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 Brandon Wint From: Incantation: Memory of Water Tonight, a strand of my great-grandmother’s hair sashes an amber beer bottle discarded by a tourist. A white thread of my grandmother’s baptismal robe is a bangle on a wrist of kelp Leanne Dunic From One and Half of You Price depends on how the cheongsam was made, the fabric used. Gasp. Lift breasts with one hand. Stuff your body inside. If you wear this print of peonies C. D. Wright Re: Happiness, in pursuit thereof It is 2005, just before landfall. Here I am, a labyrinth, and I am a mess. I am located at the corner of Waterway Marie Annharte Baker Saskatchewan Indians Were Dancing 60s pulled us from starvation into government jobs antiquated Indians in Saskatchewan danced for rain Manitoba Indian doings were hidden for a jealous Rita Wong fluorine arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane Sarah de Leeuw Skeena Crossing What is this this crossing? In the photo just in front of the train with the crane at the edge of the drop Walt Whitman O Captain! My Captain! O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, Harryette Mullen it’s rank, it cranks you up it’s rank it cranks you up crash you’re fracked you suck shucks you’re wack you be all you cracked up to be dead on arrival overdosed on whatever excess of hate and love 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 Percy Bysshe Shelley England in 1819 An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying King; Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn, — mud from a muddy spring; 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. Sue Goyette Eight The trick to building houses was making sure they didn’t taste good. The ocean’s culinary taste was growing more sophisticated and occasionally Maggie Estep Scab Maids on Speed My first job was when I was about 15. I had met a girl named Hope who became my best friend. Hope and I were flunking math class so we became speed freaks. This honed our John McCrae In Flanders Fields In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky Philip Larkin This Be The Verse They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. Kim Hyesoon Icicle Glasses Day thirty-nine The thing that death gave you — your face leaks your face overflows Your face is the grave of your nose your face is the grave of your ears Lewis Carroll A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky A boat, beneath a sunny sky, Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July — 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 Randy Lundy The Cactus You sit in the forgotten bone-dry hills surrounded by sand and sagebrush above Buffalo Pound Lake. A day and a night, and then three more days and nights. Natalie Scenters-Zapico Lima Limón :: Madurez I wear a peineta & pin a mantilla to my hair I want to be Conchita Piquer warning women about becoming lemons. The goal: tener alguien quien me quiera. I want to be my mother singing me 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, Billy Collins Introduction to Poetry I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light like a color slide Robert Frost The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood Rita Joe I Lost My Talk I lost my talk The talk you took away. When I was a little girl At Shubenacadie school. You snatched it away: I speak like you I think like you I create like you Luljeta Lleshanaku January 1, Dawn After the celebrations, people, TV channels, telephones, the year’s recently-corrected digit finally falls asleep. Between the final night and the first dawn a jagged piece of sky Ada Limón We Are Surprised Now, we take the moon into the middle of our brains so we look like roadside stray cats with bright flashlight-white eyes in our faces, but no real ideas of when or where to run. Emma Healey Trust Fund Witches Kate Hall Insomnia If I were to sleep, it would be on an iron bed, bolted to the floor in a bomb-proof concrete room with twelve locks on the door. Paul Laurence Dunbar We Wear the Mask We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, — This debt we pay to human guile; Tonja Gunvaldsen Klaassen Mama When the horse picked Mama up by the hair that time, was she scared? There is a photograph of her with this horse in the brown family album. She stands beside him, thin in the chilly wind Robert Frost Reluctance Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view Dina Del Bucchia Wow! You’ve Changed You’ve changed. You used to be so and now you’re all like, you’ve transformed I don’t know how to describe it’s like you don’t like canasta anymore you text IN ALL CAPS Tommy Pico You can’t be an NDN person in today’s world You can't be an NDN person in today's world and write a nature poem. I swore to myself I would never write a nature poem. Let's be clear, I hate nature — hate its guts Vanessa Angélica Villarreal Praying Herd: For Safe Journey Draw a line through our scattered bodies. The pattern of fallen calves in this meadow will mirror the constellation above. Look up. We whip our tails to a silent song: Don Paterson Francesca Woodman i At the heart there is a hollow sun by which we are constructed and undone William Carlos Wiliams Danse Russe If I when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping Langston Hughes The Negro Speaks of Rivers I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers. Natalie Diaz From The First Water is the Body 2345*. The river is my sister—I am its daughter. It is my hands when I drink from it, my own eye when I am weeping, and my desire when I ache like a yucca bell Bliss Carman Lord of My Heart’s Elation Lord of my heart’s elation, Spirit of things unseen, Be thou my aspiration Christian Bök From Chapter I Writing is inhibiting. Sighing, I sit, scribbling in ink this pidgin script. I sing with nihilistic witticism, disciplining signs with trifling gimmicks — impish Language English