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Jay Nov 2018
My one and only.... The only thing in life that truly fills me up with energy . I feel at times I can run like a cheetah , oh peanut butter my love how could I ever cheat her...

Each moment away from your nutty presence fills me with such pangs of pain , but when I see you, my happiness , I truly can't contain, oh how my life without you would be truly mundane...

Your taste is exquisite , indeed when your finished I always miss it , my apologies if my feelings for you are too explicit....

Its a shame you cost a pretty penny in the shops, I wish I could always afford you...but then again I like other food as well...

Until next time P.B... bye.... I miss you...
Previously deleted it, because I thought it was bad however a friend quite liked it and recommended I make it public.

As always I hope you enjoy
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
I love you to pieces.
All of you being my favorite.
After a long day, I look forward to seeing you.
Being around you.
I constantly loose myself in your eyes.
Every moment with you a blessing.
Whether it's early in the morning
Or late at night.
I love every moment.
My chocolate peanut butter craving starts and ends with you.
I can't help but smile.
Thankful that your not wrapped in tin foil.
A moment of trust easily accessible.
By far the greatest gift I could ever receive.
I accept all of you.
Delectable pieces poured into my hands.
Sensually sharing hidden parts of ourselves.
Every inch uncovered beneath coated chocolate.
Creamy peanut butter.
Soon melted away by tastes desire.
It's practical to see why I have to call in sick.
Spending all my time with you.
Your taste still on my lips.
Stomach still aching.
My chocolate peanut butter craving.
Thank you for being you
Joshua Haines Jan 2017
Tonight is for peanut butter
and blue dreams,
soaked in ***** blasts.
I feel okay but my friends are
dead and it will always last.
Don't count on me
to care too much.
Don't care for me,
because you can't
count on me.

I've remembered the neon signs;
all the life I've left behind.
It's not easy being lost at twenty-three;
my bark is hard but I'm
a rotting tree.
SummertimeLace Aug 2016
I am but a mere jar of peanut butter

sitting on a shelf
because mostly that's
where I tend to leave myself

If you come and get me
then clearly you will see
labels that are printed
all over me

if you do not fancy
then fine throw me out
but if you think you'll like me
then its on our way to checkout

on our way to checkout
then to the car
to your little home
near or far

hard plastic outside
cool to the touch
at first I really truly
do not look like much

but when you dig down
and open me up
I'm soft
I'm sweet
and so unlike my shell
my labels sometimes lie
never really tell

I am but a mere jar of peanut butter

Pick me over fish?
know there'll be some work involved
proceed as you wish
So, okay, are you listening?
Being a monkey means
many things...
It also means loving,
not just bananas,
but the people who love
bananas, and monkeys too!

Listen to me in your heart,
pay attention now, person,
and this is gonna be
the best smoothie ever!

Bananas come first, of course,
then yogurt, vanilla, of course,
a BIG spoon of peanut butter..
Yes, really!
Trust me!
Cinnamon to jazz it up,
water to smoothen it...
we are calling this a smoothie
And for extra-special, maple syrup,
to give it a heavenly touch!

Now cover your ears,
which are almost as sensitive
as mine, and ... Oh!

