Many of our 5 senses are deeply connected to memory. This week the 8th graders of Clinton reflected on their favorite foods and the people, places, and things connected to them. After reading “From Blossoms” by Li-Young Lee, students reflected on their strongest food memories and how to use the 5 senses to create powerful imagery. Students wrote about a wide range of foods, reminiscing about family members, celebrating heritage, and savoring the joy of eating.
Ms. Krasic
“Tamale“
by Cynthia B.
Tamale’s never last in my house.
My brother gets out of his room,
he looks around the kitchen.
He spots the tamales and it’s
over.
“The Strawculent“
by Ashtalfa K.
I hear my mom asking Go and grab a fruit?
A fruit?
I wondered, the one with the bird humming?
I can smell a floral scent
Is it of the succulent strawberry?
Indeed, it is! I quickly grab it and rush towards my mom.
Wohoo! I’ll finally get to eat it.
I excitedly picked the fruit that reminded me of a clown performing
And popped into my mouth
Suddenly, it tasted like laughing on a hilarious joke
Wow! What a feeling of joy as I slided down a slide
Enjoying its complete refreshing-joy.
“My Grandpa’s Fig Tree“
by Soundous B.
In the blistering heat of Algeria,
When no one goes outside.
I stand barefoot in my backyard,
the sun threatening to have me fried.
My Grandpa’s fig tree looks down on me.
I watch one of its purple figs fall
It will turn yellow with time
then it’ll be like it never existed at all.
The ground, the soil, that’s where my Grandpa’s
garden lays.
Through the rain and the heat,
that’s where my Grandpa’s memory stays.
Through the Pomegranate bushes, he
waves at me.
When the broken rose pot cuts my feet
I’m sure he can see.
With the sun, moon, and stars,
he lingers near.
With the damp smell of the earth,
I have nothing to fear.
Ms. Karas (Group A)
“From Mexico”
by Maria H.
Mangos remind
me of a hot hot day
in Mexico, sounds
Like a juicy bite,
Smells like a sweet
dessert, looks like a colorful football
Tastes like a hot day in Mexico
sitting outside while kids play.
Feels like the summer time.
“From my Country”
by Sohail I.
Kabuly Plaw reminds me of Afghanistan.
Sounds like popping bubbles.
Smells really rich.
Looks like a mountain.
Kabuly Plaw tastes puffy.
Feels like a warm hug.
“The Tastiest Food”
by Uzair A.
My food is fried chicken
it sounds like a firework.
smells like a spicy chili.
Looks like a big island.
Tastes like a tender room.
Feels like a rough bed.
Ms. Macmillan
“Apple My Pineapple”
by Alani M.
Pineapple my apple sounds juicy, flavorful, and nice
Pineapple my apple smells sweet and savory
Pineapple my apple looks like Spongebob’s house
Pineapple my apple tastes like summer and is refreshing
Pineapple my apple feels like a waterfall of flavor
“My Favorite”
by Jasmine R.
Pozole comes from
Mexico, Pozole sounds
like the waves on the
ocean, smells like
a good day for
Pozole, looks like
the green lake
from Chicago, tastes
like many flavors in
your mouth, feels like
I’m in heaven.
“The Trees”
by Rabaab A.
Mangoes.
Mangoes sound like birds chirping, trees moving
in the wind.
Mangoes smell like a field of flowers.
Mangoes look like a sunset at the beach.
Mangoes taste like a flower blooming in
my mouth.
Mangoes feel like my hands digging in the
warm sand.
Ms. Karas (Group B)
“Salty Popcorn”
by Phelicita J.
Salty popcorn reminds me of my sister
The popcorn sounds like rain falling on the hard objects.
Smells like a good sleep at the night.
It looks like salty round ball.
It tastes like movie time snack.
It feels like a fresh good morning.
“From My Godfather Cooking”
by Melanie S.
Pasta reminds me of my Godfather.
Pasta smells like a cozy couch.
Pasta sounds like hot boiling bubbles.
Pasta looks like a Cheesy rubberband.
Pasta tastes like Thanksgiving time.
Pasta feels like a slimy bathroom soap.
“The Phenomenon”
by Yasin R.
Nasi Lemak reminds me of my country
Nasi Lemak sounds like a ASMR video going on
Nasi Lemak smells like a massaging chair
Nasi Lemak looks like a pyramid
Nasi Lemak tastes like heaven
Nasi Lemak feels like a falling leaf
“A Lovely Root”
by José AL.
Square root, I never
understand that,
I know that root = bean,
the old school magic.
A shiny obal,
beautiful and soft,
just perfect point,
a big and soft hug.
The mess in the kitchen,
the “blurp, blurp” in
Grandmother’s warm kitchen,
the beauty of nature.
