At the Zoo

There are lions and roaring tigers,
and enormous camels and things,
There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons,
and a great big bear with wings.
There's a sort of a tiny potamus,
and a tiny nosserus too -
But I gave buns to the elephant
when I went down to the Zoo!

There are badgers and bidgers and bodgers,
and a Super-in-tendent's House,
There are masses of goats, and a Polar,
and different kinds of mouse,
And I think there's a sort of a something
which is called a wallaboo -
But I gave buns to the elephant
when I went down to the Zoo!

If you try to talk to the bison,
he never quite understands;

[...] Read more

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Hot Dogs On The Fourth Of July

The BIG BANGS on the fourth of July!
Picnics, fireworks, barbecues, hot dog for everyone!

Cool-dog lay in fresh whole-wheat bun covered with mustard,
ketchup, and onions-thinks it taste better than all others.
Humble- Ilana, one by one, pluck them off 'delicious'

Hot-diddly-dog barked, 'Leave the rest out just cover me
with mayonnaise and sauerkraut! '

Juicy-dog, filled with by products lay in bun with everything on it,
looking like the pigeon dropping that fell on the topping.
Innocence-Kayla said, 'I pass…a hamburger, please! '

Naked-slim-dog stretches out in just a plain toasted bun,
Demure-Kamille sits alone enjoying her bare hot dog

[...] Read more

poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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The Bumboat Woman's Story

I'm old, my dears, and shrivelled with age, and work, and grief,
My eyes are gone, and my teeth have been drawn by Time, the Thief!
For terrible sights I've seen, and dangers great I've run -
I'm nearly seventy now, and my work is almost done!

Ah! I've been young in my time, and I've played the deuce with men!
I'm speaking of ten years past - I was barely sixty then:
My cheeks were mellow and soft, and my eyes were large and sweet,
POLL PINEAPPLE'S eyes were the standing toast of the Royal Fleet!

A bumboat woman was I, and I faithfully served the ships
With apples and cakes, and fowls, and beer, and halfpenny dips,
And beef for the generous mess, where the officers dine at nights,
And fine fresh peppermint drops for the rollicking midshipmites.

Of all the kind commanders who anchored in Portsmouth Bay,
By far the sweetest of all was kind LIEUTENANT BELAYE.'
LIEUTENANT BELAYE commanded the gunboat HOT CROSS BUN,
She was seven and thirty feet in length, and she carried a gun.

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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The Hot Dog and the Bun

The bun said
to the hot dog
I'm open, come on in
you look like you
could use a rest
come lay down in my den!

The hot dog
took the welcome
and with a sudden jump
he dove into the mustard jar
and spread it on his rump!

I'm ready Mr. hot dog bun
and thank you
for the 'hello'
for just as you look good in tan
I too look good in yellow!

poem by Michael Hubbert
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Belly and Thighs Need Not to Collide

I witnessed those buns run.
I remember the times,
That wouldn't be done.
And when they rolled,
It wasn't any fun.
Enormous they were.
And they stunned.

I witnessed those buns run.
I remember the times,
That wouldn't be done.
And when they rolled,
It wasn't any fun.
Enormous they were.
And they stunned.

Determination with a haste takes priority.
When a load begins to slow and start to show.

A belly and thighs need not to collide.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Texture

It is not important,
What it does.
How it does it.
Or if it is viable,
To those who deem it as a need.
If it feels good.
And the texture of it is right...
It will be made to be in demand.
Felt and caressed between one's hands...
Before the stock market is closed!
With the booting of buns.
Whether they are tightly held or not!

'You mean 'bonds'? '

Buns, bonds, balls...
Whatever.
This is about texture!
The feel and the description of it!
Not what they are called.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Run In The Sun...

burn, burn, burn
yourself,
in the sun
it ain’t no fun,
if you don’t
move your buns
to be,
number one
in the run
under the sun

poem by Khalid Hameed
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I do the cooking at home. Where we eat no more than 100 grams of meat a day and have 'tons' of fresh vegetables. I prepare the vegetables with a wide range of herbs, spices and such. We also keep on hand lots of fruit, yogurt and great breads.

quote by Graham Kerr
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Wonderbar

You continue
To melt me;
Snap crackle
And pop me.

