You make me feel
Like an African Queen
Who doesn’t have to lift a finger
You make me feel like a butterfly
Who is getting ready to burst out of her cocoon
To show off her beauty
Even though you are a woman who has been beaten
And didn’t say anything because you were scared
Through all that you survived
You make me feel like an African Queen
You make me feel
The way I feel

– Emauni Crawford, age 12

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

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