"peanut" poems
Kabalo ba mo nga ang love, pag-ibig,
gugma o unsa bay tawag ninyo ana
kay muabot ra nag iyaha?
Di lang jud nuon magsaba
kay wa man gud siyay baba.
Bitaw, unsa man jud tuod diay ng
TRUE LOVE?
O basin THROWN LOVE na ha?
Ana man gud na oh,
sakto na unta!
Siya na unta!
Eh, shunga-shunga man gud ka,
gibuy-an pa jud nimo siya.
Dayon magdangoyngoy ra ba,
maghinuktok ug muingon nga
"Sayang kaayo!"
Apan wa na jud kay mabuhat pa
para ibalik inyong napakyas nga
LOVE STORY.
Sumo biya usahay paminawon
inyong mga pagmahay!
Wa lang jud mi mabuhat
kay bespren biya mi ninyo!
Sige na lang dayon ug hilaka
ug kadugayan PEANUT BITTER na,
hay naku!
Busa, mao ni akong advice sa inyo...
Ana man gud sila nga...
Ang gugma daw mura ra nag itlog...
Basta hugot ra kaayo ang paggunit,
mabuak...
Apan basta luag ra pud,
mahulog ra ug mabuak japun...
busa kanang sakto ra jud...
Unya ako?
Kay danghag man jud kaayo,
busa naa ra ko diri karun
nagsubo ug nag-inusara...
Busa sa di pa mahuman ni akong balak,
naa lang unta koy ipangutana...
Gusto ba ninyo gunitan ang akong itlog?
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
On flat bank’s where
grass runt reeds grow
waiting for rising tide,
A lone Heron stealths silently
while Gulls cry warning, and dive in to a cold sea air.
Phoenix Peanut and Pandora
stranded on wet mud bank,
wait for their chance to escape
but it’s bonds that need to be severed in their quest for freedom.
Estuary lights dim and flicker in the distance while closer to shore Mermaids sing on the breath of a storm.
Beckoning sailors "come ride the waves"
Siren songs of lost souls and shadows
“Come with us” on this bursting sea.
And they sing with a drowning charm
as fishermen launch vessels under a shawl covered wife's watchful eye.
And yesterdays widows weep, face rained bright from navigational lights.
Ships bell ring in time with a rollicking sea,
Pheonix Peanut and Pandora
still await their escape but not this night.
While the Heron has long fled this great swell.
No cries now from gulls nor mothers hurrying their little ones to the safety of their coal fired warm homes.
Just the rage of wave riding mermaids that will have their bounty
the heart and souls from a fisherman life.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 9:34 AM UTC
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
26k
big sweaters, ghibli, acrylic paint, cafes, knit blankets and unplanned afternoon naps on the couch, gardens, bananas, vanilla almond milk, soft yarn to crochet into ****** scarves, candles after midnight, the big trees with bulky roots, patio furniture, pianos in random buildings, the internet, manatees, the boundless colours of nail polish, peanut butter & honey, rubber boots, pens that write well, fresh new notebooks, skylights, american netflix, mothers that understand, tête à têtes, one glass of sweet white wine, awkward eye contact that turns into comfortable kissing, airplanes, fresh air, baseball caps, the female collective, the really good dark chocolate, flowers, pumpkin spice lattes and ***** chai lattes, candid laughter, yoga, oceans, high waisted shorts, striped t-shirts, docile cats, playful pups, french presses, integrity, sunscreen, meerkats, penguins, chameleons, autumn leaves, fall fashion, ruby woo mac lipstick, osho, dynamic meditation, compassion, siblings, scrambled eggs, smart phones, garageband, metronomes, hot glue guns, quinoa, ferry boats, soft hands, bicycles, real people, fat snowflakes in ample, graceful ********** backpacks that don't hurt your shoulders, hair conditioner, multi-vitamins, soft sand under bare feet, people that own up to lies, clarity, samsara, satori, samasati, visions, echinacea, lavender oil and frankincense, ambrosia apples and ripe avocados, authenticity, Morgan Freeman's voice, good kissers, ******* iced tea on a hot day, curtains, the smell of beeswax, art galleries, hand massages and foot massages, reiki, plums, mild thunderstorms, soccer ***** good surprises, when birds don't **** on your head.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
Its interesting to be in a home so different than mine. A home where almost always two people at least are in the living room, bonding. My family I love, but we are always in our respective corners; father in the basement, brother in his room, mother in the living space, and I around randomly, uncertain where and who to belong with.
