I am the green of your eyes
and the red tiny tomatoes
filled with the water of sadness.

I am the snow bear
skating on a frozen lake
and the Himalaya
shrinking day after day
and everyone knows why.

It’s hard to say my name.
That’s why people call me my nickname, Abdul.

I am the soccer ball who never
betrayed its team and offered them
the World Cup.

I am young male red apple
feeding humanity,
an African of Moroccan blood,
fishing for the fourth language.

I am a giant cactus all alone
in the center of the ocean
protecting myself from the noise.

I am the end of the week
at school, the day of my favorite food,
couscous on the moon.

I am the blood of the Red Sea,
calm and warm.

– Abdessalam Mansori

From the anthology “Tell the World,” published by HarperCollins
Poem of the Month: March 2009

I am an immigrant in America.
I am studying in my school.
But I forgot to bring my soul here.
I left her in my hometown.
She plays with my friends.
The cherry blossoms surround her.
She does not want to come with me.
Never!

– Shang Hui Cindy Chen

From a WritersCorps publication at Newcomer High School
Poem of the Month: February 2008

Poetry is the way sunshine lights up
everywhere. Poetry is the way fog
completely covers the country. Poetry
is the way grandmothers sit on a stool
and weave a sweater. Poetry is the way
flowers dance in the garden. Poetry is
the way notes in music jump around your
feet. Poetry is the way the world becomes
wonderful.

– Wen Jing Karena Tan

From a WritersCorps publication at Newcomer High School
Poem of the Month: August 2007