baking peanut butter cookies, created in haste
salivating in anticipation of their sugary taste
oven cannot heat up fast enough to satisfy me
I eat a couple of raw ones, two or maybe three.
Beware, timid taste buds—this dish looks bold,
Under the creamy sauce hides flavor, not fire.
Tomatoes whisper sweetness, butter sings softly,
Turmeric and friends merely gossip—not riot.
Even those who think ketchup is “too spicy”
Realize the panic was greatly exaggerated.
Mild curry perfumes the air like a warm welcome,
And naan bread stands ready as a tasty shield.
Skeptics take one cautious bite… then another,
And suddenly their plates look mysteriously empty.
Laughter follows the discovery that “spicy”
Actually means “please pass me more.”
Chicken swims happily in buttery clouds,
Hearts melt faster than the sauce in the pan.
If your tongue survives mayonnaise, you’ll be fine.
Come bravely to the table—no fire extinguisher needed.
Keep calm, chew slowly, enjoy the adventure.
Every bite converts another spice-nervous soul.
Now who said flavor had to be frightening?
I owe George Washington Carver
I would not want to live in a world
without peanut butter
I hope that he knows this
He is in my nightly prayers
A sandwich of peanut butter,
be it with or without jelly,
is just the thing that I need
to satisfy my belly.
So, if you have a jar of Jif,
with or without chunks,
a butter knife is what we need
to smooth out all the glunks.
We'll also need a slice of bread,
with or without crust,
and a plumber's helper
to clear our esophagust.
The ads and displays are everywhere
crowding entries and doorways.
There are even commercials on monitors—
I can’t escape.
I rush in for a few items and conversation
but choices offered seem bigger than life.
Signs that say save and save
implore that you spend more.
I pass by an aisle of more types
of bread than I could imagine
leading to a myriad of types
of peanut butter.
I must confess I couldn’t find
the peanut butter with jelly
that delighted my tongue
when I worked long, hot days
with construction crews
some other time and place.
Every small town I passed
nestled along narrow highways
had a name on a water tower
as it pierced the sky.
I long to go to a quiet place
and list my memories
a collage of the life
I’ve known.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cinnamon-dusted,
dough remembers Mother's hands~
warm as her embrace.
Pressed between childhood tales,
each sweet cookie sings of home.
Sorgham swirls slow,
dark as wintertime at six.
the oven hums low~
patient, like my grandmother
caroling hymns in her sleep.
Cookies crowd the rack
still soft at the edges where
time hasn’t touched them.
Bite by bite the year unwinds~
memories blend into space.
I have raised a popcorn eating dog
he gobbles like a garbage-eating hog
crunch crunch crunch he likes it a lot
refrigerator opens, it is butter he’s sought
sink full of dishes
rubbish bin overflowing
damp clothes filter through ~
chaos and stars rise
sellotaped window gives smile
Sirius does too ~
dance one step at time
upheaval rises to laugh
floral socks threadbare ~
peanut butter bread
ants eat crumbs while pen cold waits
cracked chaos chortle ~
When dining with he who calls the tune
remember to pull your punches
don't bite the hand that feeds you
if you know where your lunch is
discretion is the better part of valour
when you want your meal and eat it too
best not upset the apple cart
if you want it handed on a plate to you
and don't forget to butter your bread
on both sides ere you start to sup
as should you drop it on the floor
it will always land butter-side up
peanut butter cookies are easy for me
one cup of sugar wild and free
one egg stirred as I mutter
one cup of any old peanut butter
wonderful if baked ten minutes, truly nifty
be sure and set the over to three fifty
Butter Fly
the butter
~* *~
* *
* *
fly
that flied away
that broke
the heart
that put to skids
the board on skates
the kid o
\ /
p q
\o o/
~ ~ ~ ~
his head in the clouds
~ ~ ~ \ * / * \ * /~ ~ ~
he
skates
away
…
he
forgets
…
for his grandmother
this butter fly’s under lock and key
shes sweet and salty
reeses peanut butter cup
I cant resist her
What adds the best taste to some kinds of food?
It’s useful and so flavorful to me.
Not many foods I think from it I'd exclude.
Boring without it, some things would be!
For years, maybe eons, butter has been used.
Taste-wise, I’d say it rarely gets abused.
So butter me up like a buttercup – with love,
for butter has a taste I’ll never grow tired of.
Simmer veggies in it. Spread it all over bread.
I eat it on popcorn. I’m better-butter-fed!
One ingredient peanut butter fudge -
you don't even have to budge.
All you need to have's a spoon.
Serve in the morning or afternoon.
----------BOOK----------
Some sort of book,
Everybody needs.
Good book, bad book,
Fulfills your greed.
Light book, nice book,
Whatever you need.
Some sort of book,
Everybody needs.
Good book, good look,
Just take a peek.
Everybody needs
A book each week.
Red book, black book,
On what you agreed.
Some sort of book,
Everybody needs.
Bad book, cheap book,
Nothing will shatter.
After reading books,
You work like butter.
Gold book, silver book,
Whatever you plead.
Some sort of book,
Everybody needs.
Eat book, sleep book,
Read—no matter.
Knowledge is the thing
You spread and scatter.
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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.