This weekend I visit Hockey House, the affectionate name I'm giving my boyfriend's home. I mean it full of affection, because they are brought together by movies and food and especially hockey.
In my home we are only brought together by food and then we run to the hills for our alone time. Very odd entirely, because of the extroversion holding my heart.
I guess as I grow, I find a disconnect with the family who is so different from me. My mother, though the easiest to be with, can be a staunch, stubborn hypocrite when it comes to all things social. My father is a determined conservative who opposes all I believe in. Brother is being molded into the man my father wants as his son, which is slowly distancing me from him.
When I'm home, I'm a repressed me, who keeps her tongue latched inside her mouth, and keeps her head down as to not get attacked. Even the natural peanut butter I asked for became a battlefield of who was right and who was wrong, not just a happy cheer for me being healthier.
Its odd in a house I've only been twice I can be less afraid than in my own home. I guess things change when you become the person you want to be instead of the adult your parents want to be proud of.
Maybe its easier here because I care less if they judge me, while my parents judgment terrifies me. Parents tend to be scary gods who rule your life, and to let them topple in your eyes is something all more traumatizing to watch.
I still love my parents, as children do, but there's a disconnect between who we are that cannot be passed.
Love can exist everywhere, but it cannot transcend all obstacles, and that, truly, is what terrifies me most.
I never want to lose my parents, but I cannot lose myself either.
Only time will tell, and I guess I'll just enjoy college and my times at Hockey House.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
Dipped in milk
Or eaten plain
Chocolate like silk
Cookies&Cream;
Peanut butter
****** Butter
Oreo's
Who to blame
Sneaking in the night
Only for a bite
Sweet and touchy
Creamy and crunchy
Let the sugar rush come
Oh, now hand me a tum
Upset tummy
My nose is runny
What's this i hear?
I can't take sweets as I please?
Oh, come on...
You can't blame the cookies!
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
it's time for christmas baking
whether you know how to or not
the thing you must remember
is that the oven gets quite hot
it's not that i'm an imbesile
or that my mind is set on slow
there's things 'bout christmas baking
that everyone should know
turning up the temperature
will not make things bake much quicker
and you'll never get your baking done
if you start hitting the liquor
liquor helps but not that way
it's for the the recipe...not you
because the first drink goes down smooth
it always tastes like two
my icing stuck to everything
it even melted on my cat
the dog thought fluffy was his treat
and that my friends was that
metal in the microwave
makes great sparks but doesn't cook
in fact it's quite explosive
if you take the time to look
peanut butter rollups
are easy and look cool
but with so many kids allergic
you can't sell them at the school
the best way to do baking
is to buy them from the store
put them on a plate you own
and don't say any more
if people want the recipe
say it's secret, you can't tell
you're granny took it to her grave
besides, they all do this as well
take my advice on baking
don't bake if you can buy
because you'll never get it perfect
no matter how you try.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
My mom used to tell me when I was a kid
that thank you note is important.
To let people know that you're thankful,
and appreciate their efforts.
As I grow older,
I'm so used on writing thank you notes
with the same template on every note.
But I, or we, tend to forget to write one
for those who cope with our lives.
So I wrote this one is for you.
Thank you for letting me crash in your place
when I was far from sober,
almost on every Friday nights.
You literally picked me up when I'm down.
On the grown.
Thank you for staying up with me until 5
even when you got a big meeting
at 8 in the morning.
Because you know how much I hate sleeping,
but I'll be the bitchiest *****
if you try to wake me up.
Thank you for bringing me a bouquet
of fake flowers
instead of the real one.
You sure know me way too well
to know that I can't keep real flowers alive.
Or cactus, or fishes, or my phone's battery.
Yea, my phone's battery *****
But you trust me to keep what we have, alive.
And lasts as long as it possibly could.
Thank you for making every queue line
less boring with all your dad jokes,
they made me think that
you're a qualified good father
to your future kids.
Or maybe ours.
But I hate children and you love them,
as much as I hate karaoke
and as much as you love it.