Now I'm a nice
Crispy bun;
To melt again
In your tum.

poem by Harriet James
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He keeps his beef between the two buns,
Away from the hungry eyes of nuns,
Hamburger is his pride,
He's fully satisfied,
His blood is thick, but his heart still runs.

limerick by Marius Alexandru (4 April 2021)
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Shortenin Bread

Mamas little baby loves shortenin shortenin
Mamas little baby loves shortenin bread
Mamas little baby loves shortenin shortenin
Mamas little baby loves shortenin bread
Put on the skillet
Slip on the lid
Mammys gonna make us some shortenin bread
And that aint all
Our mammys gonna do
Shes gonna cook us some coffee, too
Mamas little baby loves shortenin shortenin
Mamas little baby loves shortenin bread
Mamas little baby loves shortenin shortenin
Mamas little baby loves shortenin bread
Mamas little baby loves shortenin shortenin
Mamas little baby loves shortenin bread
I slipped in the kitchen
Raised up the lid
I stole me a mess o that shortenin bread
I walked up to a pretty girl and I said

[...] Read more

song performed by Beach Boys
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Gathering Pecans

fond childhood memories
of gathering pecans
from beneath the pecan tree
linger on
the sweet smell
of mother's sticky buns
baking in the oven

poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham
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The Sexy Ginger Bread Man

On his body is a ginger bread thong
To soften you up he sings a sweet sugar song
If you hit on him he’ll play along

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

He’ll seduce you with candy wine
One a scale from 1-10 he is a 9
Girls look at him and say, “He’s so fine”

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

On his face are peanut butter eyes
He has powdered sugar on his manly thighs
He will reel you in with his seductive lies

He’s the sexy ginger bread man

On this neck is a chain of candy
Around the house he can be handy

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Celano
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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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Conversion

The Christians convert us giving buns.
The Jigadhis steal our boys toting guns.
God has no religion
or love to any region.
where to be free, the Hindu boy runs?

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Perect Fit

You lie above me,
Eyes open to see,
You fit into me so well, so right,
I could stay here with you all night,
Your longs slender body,
Perfect for my open body,
I am ready for you, I smile to let you know
How I feel, that you are not foe,
I open my warm brown body to yours',
The sensation of goodness roars,
Tonight I live until it is done,
For you are the hotdog and I am the bun.

(in this poem I am in fact talking about the hotdog and bun that is food not the other ones..just in case you took it the wrong way...)

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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You deserve a hot Mocha

The tangling 15th century chandelier hanging tough
Brightening the living room and spar
The cozy Italian sofa so laid back
With classical music enlightening listener
To a stood still, you’re so indulged
Connected with buddies over the net
At a mouse click on your laptop
Big TV screen at the center of the lounge
Is showing ‘why human needs sex’
On Discovery channel

On the lounge table are served
A hot Mocha coffee with Delifrances breads
And butter cookies
Aroma of Smokey Mocha
Lingering on every corners
Besetting a rendezvous
Your fingers picking up the mug
And sip it slowly down the throat
Nourishing your central nervous system

[...] Read more

poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Bread Hair

Im a wigged-out daddy with bread on top
I dig an easy-bake granny with a whiskey mop
If you love me, you neednt the whole wheat crop
cause they had a useless battle andll never stop
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Im a pumpernickel-do for you, dough you do
Use a yarmulka of hallah bread if youre a jew
I belong to cayope*, I be the wheat for you
Yeast and flour, bake an hour, its annoying shampoo
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Drivin all my hope away
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away

[...] Read more

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Easter Bunny Thief

I have flat feet and a puffy tail
my name is bun bun, I'm a little frail.
I ate my carrots but that's not enough,
I need some really good sweet stuff.
Off to walmart or the safeway store,
I'll hide out and try to score.
humm humm good, I really should
jump in that cart, have a little fart.
Away goes Mrs. Curly Mae,
now I can have a chocolate bar today.
hipity hop, hipity hop,
I'll take my chocolate bar to the street car stop.
I'm just a little bunny, it's not Easter yet.
I'll be ready with lot's of candy,
so don't you fret.

Written: Feb.16,2008

Note: Pardon me, I'm in one of my moods

poem by Melvina Germain
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The pastel drawing of our Cafe de Capricornus!

Capricorn; A southern zodiacal constellation between Sagaittarius and Aquarius.The tenth sign of the zodiac, into which the sun enters at the winter solstice, about December 22.

Darling! We're Capricorns
And the Horoscope says;
This week is better to start a business enterprise
And that develops further on!
So I am drawing our cafe beside the busiest freeway.
Definitely that would be a stopover!
'What are you going to sell there? '
'Bitter coffee of the tasty life with a sentimental poem
And a singsong with my four stringed ukulele.'
'How about spicy buns? '
' That's good we could have supply them heavy sexy spicy buns.'
'When this pastel drawing hangs on the dreamy cafe wall? '
She said with her menopausal sad smile
And it's a gloomy rainy day!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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