Don Hamaliuk Poet Rhyme

Cooking Up Our History

COOKING UP OUR HISTORY

It’s surprising how food can change your whole life
Bringing people together like you and your wife
In your family gatherings there is food galore
You eat a whole plateful then go back for more

There’s all the ethnic food, that Mom would make
A delicious secret recipe for that poppy seed cake
The restaurants attract us with their specialty food
We go out for indulgence just to lift up our mood

We celebrate our birthday with all the sweet stuff
Our bellies are bulging, and we still can’t get enough
A three-course meal and then the desert
Where’s my antacid, I really need it to work

But it’s not only food that will create so much pleasure
It’s the company we keep and the stories we treasure
Tell me again about your whole family history
Where you grew up and your ancestor’s mystery

The stories can last well into the night
The details with passion till we hear it just right
The food and the stories will continue on forever
Cooking up our history is every family’s treasure

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akira artlyy September 18, 2026 at 7:54 AM I've really been enjoying your poem and the emotions and imagery were so vivid that i could easily picture them as beautiful illustration. I'm a commission-based manga/webtoon artist, and I'd love to help bring your story to life if you're ever interested. Feel free to reach out at gm@il : akiracomicart2@ or on inst@ akiraa_artly Don Hamaliuk September 18, 2026 at 8:27 AM Here is one that a webtoonist would probably relate to..... A POETIC HAIR BALL Cough, choke, spit, fart A distracted poem’s about to start Hold-on to your pantilooney This poet's gone a little looney Hickory dickory dock, a spider climbed up a spout The little dog laughed, while running about Then it stopped; short and gazed at the moon And the cow ran off with a loon Jack Sprat was skinny but short His wife Jill could be so mean They rowed their boat into Bangkok airport Living life like it was a Dream But wait just a minute, that sheep did piddle And the egg fell clean off the wall Old MacDonald kept singing Hey Diddle Diddle And this geezer just coughed-up, a poetic hair ball