But gosh, you made me think of adopting.
We are nothing but night and day.
A thunderstorm and a rainbow.
A cactus and a peony.
A manageable chaos and
a managed you.
And yet we compliment each other like
peanut butter and pickle on a sandwich.
Sure, it's one of the weirdest combination
but somehow it goes surprisingly fine.
I swear I'm not going to make this cheesy
but if it was, well,
****
I know this is not what you imagine
to be with me
in the first place
when you slipped into my life.
But I thank you,
for deciding to stay.
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 7:42 PM UTC
everything is on sale
and I eat and eat
and yell at the couple
arguing in the ATM line
and smirk at the pharmacist
as I toss my meds in the
can behind the counter
king soopers
my realm
of crushed potpourri
honeycrisp apples
black cocktail dresses
stuck
shut with
peanut butter
I love grocery
shopping.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
Purple, blue, pink, and green,
Waves of color fill the room.
Crisp cold air, We hide
beneath the walls of blankets.
Words spoken twice,
Spastic moments.
Hilarious pictures pinned to boards,
giggles shatter late night silence.
Tanks with treasure spilling over,
Fish swimming back and forth.
Cereal, and sometimes milk,
Wait to be eaten.
Movie nights, and roommate dinners,
Granola hostages, and hidden peanut butter.
All these things define who we are,
Roommates.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 8:30 PM UTC
Cookies, Cookies which ones to make?
Cookies, Cookies which ones to bake?
Is it oatmeal for him? sugar for me?
Ooh! these jam ones look scrumptious (in the picture) you see?
Will it be bran for momma, or peanut butter for sis?
Oh, I could cook them all and someone's favorite still miss.....
I could wash, and I could dust & sweep and mop , till i'm dead,
but alas, if you watch, I'll be baking instead because I have cookies in my head.
Cookies, Cookies, which ones to make
Cookis, Cookies, which ones to bake?
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 1:22 AM UTC
M&Ms; and 7up
Hershey's bar
Reese's Peanut Butter Cup
Snickers and a drink of Mountain Dew
There are three flavors of Charleston Chew
Twix; Twin Bing
Salted Nut Roll is king
I really could eat them after / with anything
Breakfast, lunch, dinner and in between
I bought me a candy bar
It was made with carmel nougat and cream
I'm gonna eat it
Oh yeah, my tummy will scream
My little obsession
It's a bit obscene
There is no tummy ache that could come between
SUGAR!!!
And this chocolate fiend
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
I'm so passed overthinking
My overthinking over thinks
The thinking I'm overthinking
To the point I'm thinking over
What's over thought and I thought
I was over this
Just didn't think it over enough
dilemma dilemma
yeap
Hold on we're in for a bumpy ride
Airwaves collide
I'm pretty sure we've been here before
I'm confused
What was the thought
Somewhere amongst this chaos
I forgot the original thought
Now I'm overthinking
A thought that can't be found
Wait wait
Oh yes I remember now
The thought was simply
Peanut butter or jelly
On the last piece of toast
So both
Or one
But which
Rock
Paper
Scissors
How do I answer this
It's an impossible equation
1+1 is good
1+the other is good
1+2 makes 1
But I wanted to share it with you
So now there's not enough
Either way
So what do you prefer
Before my brain cells implode
Giving up on the hope
I'll ever make a decision
That will justify the reason
Why I'm overthinking
What to feed you for breakfast in bed
Maybe just coffee...
Wait which brand?
How strong?
More or less sugar?
Too much creamer!
**** it I'm going to work
Everything *****
When over-thought thoughts
Become thoughts we've been over
Overthinking themselves
Into non-existence
And I forget how
I started this conversation with myself
Or what it no longer pertains to
What was I talking about again?
Oh yeah do I have everything
What did I forget
Wallet
Keys
Phone
Socks
Shoes
Pants
Shirt
Necklace
Hat
30 minutes later it'll remind me
I woke up hungry
Couldn't decide what to feed myself
It's too late, I'm late for work
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 1:59 AM UTC
I see curves everywhere.
Curves on
the tidal wave,
spreaded peanut butter on a toast,
the crescent moon, and
a women's waist.
