Mr. Potato acts like a normal potato.
Yet, deep down, Mr. Potato feels sad. Pretending to be like everyone else breaks his heart.
Mr. Potato’s Diary
Mr. Potato’s heart reaches out to him, nudging him with care.
His heart feels like home! Comforted, he begins to embrace his true colors.
Mr. Potato’s Healing
In the space of self-acceptance, it’s easy to be enough.
Mr. Potato can yell hello to the trees, wander off mid-sentence, and be his wildly colored himself. There is no one to please, only the space to be weird and free.
Mr. Potato’s Self Acceptance
More confident than ever before, Mr. Potato begins to be his authentic self around other potatoes. However, the fear of rejection can make him feel nervous.
Nevertheless, his heart can only shine his free-spirited, quirky, and imperfect self.
Every Potato Has A Colorful Light to Share 💖
Dear beautiful soul, what makes you unique? ✨
I like Mr. Potatoe’s story.
What makes me unique….myself & my personality, I would say; that people see
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Haha, that’s awesome, your inner light must be shining outwardly! We need unique personalities in this world. 💖 Thank you so much for enjoying Mr. Potatoe’s story, I relate to him quite a bit. 🙂
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You’re welcome…..keep writing with your inner light ✨
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Yay… that’s my intention. You as well, with all the heart and guts of poetic beauty!!! 🙂
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✨❤️….that alone sounds so beautiful…”with all the heart and guts of poetic beauty!!!”
….❤️✨
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Well, you responded perfectly…You’re spot on with poetry translates all that of being human…and sometimes being inhuman (sort of….when one feels like a beast / devil / demon)
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Wow!! Yes… that thought has never occurred to me before. Poetry can portray this subjective reality of our interior world. Sometimes the interior world feels supernatural (“devilish”), with how uncontrollable, “wild”, and “untamable” our emotions and our shadow sides are. Going along the supernatural theme, poetry can also portray a heavenly, dream-like aspect of reality that makes life feel a bit “surreal” (i.e. romanticizing our emotions)! Poetry is definitely a vehicle for both our subjective imaginations and objective realities. 😛 ❤ 🙂
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You get me & I, you….even some of my poems portray that side of me….
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Do you mean “me” is the heart, whereas “I” is the perceived self?
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You can say that…I like that…though I meant we’re mirrors…I see you…you see me…you get me…I get you…and mirrors don’t lie
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This is wonderful story. I like the allegory
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Dear Parneet, Mr. Potato is glad you liked it. 🙂
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😊
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Usually,
it’s the potatoes I don’t eat –
like the other night,
when there was a queue at the chip shop
and
I was too shy to join it
for a reason nobody would have felt comfortable trying to understand.
So I went to a place with no potatoes to share
and wondered
why…
so many things…
so many whys…
and what ifs.
I sat in the wrong place,
ate the wrong food,
held the last little piece of sky in my hands
and lost something
that everybody else keeps telling me how to find.
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Hahaha… this makes me
smile, and ponder, and wonder.
My heart feels warm, thank you.
Not eating the potato at the place my heart wants is a Sad Day indeed. Why, because being in the wrong place means all the questions are left even more unanswered. Or, maybe being in the wrong place causes me to ask big questions I have no answers to. I do wonder what a “piece of sky in my hands” means, yet indeed it feels very nice to read. ❤
Here's a poem response:
A single strand of spaghetti noodle,
Dangles off the fork.
Sometimes,
It can get lost in the sauce.
Yet other times,
It finds the courage to
Glide with its slippery surface
And leave a trail on the plate.
Have a great day, Woodsy. ❤
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