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Why Not Eat With Gusto An Unbuttered Bread?

at an age
where bad cholesterol reigns
the kingdom
of your veins

do not ever
think of butter
and cream
or jellies
or margarine

eat some unbuttered bread
one that is bland
and even tasteless

they too serve
the palates
of the brave

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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Bread is wiser

Butter is richer than bread
But can’t replace bread.
But butter is better with bread
For which is not sad the bread.
Wives are not wiser than bread.
05.02.2000, Palakkad

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bread & Butter

I love bread and butter
and jam upon hot toast
and flowers in the summer
but I love you most.

I love the red spring tulips
and cold strawberry mousse
and I love chocolate pudding
but I love you most.

I love bread and butter
and honey for to spread
though honey is but nothing
to your warm caress.

I love bread and butter
but egg with chips will do
although they only half compare
to my love for you.

I dare not feign indifference
I love a red, red rose.
Their scent is ever fragrant
but I love you most.

You know I love my mother
and sumptuous Sunday roast,
I love her home made puddings
but I love you most.

poem by Ruth Walters
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The King's Breakfast

The King's Breakfast
The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
"Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?"
The Queen asked the Dairymaid,
The Dairymaid
Said, "Certainly,
I'll go and tell the cow
Now
Before she goes to bed."

The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told
The Alderney:
"Don't forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread."
The Alderney
Said sleepily:
"You'd better tell
His Majesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead."

The Dairymaid
Said, "Fancy!"
And went to
Her Majesty.
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
"Excuse me,
Your Majesty,
For taking of
The liberty,
But marmalade is tasty, if
It's very
Thickly
Spread."

The Queen said
"Oh!:
And went to
His Majesty:
"Talking of the butter for
The royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?"

The King said,
"Bother!"
And then he said,
"Oh, deary me!"
The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"

The Queen said,
"There, there!"
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, "There, there!"
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
"There, there!
I didn't really
Mean it;
Here's milk for his porringer,
And butter for his bread."

The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
"Butter, eh?"
And bounced out of bed.
"Nobody," he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
"Nobody," he said,
As he slid down the banisters,
"Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man -
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!"

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And if you have high cholesterol, you would feel the same as if you had low cholesterol because there are no side effects, no symptoms of having high cholesterol.

quote by Mark Spitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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635 Milk The Elixir Of Life

MILK - One of God's preciuos gifts
For all who seek to live
Of all the food that passes lips
This has the most to give.
And when we from our Mothers feed
Her milk provides our every need.

The milk of cows and goats and sheep
Sustains us in our later life
An elixir before we sleep
It calms our nerves and eases strife
What is the secret of this stuff
Milkaholics just can't get enuff.

We know that milk is mostly water
There's almost eighty eight percent
There's protein - fat and carbohydrate
And calcium to give bones strength.
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day
It sure will help you on your way.

Full-fat milk makes ladies fertile
And it tastes much nicer too
Leave the skimmed milk for the slimmers
While you enjoy your creamy goo.
Jersey Milk has FIVE POINT THREE
Fresian much less - Oh dear me! ! !

Milk is a rich source of vitamins
A and D and E and K
Lactose gives our milk its sweetness
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day.
Drinking milk instead of coffee
Keeps you calm and much less stroppy.

Natural milk is prone to curdle
So we have to Pasteurise
Killing all the dee-dum-durdle
Homogenise and Sterilise.
When next in't Country - it's my vow
To drink my milk straight from the cow! ! !

Milk provides a range of products
Cream - Butter - Cheese and Yoghurt too
Without which life would be much poorer
No Camembert or Danish Blue.
When our palates we would please
We judge a country by its Cheese.
I'll sing the praise of English Cheeses
Cheddar - Cheshire - Wenslydale
Lancahire and Regal Stilton
From pastures lush in Leicester Vale.
Christmastime with Port & Stilton
In Terraced House or at the Hilton.

My 'Ode to Milk' is not complete
Without a mention of 'Best Butter'
'Farmhouse' from the pasture sweet
The taste? 'A Pastoral Ode by Rutter'.
And never let me utter words obscene
Unsaturated Fats and tatseless Margarine.

poem by John Knight
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Buttercup

This morning there’s blankness in my mind,
which is quite unusual for me to find.
The creative process has all but dried up,
but then I thought of a buttercup.

A buttercup comes to mind with a golden glow,
as though kissed by sunlight for a special show.
As children we placed a buttercup under our chin
and were amazed by its reflection onto our skin.