But the one curve I need is
the cold beer that crashes into the bottom of
an empty, chilled glass.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
do it for the ***** Laura
yes
sore for all the reasons
because sometimes i want
a **** that destroys jeans
and all forms of pants unequivocally
feel powerful
workout the body
and rip the peanut butter lid off the jar
proclaim to the universe
i have something that you should all stare
at
i
go home
and
eat chips and salsa
and
think nothing of it
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
Alam n'yo ang love, pag-ibig
o ano bang tawag n'yo d'yan,
kusang 'yang dumarating
di nga lang nagsasabi kasi wala 'tong bibig
(hayyy naku! naman oh!)
Pero ano ba kasi ang true love?
O baka kaya'y throw love na naman?
(tawa muna bago maging seryoso ang usapan)
Ito kasi yun, tama na sana! S'ya na sana!
Eh shunga-shunga ka eh!
Boy Gago! Lady Gaga! Pinakawalan mo pa.
(kaya ayun! iyak iyak na naman ang drama)
At napatanga sabay sabing
"Sayang!"
At wala ka ng magagawa
upang maibalik pa ang naudlot na love story n'yo.
(wag mo nang ipagkaila, tama ako noh?)
Nakakasawa rin naman pakinggan
ang mga hinaing n'yo!
Wala kaming hearing aid,
bespren n'yo lang kami!
(ano ba, tama na kasi! kasalanan mo rin yan!)
Puro pait at pighati na lamang ba?
Kaya ang isa sa inyo
naging PEANUT BITTER na!
(nakakasawa talaga, talagang talagang talaga!)
Kaya eto na nga'ng advice ko sa inyo...
Sabi kasi nila...
Ang love ay parang daw isang itlog...
'Pag hinigpitan mo ang hawak,
mababasag...
Pero 'pag maluwag naman,
mahuhulog lang at mababasag din...
kaya dapat tama lang...
Yung alam n'yong akma lang
sa eksena...
Kaya eto ako ngayon,
malungkot at nanggiginaw ang puso...
(hahahaist...)
Kaya bago matapos 'tong tula ko,
magtatanong muna ako...
Sino bang may gustong humawak ng itlog ko?
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 12:32 PM UTC
Opinions like dough, gruesome and cloying, sticking to the tongue like self righteous peanut butter.
Sitting up for the wrong reasons, though it's difficult to get out of bed alone.
Counting calories like counting the number of eyes that pass over this form.
Glances flitting like shadows on cheekbones that aren't cutting, too rounded.
Running towards expectations on the necessary incline towards beautiful.
Sweat and pounds and £s for form fitting clothes, like sickly scales.
Weight resting on the soles of the right shoe for the right path towards the right body.
Weight lifted, muscles straining like Atlas with the weight of the world's eye view.
Memberships paid for, memberships given to the society of those who fit into society.
Take the leftovers, it's funny because the sight of us does not suggest the leaving of necessity.
Tightening belts until the loopholes leave us love even though we lack what is expected.
Leaving our food and gaining what you want.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
she described it as ice
in her chest
like
a lance that tightroped from
her chest to mine
fought over at the breakfast table
because her end was bigger than mine
or mine had more blood than hers
or she always got to look at my good side
and why couldn’t I look at her without laughing
mother always said it was a blessing
that two people were so close to each other
not through birth
but by journey
and life
and happenstance
two people that tasted grilled cheese the same way
that heard the same voices of joy
loss
despair
but always stuck to the roof of the mouth like peanut butter
and not the generic brand
no
the 10 dollar organic stuff
two people that couldn’t help but
crack jokes at the dinner table
when everyone else was talking about
death because
what is death without life?
she would ask
and everyone would go silent
and float up through the
limitless sky
while we stayed grounded in
the life that whiskey brings
sister
if you ever hear me calling
know that I’d give you the bigger half
every time and that
you may borrow my three-hole puncher
without asking
because
I love you
and love stitches time without holes
and moments without the train station goodbye
and the rocks
well
they will always be rippling the stream so you
can go whitewater rafting and I can write poems
about how you fell in and found
a fleck of gold
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
The Atlanta Falcons , defender of the city in a sport of the passionate ! A longtime cold weather tradition of the Peanut State with youth , high school and university alike ......Memories that conjure Van Brocklin , Nobis , Humphrey , Van Note , Bartkowski and Ryan . Fall is for dark green numbered fields , pageantry , struggle as tactician , athlete and opponent mired in battle , bestowing honor , emotion , and pride in the warriors of yesteryear , locked in the spirit of competition , sportsmanship and Georgia folklore !...
