"butta" poems
Giovanni the Pizza Guy (Pronounce "a" as "uh")
Giovanni,you make a de savory tomato
and de thicka white creamy alfredo
you are a de pizza guy, amor'e
Si', I make a de homemade paste
she's a richer for you taste
and that's a part of my story.
I make a de pizza pie
I make a it to please
you wanna de pepperoni
or you wanna de plain cheese ?
I am a you waiter I take a you order
when you food-she a comes
she make a you mouth water
I make a de perfect pizza
in me you should a trust
you wanna de thicka or de thinna crispy crust?
I can make a spagetti or make a zucchini
butta for you , I make a linguine
I can make a de sauce red
I can make a it white
after you taste-you wanna more bite
I make a de spagetti -she's a made a with love
I cook a real slow you order ahead ;
or you take a to go.
I putta de stuff on de top
I give a you wine or a some pop
Uno momento, will you please
I must a cut a de cheese
I am a you pizza guy to make a you pizza pie
Why must a you stay a at home
when a you can a dine a in a Rome ?
I save a you a table
I tell a you a fable
I fill a you pants
I make a you dance
I make a de sauce thick
I make a de sauce thin
I make a you laugh
I make a you grin !
Si', Please a come a back ; see a Giovanni again!
CHOW FOR NOW, BELLISIMA !
Nov 26, 2010
Nov 26, 2010 at 2:45 PM UTC
I kame back home
To feed the kitten and butta bean
Butta **** his nikname
He's ma lil labrador
Big fat pickle nose
And his lil butta bean head
Makes me luvs him so much
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Scrivimi sempre, in ogni stagione:
Nel freddo d’inverno, nel caldo d’estate...
Ti prego di farmi saper le ragioni
Di vivere qui – la pazzia nonostante.
Se scrivi, mi alzo oltre il dolore,
Se sogni, mi chiedo se è la pietà
Che mi fa pensare a te nel rumore
Che mi butta via dal' nostra realtà.
Scrivimi sempre, in ogni stagione:
Nel bianco d’inverno, nel verde d’estate...
Facendomi creder i suoni ascoltati,
E fantasticare coll’ale baciate.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
Less ‘ave a spot of fun, shall we?
Sumfin fun to do in ma spare time fo no particula reason,
An’ I like ta share it wif you.
Drop the T’s and pronounce yeh U’s like ew’s
Enunciation is key on heavy consonant words.
Forget practicality an be silly wif it.
Pretending fo a moment,
That there is a glob of peana butta,
On the ref of yeh mouf.
****** ell and bullocks only take it so far,
Yew must remain natural wif towne
But, simply mumble mimzy’s
Followed by ratulsnakes ‘n’ wota fawllls.
Tha best practice comes wif accenting ull day.
An than ull tha kids will think its ace!
Dowent get aggro, jus ease into it.
An fa ***** sake its Herb not erb.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 6:18 PM UTC
WHEN I WAS JUST A LITTLE BOY
I USED TO ASK MY “MUDDA”
DON’T GIVE ME PEAS OR BROCOLLI
JUST BRING ME PEANUT BUTTA
I’D DIP MY FINGER IN THE JAR
AND SCOOP IT IN MY MOUTH
THEN WAIT FOR ABOUT AN HOUR OR SO,
FOR IT TO SLIDE DOWN SOUTH
I USEO TO EAT THE KIND CALLED “SMOOTH”
BUT QUICKLY SWITCHED TO "CHUNKY"
I LIKED THE WAY IT TASTED
SORTA GRITTY, KINDA FUNKY
SKIPPY, JIFF AND PETER PAN
WHERE BRANDS I LIKED THE BEST
I’D OFTEN LINE UP ALL THREE JARS
AND HAVE A TASTE TEST-FEST
BUT CHOOSING BRANDS WAS EASY
FOR MY MOM WHO WAS SO WISE
SHE’D EYE EACH ONE SO CAREFULLY
THEN BUY THE LOWEST “PRICE”
YEA, WITH SOME JAM.. ON WONDERBREAD
OH WHAT A DELICIOUS TREAT!