It was said that if a bright yellow glow was seen,
you preferred butter on your bread to margarine.
A child’s way of passing a warm summer’s day,
as you sat on the grass letting time slip away.

poem by Orlando Belo
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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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Love your children with all your hearts, love them enough to discipline them before it is too late. ... Praise them for important things, even if you have to stretch them a bit. Praise them a lot. They live on it like bread and butter and they need it more than bread and butter.

quote by Lavina Christensen Fugal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Familiarity

it is all bland
tasteless
like routine
unlike the kiss
that you first
planted
on her hair

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How is the government going to run without people like us? We make 35 percent of the bread in this country, and that much of the margarine, and cooking oil, and all the other things.

quote by Dwayne Andreas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shifts

you shift from poetry
with regret you must
get into the ramifications
of the law of bread and
butter, you want to kill
time and just lay there,
the law, the law, how
dry can these laws be,
you gaze outside the
window, sighing, looking
to the blue sea and
feeling the breeze salty
to your brain, ahhh, it
is this salt of the earth,
talking. I shift my head
now to these lines,
i live for the moment.
now, back to what i
detest, this bread, this
butter, i too live here.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you don't mind smelling like peanut butter for two or three days, peanut butter is darn good shaving cream.

quote by Barry Goldwater
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Jester’s Kingdom

Inflict a wound
Serve a purpose
Do as you’re told
Serve a purpose

Cut the throat
Save a soul

Let’s see who gives a damn
Worlds forgotten
Blinded pathways

Lost soul’s die
Corruption reigns supreme
Religious hypocrites
Ride the crusaders corpses

Inflict a wound
Serve a purpose
Do as you’re told
Make me proud

A jester’s kingdom
Bastards live above
The broken man

Twist his hand
Pay penance
Thy lord commands thee
Murder innocent children
Convert, destroy, convert, destroy

poem by Paul Fisher
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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
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United Kingdom

Theres a gang Ive just joined
Theres a gang Ive just joined
Three million strong youd agree
Four million strong youd agree
Enrollment was easy, so easy
Getting out proves to be the difficulty
From lands end to john ogroats
From lands end to john ogroats
They are making ends meet
Mending holes in their coat
Fasting and feasting on bread and margarine
Burning dreams build upon buried hopes
United kingdom - youd better ring them
Youve a solution - you better bring them
United kingdom - united kingdom
Youve a solution - you better bring them
Opportunity, I guess they all came and went
Finding it hard
Finding the rent youll find it funny
With your finger running down
Situations vacant
In school he was an athlete
Now hes not so self-assured
After all of these o-levels is this my reward?
Theres a silent majority, thats seen and
Never heard from charles i, charles ii
To charles iii
United kingdom - youd better ring them
Youve a solution - you better bring them
United kingdom - united kingdom
This busted, rusted, upper-crusted
Bankrupted done and dusted
No-man-to-be-trusted united kingdom
Proud to stand beneath the union jack?
Happy dealing up a no ace pack?
Polishing black boots
Priming the riot squad
There go I but for the grace of god
Covering up the agony with mindless entertainment
Youll be happy when theyre ripping up the pavement
Bringing down the axe on steelworks and foundries
Someone said love knows no boundaries
Close your eyes and think of england
Lie back and think of her
United kingdom - you better ring them
Youve a solution - you better bring them

song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butter.

Butter

Butter, like love,
seems common enough
yet has so many imitators.
I held a brick of it, heavy and cool,
and glimpsed what seemed like skin
beneath a corner of its wrap;
the decolletage revealed
a most attractive fat!

And most refined.
Not milk, not cream,
not even creme de la creme.
It was a delicacy which assured me
that bliss follows agitation,
that even pasture daisies
through the alchemy of four stomachs
may grace a king's table.

We have a yellow bowl near the toaster
where summer's butter grows
soft and sentimental.
We love it better for its weeping,
its nostalgia for buckets and churns
and deep stone wells,
for the press of a wooden butter mold
shaped like a swollen heart.

poem by Connie Wanek
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The Sorows Of Werther

WERTHER had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.

Charlotte was a married lady,
And a moral man was Werther,
And for all the wealth of Indies,
Would do nothing for to hurt her.

So he sigh'd and pined and ogled,
And his passion boil'd and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.

Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-conducted person,
Went on cutting bread and butter.

poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Sorrows of Werther

Werther had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.

Charlotte was a married lady,
And a moral man was Werther,
And, for all the wealth of Indies,
Would do nothing for to hurt her.

So he sighed and pined and ogled,
And his passion boiled and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.

Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-coducted person,
Went on cutting bread and butter.

poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Kingdom of One

This exploitative supersizer stands
In the fires of envious aggrandizing
Stoking self-centric delusional grandeur
With the gasses of his invented felicity.
He throws his simple poison darts at
Us who deal with his ostentatious predilection
For aggravated agitation's precocious desire.

He blows his inflatable stories up with hot air,
Expanding to epic proportions
The vacant cavity of his hollow reality
Above all we could ever dream of
Or ever hope to be for he is better than we,
And we are nothing more than weeds
To be scythed with the blade of his tongue.

He gloats and drives us to derision
With the tasteless virtuosity of his eminence
In his ultra-phantasmal kingdom of one,
Where he reigns and reigns supreme
In his paper castle and palace of cards.

Pity this self-important maximizer who
Seethes in the fires of envy, for he will burn.
Lament this jealous aggrandizer who
Stands in the fleeting gasses of invented felicity,
For they will dissipate and he will implode.

And when it all comes tumbling down,
There will be nothing left of the pile
That was made of nothing before.

poem by D.E. Navarro
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