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Soft words butter no parsnips, but they won't harden the heart of the cabbage either.
Butter
Pull me from the toaster
Straight into the roaster
Fill my head with the stuff
Brightest dreams are made of
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Promising the big guns
Reward when the light comes
Screaming from the damage done
Screaming from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up like I know you will
Cover it up like I know you will
Better yourself like I know you will
Breaking the trust like you always will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Duh
So you think you got the best
Thought I was like all the rest
Reaping from the damage done
Reaping from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
song performed by by Ultraspank

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butter Up
Butter up,
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a loving and done with fun.
Butter up,
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a loving and done with fun.
And when Monday begins,
We'll have those memories...
To keep!
Butter up!
Butter up!
Butter up, butter up, butter up, butter up!
Butter up...
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a buttering done with fun.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Put Your Chocolate In My Peanut Butter!
Hey you, you have too much hair and we dont like what you wear
And you have really bad breath so were gonna beat you to death
Because there is plenty of us and only one of you weve got plenty
Of reasons and heres just a few you put your chocolate in my
Peanut butter I was walking and you were in my way you looked
At me without my permission you never even apologized you put
Your chocolate in my peanut butter thats good enough reason for
Me to bash you put your chocolate in my peanut butter thats good
Enough reason for me to smash no justice / theres just us / so trust us
You put your chocolate in my peanut butter you put your chocolate in
My peanut butter you put your chocolate in my peanut butter you put
Your chocolate in my peanut butter
song performed by by NOFX

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I love is a peanut butter and pickle sandwich. I'll just have peanut butter and bananas, then peanut butter and pickles. Peanut butter and chocolate I don't recommend.
quote by Dianne Wiest

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Big Butter And Egg Man
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
From way out in the west
She wants somebody...who's workin' all day
So she's got money...when she wants to play
Now pretty clothes...they'll never be mine
But what she told me the other day
I hope she don't change her mind
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
A great big butter and egg man
From way down south
song performed by by Louis Armstrong

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Butter & Egg Man
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
From way out in the west
She wants somebody...whos workin all day
So shes got money...when she wants to play
Now pretty clothes...theyll never be mine
But what she told me the other day
I hope she dont change her mind
Now she wants...a butter an egg man
A great big butter and egg man
From way down south
song performed by by Louis Armstrong

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Krishna Denying He Stole The Butter
O mother mine, I did not eat the butter
come dawn, with the herds,
you send me to the jungle,
o, mother mine, I did not eat the butter.
all day long with my flute in the jungles
at dusk do I return home.
but a child, younger than my friends
how could I reach up to the butter?
all the gopas are against me
on my face they wipe the butter,
you mother, are much too innocent,
you believe all their chatter.
there is a flaw in your behaviour,
you consider me not yours,
take you herd-stick and the blanket
I'll dance to your tune no longer.
Surdas, Yasoda then laughed,
and took the boy in her arms,
mother mine I did not eat the butter.
poem by Sant Surdas

