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Poetry is My Underwear
By April Halprin Wayland
My sister found them.

Read them out loud.
She’s so proud,

she’s running to our parents
waving my poems in the air.

Doesn’t she know
she’s waving my underwear?
New Math
By Nikki Grimes
Up till now,
the math of my life
has been pretty simple:
friends
plus family
plus sports.
What more
could I ask for, right?
But lately,
my outside has been changing
and my inside keeps telling me
more is on the way.
Trouble is,
I'm not sure
I'm ready.
“I am here because somebody survived”
By Cornelius Eady
—Mahogany L. Browne, “On Meditation”

Which means, sometimes, you disarm
The goon by acting the fool—what they want
Is your throat cut, or your heart broken
By a dum-dum bullet, or your eyes filling
With the void. So they leave with their cartoon
Of you in...
Uncharted Territory of Grief
By Tanaya Winder
Summers meant sticking my arm out the back of a rez car.
No other windows rolled down.
Consequences of a mechanic, some stranger’s
calloused hands left us with sticky summers, sweat
dripping from our foreheads.

I waved to make-believe
friends and hungry ghosts. My arms danced
against...
A smile always heals
By Suma Subramaniam
You cannot pronounce my name.
“Soor-ya.” Not “soar.”
Surya—the sun god.
Mom always tells me that a smile heals everything.
So I try.
I sit beside you in the cafeteria
and smile.

You look down at your food
and eat your cheeseburger,
I eat the lemon rice in my...
Filter
By Suma Subramaniam
I come from a country so far away
that you may have visited only in your dreams.
My face does not bear the pale color of my palms.
I don’t speak your language at home.
I don’t even sound like you.
If you come to...
The Ache
By Mahogany L. Browne
A fatherless child will do almost
anything to receive approval
from the world.

A nod
or really
any sign of recognition
would cause me to put my own life in danger.

Once
I let my sister lift me
on top of both of her extended feet
in the middle of...
The Storyteller Gets Her Name
By Ari Tison
My dad used to call me Eagle Eyes. I was the one to find eagles, owls, blue jays
on a dark day. He called me so until my brother was born infant and grew to boy.

Having heard my name, as younger siblings...
At the Student Poetry Reading
By Kim Stafford
I guess you could call me broken,
says one. I’m still lonely, says another,
but now I can name it with a song.

In my poem, says another,
I can forget I am forgotten. Now
I understand being misunderstood,

says another. And another says,
in a bold,...
Others Are Us
By Nathalie Handal
He said I was different because I was dark. She said I was different because  I wore a scarf. He said I was different because I had an accent. She said I was different because I couldn’t read. He said...
Truth is I would like to escape myself
By Nour Al Ghraowi
Truth is I would like to escape myself.
Detach my body from my skin,
peel it layer by layer to uncover
...
The Only Me
By Pat Mora
Spinning through space for eons,
our earth—oceans, rivers, mountains,
glaciers, tigers, parrots, redwoods—
evolving wonders.

And our vast array, generations
of humans—all shapes, colors, languages.

Can I be the only me?

Our earth: so much beauty, hate,
...
Clarinet
By Chera Hammons
Apart, we are two quiet things:
a person and an instrument.
I in my body,
the clarinet in its case.

We are like good friends.
The clarinet takes nothing away from me.
It lets me borrow its notes.

If I loan it my breath,
I can speak with...
The School of the Unschoolable
By Chen Chen
See the stars nightly
disobeying the night.

Watch the pattering rain
sketch an anarchist’s

map to the future, then
unpattern it away—

...
anthem for my belly after eating too much
By Kara Jackson
i look in the mirror, and all the chips i’ve eaten
this month have accumulated
like schoolwork at the bottom of my tummy,
my belly—a country i’m trying to love.
my mouth is a lover devoted to you, my belly, my belly
the birds will...
Poems
By Nikki Grimes
I am hardly ever able
to sort through my memories
and come away whole
or untroubled.
It is difficult
to sift through the stones,
the weighty moments and know
which is rare gem,
which raw coal,
which worthless shale or slate.
So, one by one,
I drag them across the page
and...
Stomp
By Nikki Grimes
I come home,
feet about to bleed
from angry stomping.
“Boy!” says Mom.
“Quit making all that racket.”
But what does she expect
when, day after day,
haters sling words at me
like jagged stones
designed to split my skin?
I retreat to my room,
collapse on the bed,
count, “One. Two....
Ode to Langston
By Dawn Quigley
Langston, we too, sing Turtle Island.

We are the 574 Nations.
They want to hide us
In the past tense,
Yet we love,
And dream,
And are still here.

Today, now,
We are at the oval table
As our women lead.
Nobody can ever
Say to us,
“Natives lived, Natives ate, drank,...
This Body II
By Renée Watson
My body is
perfect and
imperfect and
black and
girl and
big and
thick hair and
short legs and
scraped knee and
healed scar and
heart beating and
hands that hold and
voice that bellows and
feet that dance and
arms that embrace and
my momma’s eyes and
my daddy’s smile and
my grandma’s hope and

my body...
Nowhere Else to Go
By Linda Sue Park
Turn off the lights.
Wear another layer.
(Sounds like a dad.)
(Sounds like a mom.)

You say hand-me-down.
I say retro.

Walk.
Bike.
Walk some more.
Recycle.

(See what I did there,
bike—recycle?)

Your name in Sharpie
on a good water bottle.
Backpack. New habits.
No thanks, don’t need a bag.

What else.
Oh yeah.

Tell ten friends
who...

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Poetry is My Underwear

New Math

poetry-magazine“I am here because somebody survived”

poetry-magazineUncharted Territory of Grief

poetry-magazineA smile always heals

poetry-magazineFilter

poetry-magazineThe Ache

poetry-magazineThe Storyteller Gets Her Name

poetry-magazineAt the Student Poetry Reading

poetry-magazineOthers Are Us

poetry-magazineTruth is I would like to escape myself

poetry-magazineThe Only Me

poetry-magazineClarinet

poetry-magazineThe School of the Unschoolable

poetry-magazineanthem for my belly after eating too much

poetry-magazinePoems

poetry-magazineStomp

poetry-magazineOde to Langston

poetry-magazineThis Body II

poetry-magazineNowhere Else to Go

“I am here because somebody survived”

Uncharted Territory of Grief

A smile always heals

Filter

The Ache

The Storyteller Gets Her Name

At the Student Poetry Reading

Others Are Us

Truth is I would like to escape myself

The Only Me

Clarinet

The School of the Unschoolable

anthem for my belly after eating too much

Poems

Stomp

Ode to Langston

This Body II

Nowhere Else to Go