For those of you going "This isn't a sonnet", Wikipedia has an article on curtal sonnets.
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This is pretty well carried off, and I love potatoes more than anything. I have been lately wondering if it's true that we can live off just potatoes and butter, 'cause I would do that. Why is starch bad for us according to diet people? I don't even know. Potatoes! Must make some mashed ones very soon~ Do you like sweet potatoes, too?
I loved your reference to the potato flower, 'cause it brings the poem into a very concrete and hands-on knowledge. Potatoes in the grocery store don't have flowers, but people who know potatoes and study them, like the cute little boy I tutor who has let his sweet potato flower into beautiful purple, know potatoes are more than just what they are in the grocery store. So that was a good move.
But! There's one point where I think you kinda just threw it in and didn't think so carefully about it as the other moments of the poem. Here:
The point of this is just, "yo, potato, you grow underground", where the other mentions of physical characteristics are charged with some emotion or personality. The stars and eyes talk about growing, which lends well to the idea of love, of fluctuation. The flower observes the love that hasn't been hurt by anything at all, yet. The lovers have yet to have their first fight. Then the scars are so woven into the narrative of dining that we don't even think about them. But this? The undergroundness? No movement, no connection to love. You attempt it, by saying, "don't fret silly potato", so you want to sound loving, but why would the potato be fretting in the first place if it has always lived down below. Don't you accept that anyway? Why is it worth mentioning? This is your weak point. Can you find a way to fix it?
POTATO LOVE FOREVER.
PM me if you have questions.
Good luck and keep writing~
Hi there, Kyllorac.
This made me actually facepalm. Oh, potatoes. And I thought it was a rather non-sequitur ending at first, but then I looked back and realized that you were describing a potato all along.
This is actually quite good. I really had no idea you were talking about the potato until the end, but all of it makes perfect sense, which is hilarious.
I've never encountered a curtal sonnet before, and I thank you for linking that article so I could learn about a new form of poetry so easily and quickly. Kudos for thoughtfulness!
Now onto some things that stood out to me as odd in your piece.
Now, I'm not a potato expert, but I have no idea if you're describing the potato or the potato eyes here, or whatever you're describing. This seemed to come out of nowhere, and I wish I knew what it meant. It's a good line, and I like it, but it needs to be clearer.
This image doesn't really fit in with the rest of your rich imagery. The rhyme between bars and scars isn't working for me. I feel like you had to say "bars" here for the sake of the rhyme. But again, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
Altogether, you've created a well written and funny poem. I hope that this review was helpful. Happy writing!
Thank you for the review.
I was describing a potato flower. They tend to be trumpet-shaped and can range from being white to a very vivid violet.
It wasn't intended to, and I intended it to be the point where the reader goes "waitwat?" It's also a reference to how potato chips and fries are really common food items at bars where I live.
Bravo xD