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peanut Butter Lovers
Chocolate,
And marmalade...
Is a taste craved by some.
Who may just rave...
About the flavor that comes.
But...
Those who prefer their peanut butter,
Alone...
Spoon it from a jar protected,
As if its diamonds they own.
Peanut butter,
When it's discovered.
Is loved like nothing other,
To soothe one's secret druthers.
It is licked quick from the lips.
And it isn't there long.
Those addicted to their peanut butter,
Have stacks in their homes.
Oh yes, it's peanut butter...
When it's discovered.
Is loved like nothing other,
To soothe one's secret druthers.
Chocolate,
And marmalade...
Is a taste craved by some.
Who may just rave...
About the flavor that comes.
But it's peanut butter,
Loved like nothing other.
It can make one stutter,
When it is discovered.
Oh yes, it's peanut butter...
When it is discovered.
Is loved like nothing other,
To soothe one's secret druthers.
Those peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers.
Keep your chocolate and that marmalade.
Peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers,
Are different from the others.
Those peanut butter lovers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Butter?
No Butter? (when a country practice monopoly)
“Butter, the chef said, I can’t fry a snitzel without butter? If I use margarine
it gets too salty and tastes like whale, if I use olive oil, it gets a Portuguese
flavour, a snitzel is Austrian. How can you fry an egg without using butter,
one loses the taste of clover and rural idyll, farm yards and chickens looking
for worms? ” ” Sorry the restaurant manager said, but we have no butter,
you gotta use margarine and anyway the guests are not chefs they will not
notice the difference.”The chef looked aghast, put down his ladle and said:
“You can’t mean that, has all my work comes to nothing? ” Took off his apron,
had tears in his eyes, ready to walk out into the cold night and not return.
“Hang on the manager said, without you I can’t run this place, it is the caring
way you prepare food that our guests like you they know there is a butter
shortage, but they don’t mind as long as they now you are the chef.”
Mollified the cook took his apron back on lifted his ladle and said, “Ok, but
see if you can get some butter even if you have to buy it from the Danes.
poem by Oskar Hansen

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Jar Of Peanut Butter
You, Me, And A Jar of Peanut Butter
Friday, April 10,2009
Barren landscape spread shore to shore
Passages opened an unspoiled door
Covered now fertile grounds with peanut butter
Succulent tender treat sounds you now mutter
Cries delight the more you utter
Crazy I know but do I stutter?
Warm yet juicy passion’s pink
Youthful fountains from hence I drink
Dinning on fruits garnished sweet little kitten
Taste no haste love bug now I’ve been bitten
Speaking words I’ve never heard
Singing softly the mocking bird
Peaches delight and O’ so eatable
Quite the storm you are so incredible
I so like the taste of peanut butter
So the much for hearts do flutter
As I rub it on your smooth belly
Added now it too guava jelly
Sandwich made sounding fallacious
Elegant debutant our lady gracious
O’ I love it the peanut butter banquet
Feasting cause wires to short circuit
Clear wrapping covers beautiful flowers
Mine to embrace and massage for hours
Nestled peanut butter between airspace
Extricated by tongue from a secret place
Removed I did from her sweetshop
Finished now I shed a teardrop
Lapped ever morsel up like an animal
Feeding time for this fine young cannibal
Concluded clambake of visitation conjugal transience
Feasted on bounty of such magnificence
How I love to ingest peanut butter
A thought shakes me makes me shutter
Listen up for concise I speak and never I stutter
Zesty, testy, smooth, and creamy peanut butter
poem by Wilfred Mellers

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I eat peanut butter
I eat peanut butter from a jar
Sitting quitly naked at the bar
Wired in frankincense and cheap olive oil
You can never spot where Ive hidden my old boil
I eat peanut butter with a spoon
Hanging on a telophone from the moon
Looking everywhere for the third rock in my drawer
cause I'm followed by the elaphant whose getting rather cold
I taste peanut butter with marmalade
Its sutured with nectrines with astringent taste
Surrounded by a gang of malefactent tea cups
Coming from Buenos Aries on the back of maple syrup
want to ride the posse of little bitty irishmen?
I lick peanut butter from outerspace
I was born southside so it goes to my waist
I lick peanut butter from a dress
Its my wifes who i never met
I take peanut butter to a zoo
Watching the contortions of the Gaia philharmonic
Exasperating riddles which their tvs cant decode
While swimming in the puzzles of a Lincoln camry ford
Bet you wished their was some Peanut butter
to explain this ghastly poem?
poem by Kevin Patrick

