Felled

You're thinking of trees, right?  I'm seeing felled camellias -- blooms on branches disembodied.  Past prime.  What is a felled poem?   Perhaps a fragment?  Sappho ascending and descending.

And of food?   What wind and rainstorms do to fruit.  Also birds.  Also people.  You and me.

Knife

A friend admonishes -- no knives in the sink.  Across the hide of a tomato, I assume is not suspect.  What's slices (or dices) a poem?  I suggest a one-word answer:  breath.  

Blueberries

What a season for blueberries!  Basket after basket.  Always a treat of color, and they fit so well in your palm, begging to be enjoyed.  Just like petite purple potatoes -- but no quite.

So, what's the equivalent in poetry?   Short, of course,  and unexpected yet satisfying.  Not haiku (they have a sense of salad and breeze and mountain about them).  I think just a few words, perhaps a line only.  A line full of color.  Vibrant.  Totally itself.  Perhaps, a line curving.

Eraser

Keep food bright and uncluttered.  Color, by the way, doesn't clutter.  So bring on the hues.  The same with poetry.  How to accomplish the latter?  Keep an eraser at hand.  Actual and metaphorical, that is.   The mouth and ears are wonderful erasers.  So go ahead and read poems out loud; you'll feel how (or how not) they've been edited.  Stir away.

Celebrate

No reason, no occassion necessary to celebrate good food (colorful and shapely) and vibrant words which make your mouth dance.  Celebrate the simple -- daily.  Celebrate with friends.

Paperweight

So curious this word -- paperweight.  The weight of paper.  The weight of  word.  The weight of the ripe.  The weight of perfect color.   The waiting for the ripe -- food and word.

Just now, what does the paperweight secure?  

Golf

Golf favors a small ball much like haiku favors few words.
And what food to pare with both?
Salmon and a colorful salad.

Days

Do particular days favorite certain foods?  Certain poetry?  There's the seasonal to be celebrated, for sure.  There are occasion foods and words for those occasions.  Don't forget the "natural" progression from 1 to 7.
Repeat as necessary.   I'm thinking of which foods I use the most in singular day -- pepper and olive oil.  Words are not as easy to recollect.  

Noise

What is noise?
What is noise in food?
What is noise in poetry?

Noise is in the ear of the listener.
Noise is in the crunch of carrot or celery or nut/
Noise is the rattle, scrape and hot air of words which the ear registers as such.

Noise is not inherently to be shunned.    

Violin

From which can issue sounds plaintive, soulful, playful.  Echo often being a miracle.  Now, think of a poem which continues to be heard after the final word spoken.  The same echo can be said of a meal. Thus, memory.

Boots

From booties to boots in a wide swatch of decades.   Only that love of red shoes.  Slip an accent of red into a poem.  Much like slicing a beet.  Or beefstake tomato.  Color is taste for the living.  

Newsprint

Newsprint, a container for words.  For fish and chips.  How versatile.   How practical.

One of the goals in poetry is not to have greasy words.  Suggestive, yes; greasy no.  Think about this the next time you order fish and chips.