I had forgotten a bag of potatoes in my balcony.
They were partying while beauty was in the making 🙂
Two months later these were the results.
Enjoy the scenery!
All that, much more… or rotten potatoes
Wearing the hats of an Ascot race
Tentacles stretching out in a plea
Clamoring the human race
For ostentation and allure,
Whichever way you look at me,
Flash your interpretation through
The lens of your soul.
See the bumps and cracks,
Flesh withering, rotting back to life,
Wrinkles and scratches,
Abandoned at a party in a pantry…
Forgotten to nature happening…
To the unfold of beauty in the making.
See it all in its synchronicity.
Love me for I am forever returning.
A reflection in the firth of your desires.
See all that or… decay with no glory.
A smell to toss in an instinct of preservation
Applying the laws of order and cleanliness
Never questioning the
Possibilities of magic happening,
Foulness dissolving into beauty
Mold, as a compass to our mien (1)
Sprouts, extensions to barriers
Crevasses, detour… the scenic route
Catch even a glimpse of life on Mars
Or the gossiper thriving on some
Dripping, luscious, slippery news.
All that and much more, for every eye
Has a story, every mind a book.
Or, just take a glance and toss
Without a second thought,
The rotten potato.
1. Bearing or manner, especially as it reveals an inner state of mind: “He was a Vietnam veteran with a haunted mien” (James Traub).
2. An appearance or aspect.
[Alteration (influenced by French mine, appearance) of Middle English demeine, demeanor, from Old French, from demener, to behave; see demean1.]