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sit There And Eat It
OH!
So you want to 'mince' something?
You come in here ready to dice...
With me?
Well...
Let me tell you something right now...
You take this knife!
You see that roasted garlic?
Vadalia onion, parsley and garden tomato?
You dice them first!
You mince that together.
See that sauce pan?
DO YOU?
Put some olive oil in that pan!
Add some seasalt.
Now you add some fresh ground pepper.
Wait until that oil heats!
DO YOU HEAR ME?
DO YOU?
Do you see that cod sitting over there?
Get the butter!
Get the unsalted butter.
What do you mean there is only salted butter?
Then USE it!
Melt it separately.
Dip that cod in that butter.
Throw that diced stuff in that oil.
Sizzle all of it!
Now put that cod in!
YES! Put that in there! In that pan!
And...
When that is finished cooking,
I want you to sit there and eat it!
Every dropp of it!
WHY are you smiling?
I didn't do a thing!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4. A Merry Christmas
Gone shopping for good brandy butter
My homemade plum puddings in need
I don’t want a tin of rum sauce mix
It just wouldn’t do no indeed
Last night’s Christmas Eve rush was crazy
The shop had none left on the shelf
So I bought half a pound of best butter
To mix up with brandy myself
My mixer took brandy and butter
It churned the lot up to a paste
I drank what was left of the brandy
As I don’t like things going to waste
Everyone had a good dinner
With plenty of wine, port and sherry
But no one got fresh brandy butter
We all fell about slightly merry
poem by David Threadgold (2008)

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butter Fly Wings
Butter Fly wings
float near my face
and this softest breeze
reminds me of the way
your lips brush mine,
not touching
but close-by
fluttering;
.
gentle usherings
planting butter-fly kisses
on your red mouth
pursed
in the filtered sun.
Butter me,
Butter Fly me
and I will land
where softer souls gather
in butterfly-kissed
kaleidoscopic fields
close to home
where gentle hands
stroke my brow
whilst I inhale
eternity
kissing the face
of Love True.
poem by Lonnie Hicks

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mighty Fine Blues
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes indeed
Walk down any street
Pass the people you meet
What is it about this place that keeps you on your feet
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes indeed
Night is coming down
Closer to the ground
Gonna have a little fun while I'm still around
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes indeed
Don't believe the words they say to you when their soul's hurting
Don't believe a word they say about me because I'm feeling mighty fine
Think I gotta go
Think I'm gonna die
Oh my God somethings wrong
The end is coming near
because I'm
Feeling mighty fine
feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am
Feeling mighty fine
Feeling mighty fine at this time, yes I am, yes I am
song performed by by Eels

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peanut-Butter Sandwich
I'll sing you a poem of a silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string,
But he only loved one single thing—
And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.
His scepter and his royal gowns,
His regal throne and golden crowns
Were brown and sticky from the mounds
And drippings from each peanut-butter sandwich.
His subjects all were silly fools
For he had passed a royal rule
That all that they could learn in school
Was how to make a peanut-butter sandwich.
He would not eat his sovereign steak,
He scorned his soup and kingly cake,
And told his courtly cook to bake
An extra-sticky peanut-butter sandwich.
And then one day he took a bit
And started chewing with delight,
But found his mouth was stuck quite tight
From that last bite of peanut-butter sandwich.
His brother pulled, his sister pried,
The wizard pushed, his mother cried,
'My boy's committed suicide
From eating his last peanut-butter sandwich!'
The dentist came, and the royal doc.
The royal plumber banged and knocked,
But still those jaws stayed tightly locked.
Oh darn that sticky peanut-butter sandwich!
The carpenter, he tried with pliers,
The telephone man tried with wires,
The firemen, they tried with fire,
But couldn't melt that peanut-butter sandwich.
With ropes and pulleys, drills and coil,
With steam and lubricating oil—
For twenty years of tears and toil—
They fought that awful peanut-butter sandwich.
Then all his royal subjects came.
They hooked his jaws with grapplin' chains
And pulled both ways with might and main
Against that stubborn peanut-butter sandwich.
Each man and woman, girl and boy
Put down their ploughs and pots and toys
And pulled until kerack! Oh, joy—
They broke right through that peanut-butter sandwich
A puff of dust, a screech, a squeak—
The king's jaw opened with a creak.
And then in voice so faint and weak—
The first words that they heard him speak
Were, 'How about a peanut-butter sandwich?'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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