Chew On This: How What We Eat Informs and Inspires

Ms. Munoz’s 7th Grade class took a bite out of poetry this week by reading Li-Young Lee’s, From Blossoms. We focused our discussion around the student’s favorite foods. Tastes ranged from cultural family favorites to Chicago Style Pizza to Tuna Tartar! We asked ourselves how the foods we eat help shape who we are. This was a sumptuous step in our exploration of: ‘Writer, who are you? Identity and Poetry.’

Ms. Munoz
7th Grade, 1st Period

Isabelle M.

From stores it came
this box of pizza
We bought from the man
at the end of the block

From dough from hands
from a batch on a table
comes this mysterious taste, sweet
but sometimes sour toppings and all
comes this that a lot of people want

O’ the memories I’ve had
to carry a box filled with love
to hold it in our hands, and bite it
into a triangular shape of pizza

Sanya H.

As I walk through the woods,
I stumble upon a bush
A large leafy bush.
With blueberries.

I pick one off,
Hold it between my fingers
Raise it to my mouth
And bite.

My teeth breaks the skin,
Erupting flavor
Sweet and tangy juice
Just for me.

David L.

When I walk through
the kitchen door,
I smell the Cajun seasonings,
reminding me of the summer
days in Louisiana.

Jambalaya is served,
French Bread on the side,
Dreaming of a piece of
Andouille sausage,
before it is time.

I think of myself
walking down Bourbon St.
the aroma of sugary beignets
and the Voodoo presence
that is not scary
but welcoming spirits
of New Orleans.

Ms. Munoz
7th Grade, 2nd Period

Eliza D.

From the Polish store comes
This full basket of food
We bought from the woman
On Belmont
Signs painted Food

The smell of Easter morning
The smell of a holiday
The hams, the eggs and the pepper
All put together in one basket
The taste of joy

There are days we live
Full of joy and happiness
Other days are pure misery
But the smell of the basket
Reminds me of only joy

Max T.

From hard work comes
this batch of tamales
my grandmother had made
in her old worn out kitchen

She used to make them
every year
for my birthday
with love

Now as I devour the tasty treat
comes the familiar wind of fall
and the familiar heat of summer
as it used to be down South

As I finish the tamale
I remember the final days
that brought me joy

Julia G.

From the seeds, the trees
Comes a fruit,
Small orange spheres
Hang from the green-leaved branches

I pick one
From a high point of a tree
And peel it.

It’s sweet and sour
As the taste fills my mouth
From the seeds,
The trees;

Comes a mandarin.

Ms. Munoz
7th Grade, 6th Period

Happy Hour With Ribs
Jorge O.

Happy Hour with ribs.
Meat taken from the animal
Taken then given
Savored, remembered taste,
Something that you can’t pass up.
Happy Hour with ribs.

Grilled, burned, prepared correctly
the delicious, juicy taste is kept
sweet savory sauce to top it off
juicy, savory, sweet tasty
Happy Hour with ribs.

Bitten in, the ribs enter
Sliding off the taste buds leaving their traces
Savory taste, something to eat slow

Digested and always remembered
Happy Hour with ribs.

Rana S.

how sweet
the taste that bursts into your mouth
like a bomb of fruit

how magical
brown on the outside and green on the inside
then again the seeds

All the memories
Summer on a sunny day at the beach
Bursting into flavor.

O,  Kiwi

Alex K.

From vine to vine
bushel to bushel
an abundance of food
lies there.

People pass by
day to day
night to night
eating them.

Crushed and turned
into wine for
another day.

Ms. Munoz
7th Grade, 7th Period


Dhruv B.

From  cows comes

this plate of steak

we bought from the steakhouse

at the fancy restaurant named

‘Long John’s Steakhouse”

From pampered cows to fired up grills

From jubilant teamwork in the kitchen,

comes a filet mignon at the restaurant, juicy

steak we munch down; The hard to cut

Comes the familiar strength of pineapples


Ariani G.

From beans comes

this tin foil wrapped present of cocoa

the little girl on the corner,

she sold it for her school

child waving chocolate.

From cardboard  boxes,  small dreams

from the small packed corners,

comes smooth and creamy, decadence;

almonds and caramel, joy and mess

comes the tranquility of a home.

We take the fun, the filling;

to  have a time to enjoy

not only the wrapper, but the work

not only the price, but the fun it



Samir B.

From Costco comes

this freezer of ice cream

dipped in sweet milk chocolate

freezing your teeth.

Eat it anytime





Ms. Munoz

7th Grade,  8th Period


Jeremiah R.

From a truck comes

this jubilance of watermelon

from the frail man,

at the corner.

Behind the Shell,



and sweetness.

If not taken,

it’s sure to go to waste

all too good,

all too sweet,

to go to waste.


Kery B.

From trees comes

this basket of apples

we got from the market


To think that one bite

of memory

It will stay with us

for as long as we liver


Every bite it’s like a

trip down memory




“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.