Hormones

they are furious inside,
they are shouting orders
like tyrants
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
like tyrants.

Potatoes have hormones, too.

Lake of Unconsciousness: The Water Horse Blurb

It was my cousin from Down Under whom Ben Chaplin chucked over to lure Crusoe toward the lake. If he did not appear as himself, then his acting surely did improve. He looked like a veritable potato-colored rock! But I'm sure it was my cousin.

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.

A Caustic Potato Note

Person,

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),
Potato

Twister Fries

Inside a potato brain are curly, cheesed twister fries.
Sometimes, they look like this:










Invisible.
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.

The Penitent

The woman, she kneels deep with her gauzy
black veil sweeping the altar floor;
could she look him in the eye, she asks.
She detests her sins, she regrets them, now
she's waiting for his word,
she strains to hear his voice,
she bends to see his sign.
And would she then obey?

Lenten Potatoes

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?

Yes and no. Yes, they may count but they are not simply it.
Let me share with you something more comprehensible than my own potato musings.

This is from explorefaith.org (copyright 1999-2008)

When we are real

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.

Beginning 40 days before Easter, Lent has traditionally been a time of looking inward, a time of self-evaluation and self-examination in order to identify one’s sins and go through a process of repentance and renewal. Many Christians have fasted during portions of Lent, others have found ways to mark the days by “giving up” something that is particularly delightful to them, even if not sinful. For some it’s giving up sweets or red meat, for others cigarettes or alcohol, habits which oftentimes are picked up again when Easter rolls around.

In recent years, there has been less emphasis on giving up and more emphasis on taking on. Some will choose to go to church more often, or serve the poor, or be more disciplined in meditation.

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.

Third, develop intimacy with God. Gather in yourself a phrase or thought from the calendar. Let the thought or phrase filter through your heart and mind throughout the day. Say it when you stand in the grocery line, when you eat your lunch, when you scrape ice off your car. Let it settle deeply in your heart so that it can work from within to bring you into closer intimacy with God.

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.

So shall we have peace divine:
holier gladness ours shall be;

Round us, too, shall angels shine,

Such as ministered to thee.

—Hymn #150, The Hymnal 1982

Potatoes reflect and repent.

With Mayo, Please

Some potatoes have turned positive after being chopped and mashed. It's a wonder they didn't end up cynical.

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

skirts

God's love

Positivity is a potato trait.

Potato Addiction: Blogthings

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.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

95% true.

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.

What Color Blue Are You?

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!

How Weird Are You?

Weird.

You Are An INFP

The Idealist 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

What's Your Personality Type?

Potatoes don't get bored.

Potato Vocabulary

Your Vocabulary Score: A-

Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary! You must be quite an erudite person.

How's Your Vocabulary?

Potatoes love words.

Trees Through Potato Eyes

Intricate tree barks mirror life.

Trees dream to reach the beautiful Luna.

In their nostalgia, raindrops kiss trees.

Green leaves and brown twigs swim in the cool blue sky.

Potatoes look up to them tall trees.

Potato Shouts: Be Real for Mother Earth

false teeth

man, she's sick of wearing your false-teeth
she cannot complain, she doesn't speak
open your eyes though,

sans chewing, she'll swallow you whole

as the water boa devoured the bathing elephant

take off your apathy, your complacency as well

open your eyes to the fragile nature of your kind

there in silence lies a vindictive adversary

man, your false-teeth bite holes into her cheeks

she doesn't need dentures to cover the gaps you make

man, dispose your false-teeth fast

-if you can't wear it yourself.

Just reminding you. April 22 is Earth Day.

Potatoes care for the environment.

Irish Potatoes

I have just finished taking my final exams in literature. Boy, 'twas a potato brain drain. Thank goodness for Leopold Bloom's potato talisman, I was able to hand in my paper with my brain cells intact.

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.

Heads up all ye potatoes!

Potato Photo Contest

An interesting news for you, potato lovers and photographers, from Decan Herald:

UN organises

international photography
contest on potato
New York, PTI:

The United Nations agricultural agency has organised an international photography contest on the role of the potato in the fight against hunger and poverty to commemorate the International Year dedicated to the tuber.

Despite being called the food of the poor, potato is the planet's fourth largest food source.

The contest, titled Focus on a global food, invites photographers to capture the spirit of the International Year in images which illustrate potato biodiversity, cultivation, processing, trade, marketing, consumption and utilization.

