
into a wriggling, slithering
noisy blob, hissing what-ifs to my brain
and disappears through windows.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
no longer do i wear my chain mail
my shield and my sword
the bruises and cuts of battles
we fought i reveal unabashed
they think i hide in the length of my hair
but this too i have offered to you
as my secrets are unknown to me
i do not dread their flight
together we can always let them go
in the rivers, in the sky
unlike molten mails, and shields, and swords
by your hand, my nakedness protects me
entirely i give up my wounds and smiles
to the harshness of this earth
yet we do not heed, for your heart
is eternally boundless.
Monday, March 10, 2008
One, Humor. When the going gets tough, a potato needs to look at the quirks of life in an amusing light. Humor here is more of the comical type of wit, not the sarcastic kind I'm used to.
Two, Zeal. In work, in life. I've temporarily lost it. Things have turned quite unappealing. Perhaps a break would solve the problem. Yey for summer break!
Three, Grit. The heart. The resolve. The intestinal fortitude. I have it but it's not enough. The world can be very harsh most of the time and a potato must always have an abundant reserve of grit.
Humor, zeal, and grit for all potatoes!
Sunday, March 9, 2008
these blue waters are enough
the salty breeze alone
quenches my thirst
i will never squint at the sun again
for your sky has cleared my sight
and my heart now beats knowing
that you see me, even at my most invisible
let me not want for more
because i am warmed, i am refreshed
the mountains and forests
are your arms that embrace all
let me thus spread your love,
speak your love,
seek your love
for it alone suffices.
*This was written when Pope John Paul II died in 2005.
God loves potatoes.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
So, here I am, another thin slice of potato ready for my life's journey. I'm salted and peppered ever so subtly to suit your liking. I'm deep down in the middle of this paper container. My kins are all fired up. We've been through hell and back and now we are free. See, how golden my color is? It's just the right color - not charred nor underdone.
I'm nestled comfortably in the bottom. I like it here. Maybe I can catch a few winks before they serve us. I haven't slept for days. If I were human, I'd have eye bags the size of a double burger. But oh, I just can't sleep. Sleeping is so hard for me these days. Perhaps, I'm just excited. I remember when I was but a part of a tuber, I slept and slept like there was no tomorrow. Some things do have to change. Change, change, change is all that's happening now. Oh well, succumb.
Hmmm...we'll get cold if they don't serve us yet. I have no thoughts now. My mind is a huge blank.
The kitchen crew is a noisy bunch. All they ever do is talk, talk, talk about senseless, unimportant matters. I don't listen to them. I don't listen much to humans. They talk too much about the same things. One repetition just isn't enough for them. I say, once is a ride, twice is enough. And thrice? Just plain drab. Humans totally bore me most of the time.
I don't know when they plan to fire us off. We are getting cold and I am (thankfully) getting sleepy. I guess I'll entertain sleep now. I'll give you an update soon. If I ever get to wake up conscious.
Potatoes ought to sleep, too.
Confession: I had an affair with Pablo Neruda, the great Chilean poet.
and together we'll explore
untold truths of your land
let me follow your tongue, Pablo
let me follow the exquisite ripples
of reflections curved by your tongue
inspire me with your tongue, Pablo
and i will not hear your truths
and tales by second hand
let me speak your tongue, Pablo
let me taste the untainted splendor
of the music you've woven by time.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Let's see. Three of these shows are:
I hope these three shows are still on.
A couch potato watches woman tv.
If you want to love, you have to be open to pain.
It is when you hurt that you'll know you love.
When you love, you give of yourself even if and until it hurts,
because to love is to sacrifice.
Loving is not all pleasure.
When you seek for pleasure in love, you will never be satisfied.
Your feelings will always be transitory.
Your feelings will never be love.
They will just be feelings that come and go.
Potato eaters love.