I REMEMBER ALL THE GOOEY GOODNESS
HOW MUCH FUN IT WAS TO EAT
BUT NOW I’VE GIVEN UP THAT SNACK
MY CHILDHOOD TASTES I’VE TRADED
I’M OLDER AND MY PALATE
HAS BECOME SOPHISTICATED
I NOW EAT FOOD THAT’S LOW IN SALT
AND SATURATED FAT
BUT WHEN I WANT TO CHEAT A BIT?...
“HEY SKIPPY, WHERE YOU AT”!!!!
Sep 4, 2011
Sep 4, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
just moments ago, i went online and tapped Google
if some miraculous spell
could be drawn out of thin air
cause (this house husband
feels a bit embarrassed to divulge),
but at present,
the will to live aye cannot bear
cuz after an ample lather of soap and shampoo,
ah pronounced heady effect became immediately clear
where times gone by
(even as late as early January
tooth how sand and eighteen),
the strands clumped, glommed, and matted together
as sieve ma noggin got sat upon by a deer
no matter after shaking head banging fashion
(imagine rock stars of yore
whipping their wild locks) from ear to e'er
butta noah such dizzy inducing antics
resulted in absolutely no fluffiness,
hence my worse fear
(irrational?) yes, an obsession i.e.
thy hirsute outgrowth fixation dated back
tummy boyhood when cranky gear
and defective cogs somehow impacted
preoccupation concerning
every singular follicle fostering hair
strand, but during prepubescence,
this now grown man took a fancy
to this, that, or the other lad,
who sported a style envied yours truly,
hie wished said thatch tubby upon mine
ma lil oblate spheroid,
and pleaded (weathered and in vane)
with fate to make magically ap pear
this, tis minuscule wiggle room
to muster support from rear
guard, hook offer me wiggle room
asthma body electric goes on a manic tear
precious seconds ticking closer
to the final count down where
this mwm might remain bed ridden
for an entire year.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
Well there’s Hooverville
on the edge of the river
haint nuttin boot flimsy cardboard
e’en with clothes will shiver
waiting for tension to be released
like a arrow in a taut quiver
major organs ready to burst open
cuz day r all a failin'
unless salvation does da liver
from a stingy farmer
nada one of him a giver
Hence a goin to Cali for n’ya
in battered up truck n wailin wah wah
ta feed da chill n beasts o burr den –
‘cept un shaw
if me pa
will ever appear on Oprah
whar guest’s literary car –
rears into grand prix hoopla
An win free dim lifts us lock a hawk,
this kid rock will nah
dat he suffered faw a distant few cha
migrants we may be – butta we bah
dog on judas priest, Christ and allah
Rose of Sharon wool extend
da family tree
dat ma will live to see
re:
charging the Joad jalopy
in part from me
tink rin hands dat like ta mess
with oil hand stains
one mo scar – craning neck 2 earn
An huh tha red badge of courage
upon this Okie
hunched o’er with stiff back
while wounded knee
continually bunged up with utter glee
at engine cough fin smoke
to *** us free
whar we kin sally in da pacific fields yipeee.
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
I have to say why me
While watching the news on tv
And it happens more frequently
Looking at the spokespeople I see
There’s the advisor Kellyanne
Of whom I used to be a big fan
Then there’s that Sean Spicer man
And Steve Miller whom they need to ban
It makes me want to revolt
When I hear them start to emote
Cos they lie about the vote
And give numbers that just won’t float
Butta-boom butta-bing
They lie about everything
And the president is the wellspring
That causes those canaries to sing
It’s fake news if he disagrees
With the reporting that he sees
Which makes him very displeased
And he hates those who eat the cheese
So he’s trying to plug all the leaks
Of which he frequently speaks
And he stays on the topic for weeks
While they continue to wet their beaks
So you understand why I’m tired
And remain so uninspired
When I see the people he’s hired
None are to be admired
Cos they all speak with forked tongues
As they try to climb all the rungs
By using their wits and their lungs
And we wait for what next comes
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 6:28 PM UTC
Let it stream
Be believable
be-come a beacon an
What am I butta heathen
So to me **** talk is a cakewalk
I'll chalk it always
Straight up Block it outta memry
Non-stop
Vestiges
I Never been so
Non- chalant
Null in void
So numb to it
But sometimes heaven hits
... And after a billion epiphanies
A weakened soul
Can be made redeemable
All on my own now
Apr 19, 2024
Apr 19, 2024 at 1:25 AM UTC