"Photographers who explore the world of the potato will find plenty of subject matter," said NeBambi Lutaladio, the coordinator of the International Year, which aims to raise global awareness of the potato's potential to help countries achieve the Millennium Development Goals, a set of targets for reducing extreme poverty and other global ills by the year 2015.

"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.

Sponsored by Nikon, the contest has separate categories for professional and amateur photographers, and will accept single digital images or 'photo stories' of four to eight related images, in either black-and-white or colour.

The winning photographs will be chosen by a selection panel that includes some of the world's leading professionals in the field of photography. Winners will be awarded cash prizes totaling about USD 11,000 as well as Nikon cameras. The deadline for entries is September 1, 2008.

Spotlight on potatoes!

Anatomy of a Potato

A potato is made up of 80% water and 20% solid. Just like you, however, a potato also has these essential features.

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.

Mashed Potato

Pain is a blistering summer sun
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.

That's what I thought. But pain doesn't disappear as easily as that. A potato may cry her eyes out, still pain will be there, bobbing up and down, drilling holes in the guts and the heart. How is it going to get out? When? Can somebody please tell me?

Potatoes suffer.

Potato Ego

Sometimes, potatoes are weak. Their belief may waver. Sometimes, they give in to their weaknesses and let their ego do the work. Potato egos are not very reliable things. They can be manipulative and are often self-centered, always focusing on gratifying themselves.

When egos work, they believe that they can be self-reliant. When they get to know the truth, that they are in fact weak, they seek reliance on other beings - people, things. Sometimes, they may even force you to splurge your very puny salary to nothingness. That's because they find strength in these external beings.

What egos often forget is that there is a Being on whom they can fully rely. There is a Being who doesn't give them illusions of security or love. There is a Being to run to. There is a Being with whom you can just be your weak potato self.

May I share with you a few lines on this.

conversion

(for the Being)

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.

Potatoes learn day after day.

Potato Wishes

There are three important things I wish for my potato self right now.

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!

A Potato Prayer

let me not want for more
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.

Sweet Potatoes

Sweet potatoes are rotten.

Stream of Potato Consciousness

At last, I'm out of that freakin' hot boiling sea of lard!

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.

Hash browns

Confession: I had an affair with Pablo Neruda, the great Chilean poet.

Proof:

teach me your tongue, Pablo
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.

Hush, potatoes.

Couch Potato Musings

It's been a long, long while since I had let the couch potato in me run, uh, loaf and dawdle. The fault of the idea that people must work to live sensibly, I know. I'm just glad the school year is finally coming to its close. Merci, yum, yummy time with the telly! I miss the shows I used to watch a year or two ago. I hope they are still on.

Let's see. Three of these shows are:

Bewitched

The crazy, magical married life of Samantha and Darryl Stevens doesn't fail to squeeze a few laughters from me. The 60s and 70s setting completely magnetizes me to the screen. Elizabeth Montgomery (Sam) is also on my list of marvelous women of the world.

The Nanny

There is no other nanny as amusingly bawdy, lovably loud and bossy as Nanny Fran Fine. I originally started watching this the first time the show went on air, when I was like, ten. But Fran and the Sheffield household still have their hold on me, even through reruns.

Lonely Planet Six Degrees

There are lots of travel shows on the planet, but I used to spend a lot of time traveling with Asha Gill on Lonely Planet Six Degrees. It's always an experience to roam around with Asha and the six degree friends she gets to meet. Maybe it's because of her girl-next-door air.

I hope these three shows are still on.

A couch potato watches woman tv.

A Potato Take on Love

Some cliches can't be told in any other way.

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.

The Potato Eaters

I ate a tiny bit of boiled potato for lunch today and figured how much I've grown to like these lovely tubers. I used to ignore them when I was younger. Now, I eat them with my chicken, my pork, my veggies, my fish, and my spicy burger.

This space on the web may not always talk about patata, but this first entry is in honor of the world's most widely grown tuber crop, which has come a long way from its simple beginnings in the area of Lake Titicaca in Peru. Potato's etymology is traced to the Nahuatl word potatl. But you can call it Kartoffel in German, tartufoli in Italian, ziemniaki in Polish, pomme de terre in French, aardapel in Dutch, peruna in Finnish, or kentang in Indonesian.

In 1885, Vincent van Gogh finished his breakthrough painting The Potato Eaters. This work is considered to be his first ever "masterpiece". It shows five people, four women and one man, intensely eating potatoes in a dim dining area. I'm genuinely glad that one of the masters of the brush I look up to the most would consider potato eaters like me a subject.

All hail potatoes!