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
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QUIVER ALL-MAXIMIZING
SAMUEL DAVID <[email protected]>
3:38 AM (56 minutes ago)
to Daniel
SOAR OWNERSHIP
/ UTTERANCES OUTLABOURED PILGRIMS/
By the creditor at cyprus and on other grounds:
The counter-cedar Venice much unparalleled ever pursuant kindly indigenous street streams far above strange beneath the string ...' Dream castle before the 'Requiring much quill 'Peanut lieutenant great ones of the machinery citation / Worth pillow following purposes invasion with a rainfall bombardment epistle the pearl earning era: Closet by sessions pursue arithmetician diaries ' anchor calculus cumulative arrows propellant / Squadron in the field-refueling ' division visions ...' Upswing within the meaning axle conversion processes proofs / ' Electron icons ' Creation wireless reticence circles: Moon ship's amnesty crest reckon 'flaskbone SpurZebra...' Preferment goes by relieves and affectionate 'Oil The Self-graduation Outpouring / Vagrant above ant strides : Rodrigo peculiar ends demonstration/ Forego the-Outward acclimation : Upon all civility citizenry civil-rises other low less losses below yonder / Phrase of prose -possessions cuss ion syn chronicutensils 'asylum systems beyond stems : Preeminence blown 'being ht-thence quarries hijack travels history/Wherein of plant hours ' spicily spoke ***** Pilgrimage dilutes noble companies 'ago-maximize promptly alacrity; Exhibition the underrating besought levels- of quarry / burden oxidation immune slaughter
Cheap Hill Chips
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
I want to learn to fly, to grab a star, for you and I
I want to float, up to the sky, to grab a star, for you and I
I want to swim, through the clouds to grab a star, for you and I
I want to dance my way up high, to grab a star for you and I
I want to flutter like a butterfly, to the sky, to grab a star for you and I
I never want to say goodbye, so I grab a sttaar for you and I
You are my one and only. You are my peanut butter to my jelly.
I-i-i-i want to fly, very high up in the skyyyyy.
To grab a star for you and IIIIIIII
Your my one and only. You are my teeth to my mouth
I love you so much so let me go to grab a star, for you and I
I want to fly, very very very high uppppp in the skkkyyy to
grab a ssttarrrr foooorrr youuu and IIIIIIIIIIIIII
I want to float, up to the sky, to grab a star, for you and I
I want to swim, through the clouds to grab a star, for you and I
I want to dance my way up high, to grab a star for you and I
I want to flutter like a butterfly, to the sky, to grab a star for you and I
I never want to say goodbye, so I grab a sttaar for you and I
I want to fly up high in the sky, to grab a very big star for you and I
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
I want to lay in my bed
Next to you
At seven in the morning.
"Crepes?"
"Crepes." You say.
I get up
and start the crepe maker
I put out the Nutella
And cut bananas
And pull out the jar of lingonberries that
I love
Even though nobody knows
What lingonberries are.
You ask for peanut butter
And we both know I'm allergic.
But I have a jar
Because I know that
You love it.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
The baby goat's mother was shot.
And I was forced to listen to it cry.
Forever forlorn and distraught
And i stood there- hands covering ears
Traveling back in time
----------------------------------------------------
Your mothers heart stopped
And I was forced to listen to you cry.
Lost in a huge world, more alone
And i stood there- hands covering ears
I heard you through the vents
"My mom is dead! My mom is dead"
Falling to the floor I wished I still dreamt
But she had called me before her bed
I heard her voice message months later
You still cried yourself to sleep at night
Sleeping with earplugs....I wish I didn't bake
Because I thought I killed her that night
Peanut butter cookies:
She taught me the recipe.
And two days before she vanished,
I brought her a dozen.
Autopsy reports showed an hour before death;
She took two bites of my cookies-
Went upstairs and her heart stopped.
Coincidentally exactly four years later,
I finally made peanut butter cookies again
And the smell of sweet peanut butter roasting
Stopped my heart
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC