Search Categories - Any -25 Lines or FewerCanadaPre 21st Century21st Century Grade levels - Any -Grades 7-9 / Sec. 1-3Grades 10-12 / Sec. 4 & 5 / CEGEP 1 Sort by RandomNewestMost popularA -> ZZ -> A Apply Leigh Hunt Rondeau Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Charlotte Smith Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes! How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn! For me wilt thou renew the withered rose, 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? Zhang Er from Cross River . Pick Lotus 9 How to describe sea To someone who’s never seen it? He lives to ninety-nine, he wants it, to see it To walk on its glass surface, to blow the seven trumpets. Stanley Kunitz The Portrait My mother never forgave my father for killing himself, especially at such an awkward time and in a public park, that spring when I was waiting to be born. She locked his name Tolu Oloruntoba Tinderbox We were a conflagration asking to be incarnated into the world. Mother, superstitious, kept us apart, two stones of the same igneous anger. Everyone saucered tears Tongo Eisen-Martin For My Best Friend We are losing the intensive care unit waiting room war We were doing so well So well we got sleepy So sleepy the institution returned Rita Wong fluorine arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane Bliss Carman Lord of My Heart’s Elation Lord of my heart’s elation, Spirit of things unseen, Be thou my aspiration Ron Padgett Prose Poem (“The morning coffee.”) The morning coffee. I’m not sure why I drink it. Maybe it’s the ritual of the cup, the spoon, the hot water, the milk, and the little heap of brown grit, the way they come together to form a nail I can hang the Hari Alluri area boys brash talk on sidewalk brethren to irreverence short teeth long stories ~ aspirations high rolling tape decks tweeters six by nine speakers deep Edgar Allan Poe “Alone” From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were — I have not seen As others saw — I could not bring Walt Whitman Beat! Beat! Drums! Beat! beat! drums! — blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows — through doors — burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, Bunkong Tuon Moon in Khmer You are light when the sun is punched out and darkness reigns. You are the antidote to what came before: black blood, black heart, hands tied, kneeling before a ditch of human bones. E. Pauline Johnson Through Time and Bitter Distance Unknown to you, I walk the cheerless shore. The cutting blast, the hurl of biting brine May freeze, and still, and bind the waves at war, Ere you will ever know, O! Heart of mine, Kim Addonizio Aquarium The fish are drifting calmly in their tank between the green reeds, lit by a white glow that passes for the sun. Blindly, the blank glass that holds them in displays their slow Herman Melville The Maldive Shark About the Shark, phlegmatical one, Pale sot of the Maldive sea, The sleek little pilot-fish, azure and slim, Hoa Nguyen Blousy Guitar Blousy guitar I don’t want to count the beats Hey Hey My pen I have bed hair in the best way Daughter of sunlight and air and I’m glad you were born on this day or put another way: that you were Lorine Niedecker What horror to awake at night What horror to awake at night and in the dimness see the light. Time is white Yusuf Saadi Spacetime We Twitter, Tinder, Tumblr through eternity. Loquacious text messages flit from fingertips, waves of data spill through our skulls. Every cm2 of oxygen overflowing Di Brandt my mother found herself my mother found herself one late summer afternoon lying in grass under the wild yellow plum tree jewelled with sunlight she was forgotten there in spring picking rhubarb for pie & the children home from William Blake The Chimney Sweeper: When my mother died I was very young When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry “‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep!” 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 Emily Dickinson I felt a Funeral, in my Brain I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading — treading — till it seemed Tomasz Rózycki 11. Headwinds When I began to write, I didn’t know each of my words would bit by bit remove things from the world and in return leave blank Kaie Kellough people arrived people arrived from portugal. people arrived from africa. people arrived from india. people arrived from england. people arrived from china. people Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown Ben Ladouceur Tractatus The sun gave our shoulder blades ulu-shaped burns, and the sun gives nothing to our sort I sleep now, and furiously Clouds excreted shadows on the shoreline, and there were no clouds David McGimpsey 71. Song for a Silent Treatment. I told her, in plain language, how I felt. And by that I mean I mumbled a poorly paraphrased and already… Marvin Frances more treaty lines 1790 → treaty 2, district of Hesse (step into wolf) province of quebec “We do herby certify that the following goods were delivered to the several Nations” William Blake Introduction to the Songs of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, Russell Atkins Coffee Jessica Johns How Not to Spill Dad has creases on his hands so thick they could split with a poke. He gestures for me to try so I do. His skin bends on a hinge and out spills every good and bad thing: cattails from our Tyler Pennock I have so many now. I have so many now. There’s one where we were giants, playing with our size by falling over houses and trees, laughing. There’s another where I was racing the old ones in a game, and we stopped Emily Dickinson “Hope” is the thing with feathers— “Hope” is the thing with feathers — That perches in the soul — And sings the tune without the words — Lorna Crozier Fear of Snakes The snake can separate itself from its shadow, move on ribbons of light, taste the air, the morning and the evening, Ilya Kaminsky We Lived Happily during the War And when they bombed other people’s houses, we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America Aimé Césaire New Year Out of their torments men carved a flower which they perched on the high plateaus of their faces hunger makes a canopy for them an image dissolves in their last tear Gerard Manley Hopkins Spring Nothing is so beautiful as Spring — When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens,… Alice Oswald A Short Story of Falling It is the story of the falling rain to turn into a leaf and fall again it is the secret of a summer shower to steal the light and hide it in a flower and every flower a tiny tributary Language English