How do you push the button
with your fingers over your ears!
For the child in every heart, and every child.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
Chris McNeilan May 2015
Gallivanting through the perilous previously undiscovered nonsensical cavern, I found myself in awe of the ridiculously unrealistic statuette of a great horned owl staring deeply into half eaten jar of peanut butter. I turned to my comrades only to discover that they had all vanished from their usual placement. Without batting an eye I reached out for the neglected jar of a friend of jelly and began devouring it.  At that moment the owl began to hoot so loud the earth began rumbling. I set the delicious spread on the floor and the rumbling stopped, yet my gut was telling me something was amiss. Pulling out my unnecessary spectacles I gazed upon the once unrealistic hooting owl. It didn't take but just a second for me to realize the statuette was not made of stone but was a living creature drenched in an exuberant amount of super glue, so much so that it was rendered motionless, excluding the beak of course. I ran my fingers along the base where this magnificent bird sat. Through the dust I felt indentations which at first feel felt like nothing, but upon closer inspection it was clear that it was a message. Once found I became increasingly intrigued, and so removing my over sized magnifying glass, a sheet of paper, and my one of a kind all jade fountain pen I began deciphering the inscription. To my amazement it just happened to say one line of glory. It read "ababa ababa " now to the untrained eye that is just babble, but to me it meant so much more for I m fluent in Ababa. Years of exploration had finally paid off, I picked up the sad peanut butter, dipping my finger deep into the godly snack and then proceeded to shove it into the beak of the stiff bird. What happened next was so unexpected I nearly passed out from excitement. Regaining my composure I walked forward into the unearthed chamber filled with the only other thing more powerful than the jar of creamed nuts, tacos. In the middle of the room lay an unconscious yet beautiful woman. I came to her and spoke softly "ababa bab babaaaba" which is the preferred greeting of their culture. She arose swiftly, grabbed me in her arms and in a flash I was transformed and transported to a city high above the clouds. I looked down at my hands and only saw wings, looking outward towards the city seeing that I was now apart of the long lost Abab empire, filled with all things great. Tacos were on every corner meatballs grew from trees, the streets were paved in cheese and the houses of gold. Also, **** was considered a holy plant and smoking it blessed you. The only thing missing from this world was my love, it pained me to know I may never see her again. I took it upon myself, as an explorer, to find a way to bring her here. As I was flying through the city I heard a familiar voice coming from the largest and most extravagant house in the city. I flew in quickly and knocked on the twenty foot doors. A butler opened the door and was shocked "Where have you been my lord?" he stammered. Confused, I decided to ignore his question and search for the voice I had heard. I walked for what seemed forever down a dark yet cheery hallway until finally I had entered the throne room. Tears came to my eyes, which was weird because I had no clue owls even had tear ducts, sitting in a slightly smaller throne next to a larger one both made from peanut butter jars yet gold flaked sat my love. I grabbed her up into my now wings and asked how and why she was here. She leaned into me and hesitated then said "Wake up love, I told you eating that weird peanut butter was a bad idea". My eyes shot open only to see my comrades and love staring down at me with a concerned look. I stood up and told them what had happened. In a roar they all laughed and spoke in unison " This is why you don't lace your pb&j; with acid then smoke two blunts". I will never forget the day I turned into an owl even though it was just a dreamilucionation. THE END.
I wrote this about a year or so ago while bored at work. I asked my love to give me topics and she said peanut butter and owls.
Matthew Jul 2014
This poem is thumping like a boulder
at the bottom of a river
And last year’*****
is fighting static on the radio

We sat against the waves
all day yesterday
I still feel the rocking
That anti-movement

The best part of a meal is right when the food arrives
I’d rather stay hungry than be satisfied
to stop wanting
to stop chasing

I sleep on the ground
to be farther away from you

the whole time we were stock images
choreographed feelings
unrealistic props
and a well timed photographer

Now we’re stopping in yesterday’s parking lot
and today’***** has turned jarring.
They’ll be running our circles
long after we die.

I made a dozen
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
before my mother came home
and took the knife out of my hand

I’m running to you
like you’re a pint of Ben & Jerry's
and I'm lactose intolerant

It stays in my mind
like choking on medicine

It’s like that pregnant silence
when the waiter asks
“together or separate?”

It’s like driving up a mountain
or criticizing the lack of representation in a Hallmark movie
alone from my couch.

There’s nothing poetic about stalking you on twitter.
but it’s part of the story so here’s a stanza about it anyway.

[Pause for effect]

I hope next time we meet
you’ll ask me how I am
I’ll tell you I am super
and both of us will believe it

I hope one of us will smile and say
“0ne day”
and the other will notice the typo.

— The End —