Search Categories - Any -25 Lines or FewerCanadaPre 21st Century21st Century Grade levels 7-9 / Sec. 1-3 10-12 / Sec. 4 & 5 / CEGEP 1 Sort by RandomNewestMost popularA -> ZZ -> A Apply Walt Whitman Come Up From the Fields Father Come up from the fields father, here’s a letter from our Pete, And come to the front door mother, here’s a letter from thy dear son. Lo, ’tis autumn Bob Hicok Love poem The woman I love braids her hair. She’s Eve and Eve means breathe, to give life, my wife, from Eva by way of the Hebrew havah. At dusk I unlock her hair Jalal al-Din Rumi Great Intimacy It is like an exquisite spider web, this world, but I don't get trapped. I have ceased to tie the strings of one shoe to another in the morning, Edgar Lee Masters Mrs. Kessler Mr. Kessler, you know, was in the army, And he drew six dollars a month as a pension, And stood on the corner talking politics, Mercedes Eng Mariah according to my yt mama when I try to talk to my mom about what it was like to grow up surrounded by yt people in the prairies in the 80s though it seemed like the 50s she tells me in a so-there tone Lucia Misch The Problem With Being a Box Too Small for Its Contents Love, you ask too many questions. Let’s agree: we are whole Bronwen Wallace Common Magic Your best friend falls in love and her brain turns to water. You can watch her lips move, Lynn Crosbie Modestine We have each tried to read to him, with no success, except for James, who read him all of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes William Shakespeare Sonnet CXVI: Let me not to the marriage of true minds Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Hoa Nguyen My Idea of the Circus Is My Idea of the Circus Otherwise Known As: My Mother Was a Celebrated Stunt Motorcyclist, Vietnam, 1958 to 1962 Very loud a mad frenzy The wooden barrel she rode would have roared (I first wrote “road”) Lorna Crozier Packing for the Future: Instructions Take the thickest socks. Wherever you're going you'll have to walk. There may be water. There may be stones. There may be high places you cannot go without Rosemary Griebel Walking with Walt Whitman Through Calgary’s Eastside on a Winter Day Blue-white afternoon. The Bow river churns and smokes as the city rumbles, economy chokes and bundled homeless build cardboard homes in the snow. Yes, Walt, this is the new Roy Miki Kome’s Story for auntie nagasaki it's the same story told again & again the modulations & the machinations the maudlin Hana Shafi Bad Brown Girl i can barely speak in my mother tongues stutter my accent is bad i hate jalebi but i like aloo samosa i'm a bad brown girl i didn't join the SAA or the ISA Phoebe Wang Application Form Please read all the instructions carefully before proceeding. Use only permanent blue or black ink. If you have special needs that require accommodation, please explain. Cecily Nicholson from “Road Shoulders” power lines held by birds of prey the hostile expanse above ditches teeming floral invasive wayside fleurs late summer the shoulder sang holds breeze by Armand Garnet Ruffo Poem For Duncan Campbell Scott Who is this black coat and tie? Christian severity etched in the lines he draws from his mouth. Clearly a noble man who believes in work and mission. See how he rises from the red velvet chair, Dominik Parisien An English Speaking Doctor Translates the Concerns of his Patient with Google/Un Docteur Anglophone Traduit Les Inquiétudes De Son Patient Avec Google écoute à quoi bon être poète beau dire ce mal semble dans la tête comme marteau feu enclume clou couteau ou l’éclat d’une baudroie ou des aurores boréales Jose Hernandez Diaz Pan Dulce My niece calls me from my brother-in-law’s phone While I’m getting ready to wash dishes. I pick up. She says she needs to talk to her grandfather. I tell her that her grandfather just went to sleep, Alexis Pauline Gumbs another set of instructions we are asking you to trust your hands. put them on your heart. trust your heart. hear what we are saying. trust what you hear. we are asking you to build a circle. always a circle. not almost a circle. face Alden Nowlan The Bull Moose Down from the purple mist of trees on the mountain, lurching through forests of white spruce and cedar, stumbling through tamarack swamps… John Donne The Good-Morrow I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Leah Horlick For You Shall Be Called to Account The ancestors of everyone I’ve let into my body are gathered in a small room with one window, no lights. Yes, the room is crowded. Yes, there are no chairs. Yes, they are talking. Why are we Thomas Hardy Hap If but some vengeful god would call to me From up the sky, and laugh: “Thou suffering thing, Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy, George Herbert The Pulley When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, “Let us,” said he, “pour on him all we can. Lawrence Ferlinghetti Constantly Risking Absurdity (#15) Constantly risking absurdity … John Donne A Hymn to God the Father Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run, Sarah Yi-Mei Tsiang Winter House My father threw his language overboard, a bag of kittens, waterlogged mewling: small hard bodies. My mother hung on to hers — Wove the words like lace, an open web Arielle Twist Brother Your wedding day was a hurricane; your bride in red was like a kiss on on the dry prairie dirt. You actually never told me the story of how it went. The wedding, I mean. In fact, you never told me about how you chose Eli Tareq El Bechelany-Lynch The Fatigue The Fatigue is just fatigue. It sprays my body like a numbing agent. Say the way I sleep might not be working, say the way I eat might not be working. Hope to god the meds Katherine Philips Epitaph On her Son H.P. at St. Syth’s Church where her body also lies interred What on Earth deserves our trust? Youth and Beauty both are dust. Mina Assadi The Dictator’s Message The Dictator’s Message O poets return, we have swept your homeland clean of thorns and splinters O writers return, to make a record of your works Fred Wah “Breathe dust…” Breathe dust like you breathe wind so strong in your face little grains of dirt which pock around the cheeks peddling against a dust-storm… William Wordsworth The World Is Too Much With Us The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; — Little we see in Nature that is ours; CA Conrad from Sharking of the Birdcage ["the spirit of"] the spirit of your flowers is my favourite shelter Kayla Czaga Livejournal.com/lonelyradio We could read your words from anywhere but you felt like the only soul sitting in your swivel chair listening to your parents dream-breathing down the hall while you typed Letitia Elizabeth Landon Revenge Ay, gaze upon her rose-wreathed hair, And gaze upon her smile; Seem as you drank the very air Sachiko Murakami Wishing Well My fist holds as many coins as I can carry. All are stamped with the Queen's effigy; Elizabeth, D.G. Regina, the resident of pockets, a woman I've never met though I always know Abigail Chabitnoy Family History Only the beginning is true. There was an island and an orphanage and a boy. There was a train and a country to cross. bp Nichol Two Words: A Wedding There are things you have words for, things you do not have words for. There are words that encompass all your feelings & words that… Pagination 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 … Next › Next page Last » Last page Language English