Recipe For You

For our second week, Twain Elementary 6th graders had brought their hungry appetites and were ready to sink their teeth into some recipe poems. I shared my own poem, “From Scratch,” which tells the story of my unique racial and family background in the form of a recipe.

I was made from an old family recipe.
Scottish spices were added by my father.
A tablespoon of Irish mixed with a cup
of African American from my mother for
balanced flavor.

After reading my poem, Students brainstormed ideas about what special qualities made up their identities.  These ingredients included their physical traits, talents, weaknesses, hobbies, ethnicities, and religions. Then students mixed these ingredients together and turned them into stories about how they were created.  

Readers get your forks, spoons, and plates and try out these delicious poems below.



Mr. Burford’s 6th Grade
Group 1


Made Of Life
Morgan G. 

Before I could ever become to be

Here’s a little story about me.

I was made from something so great.

It was like I knew this could be fate.

This is something so real but feels like it’s fake.

I know not really anyone could relate.

This is how I made it out of the gate:

A Tablespoon of brown eyes\

and a pound of blackish-brown Curly hair

A pound of good singing

And 2 pounds of good dancing

After all I’ve learned, Love is what I’ve earned.



Broken Bakery
Sophia L.

I was made from years and years of family history.
They attempted making 2 pastries at once,
Delicate Mexican spices,
Bits of chocolate for their brown eyes,
And a cup of curly hair that was taken once
the pastry was long done.

But when the pastries were done,
The bakers noticed the second one was not fully baked.
The bakers wanted to start over,
But as the pastries were baking,
The bakers went opposite ways,
But stayed in the kitchen.

The pastry just sat there in their broken bakery,
Broken home.


Recipe of me
By Jayleen P.

12 years ago, my parents made a recipe by accident.
They waited for the water to boil.
Once there were bubbles
My dad poured in a ton of him.
My mom threw in a pinch of her.
They sprinkled in a teaspoon of dark brown hair.
They both added half a cup of Mexican.

They spilled in a cup of laughter.
But not enough artistic skill

Although they added too much sensitivity

Recipe for Aria
By Aria R.

Before I could be baked
My parents had to get the ingredients.
The ingredients were 1 cup Perto Rican along with a cup for Mexican.
They added four tablespoons of Native American with a pinch of polish and English.
After I cooked they added toppings
One pound of brown hair and eyes from both my parents
My dad added 1 gallon of olive skin.
My mom added ⅛ of blindness, 1-gallon loud voice and laugh.
My parents set the oven nine months exactly, but I came out a little late.
and my mom forgot to take me out for two days. When my family saw me, they thought I was just right.
My dad added the most toppings, so I came out looking just like him.


Mr. Burford’s 6th Grade
Group 2



Recipe for Romeo
By: Romeo H.

13 years ago, a couple had an idea of what to cook.
First, they prepared the brown dough.
Then, they rolled up the imagination.
After that, they added the sauce of an open mind.
They swirled around the outside of the bowl.
The man shredded the cheese of intelligence.
The woman added toppings of creativity.
They baked the kindness.
Finally, it has been done!

From Starch
By Ellie T.

The recipe starts off with 1 pound of wavy hair
2 cups of shyness
Teaspoon of 2 siblings that are slightly annoying
A pinch of not being able to do my science homework.
A cup of passion, full of fire. And empathy to inspire.
A spoonful of adventure, bold
And patience, for when things unfold

A pinch of the ability to do math
Then all of them crumbled together creates a batter,
Next you put the batter in the oven for 9 months and a week.


Recipe for Vianese
By Vianese S.

One day my parents entered a kitchen.
Though they didn’t know it was a kitchen they soon figured it out
And when they started cooking, they didn’t stop
They added.
3 cups of Mexican heritage
One cup of life
2 cups of glasses
2 quarts of good grades
1 pinch of issues
3 cups of mean
3 cups of nice
6 tablespoons of vanilla complexion
4 pints of beauty
3 cups of insecurity
1 cup of a parent not there
And 6 cups of a good and proud family



Mr. Barr’s 6th Grade
Group 1



Recipe For Citlalli
By: Citlalli L.

I was made 11 years ago from a family recipe.
American spices were added by my dad.
A gallon of Mexican beans from my grandma
for a better flavor. A pinch of dark brown chocolate chip for my hair color.
A cup of straight spaghetti hair from my grandma.
And a liter of long carrot hair.
Then added two eggs of dyed hair. Then added one tablespoon of the only child.A bowl of apples for being smart
from my dad.
Lastly, a pinch of math.
Then I became a bowl of soup.


A New Recipe
by Fernanda M.

I was created from a new recipe.
Mexican spices were added from my mom and dad.
I also have American spices.
They also added a pinch of speaking Spanish.

They added a gallon of creativity,
they also added a tablespoon of drawing.
They mixed me up,
they tried it and decided it wasn’t well done.

They added more to make it better.
They added a cup of Volleyball and a gallon of energy.
They decided to add 5 gallons of enjoying listening to music \.
They mixed it up and tried it again,
It was getting better.

They needed two more ingredients.
They added a pinch of cleaning.
They also added a gallon of overthinking.

They blended it once more,
it was good.

Recipe For Aedan
By: Aedan R.

I am from many generations of culture and faith.
a gallon of Irish was blended into my genes from my dad.
128 ounces of Mexican poured in from my mom.

Stirred in with Christianity with generation of pastors
from my grandpa and his grandpa and many more
being told you are going to preach.

I was stirred and stirred until
I came out with freckles,
black eyes and hair.

And a birthmark tossed in
that has been passed on to my mother and brother.

And there I was a cookie but,
four years after I was made,
my makers couldn’t stand each other
and I was chopped into half
trying to satisfy both sides.


Mr. Barr’s 6th Grade
Group 2


Recipe for Gio
By: Giovanni G. 

I was made from a unique recipe.
That was founded in 2010 April, 18 in a restaurant.
Mixed up with Mexican and American

While my mom takes a pinch of lazy
While dad takes a handful of athleticism and soccer
Then my sisters came and gave me a pinch of good style in clothes
While grandma was jerking me around the metal oval shaped pot.

But while my grandpa put a teaspoon of anger and saltiness
At last my grandparents put a quarter of a teaspoon for height
But after it all, I came out a little late but, in the morning, but just a
Little brownish, and nice and tan.


Recipe for Amaya
By Amaya N.

One day on Tuesday, June 8, 2010,
My mom and dad went into the kitchen
And wanted to cook up a baby girl.

My dad added a tablespoon of a flat ear,
And tossed in a beautiful dark brown eyes
From my dad and mom.

But then it started to get a little messy,
They added a little too much power of emotions,
And chopped in a fear of loud noises and

Then when all of the ingredients are in
My mom and dad pull and roll
Until the dough is perfect.
They put it in the oven and wait
9 months for it to be done.

When finally its all done my mom
And dad take off the oven mits
And leaves the kitchen with
A new perfect little girl.


Not Bought at a Store, Made From Scratch
By Aydan S.

One day my parents decided to make a dish.
They wanted to make something new.
Something that hasn’t been made yet.
Something from a new recipe.

So, they used new ingredients. My mom added a cup of Puerto Rican.
A cup of Mexican was also added by my dad.
They also added a hint of Chicago.
They added a lot of good things.
But they forgot to add a liter of Spanish sauce. I believe I was made at the perfect time.
I came out almost perfect.
A true delicacy
And creation.

But my parents decided to go into different kitchens. And I was cut in half.





“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.