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 Alexander Pope Ode on Solitude Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, 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 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, 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. Raoul Fernandes An Online Friend Dies Somewhere Outside the Internet Freezes, goes blue screen, shuts down. Dead pixel, dark. Ghost echoes, lossy in the source code. Time zones away, people who have actually shaken hands with my online friend 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 Naomi Shihab Nye Famous The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds Natalie Scenters-Zapico Buen Esqueleto Life is short & I tell this to mis hijas. Life is short & I show them how to talk to police without opening the door, how to leave the social security number blank 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 Jen Sookfong Lee Community Garden There, the bolting black kale, taller than it has any right to be and not the twitter troll who asked if you were on your period. In the corner, a pile of dead zucchini leaves, spotted with rot 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 — Lindsay Nixon niya Ulrikka Gernes K was supposed to come with the key, I was K was supposed to come with the key, I was to wait outside the gate. I arrived on time, the time we had agreed on and waited, as agreed, 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 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 Anne Bradstreet The Author to Her Book Thou ill-form’d offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth didst by my side remain, Till snatched from thence by friends, less wise than true, Claudia Rankine from Citizen The rain this morning pours from the gutters and everywhere else it is lost in the trees. You need your glasses to single out what you know is there because Juliane Okot Bitek Day 62 Unless you believe in the eye of the needle this kind of poverty will never be about material it won't be about ragged clothing or mud huts with broken walls or river blindness Ruth Daniell Poem for My Body No one else rescued me. Not my father or my brother or, years later, the gentle man who became my husband. Not my mother or my best friend or any of the women who listened to me tell my story Dante Gabriel Rossetti Insomnia Thin are the night-skirts left behind By daybreak hours that onward creep, And thin, alas! the shred of sleep 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; 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 William Cowper Light Shining out of Darkness God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, Yone Noguchi The Poet Out of the deep and the dark, A sparkling mystery, a shape, Something perfect, Ariana Reines Inner Life Those tweets I sent about Duke Ellington While my mom was being evicted again According to what ethics under the sun Can I possibly have been speaking? A Kind of private feeling I can’t even place here 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 Marjorie Pickthall Finis Give me a few more hours to pass With the mellow flower ofthe elm-bough falling, And then no more than the lonely grass And the birds calling. Give me a few more days to keep 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 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 Gwendolyn Brooks kitchenette building We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan, Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” makes a giddy sound, not strong Like “rent,” “feeding a wife,” “satisfying a man.” John Clare I Am I am — yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes — 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 Lauren Turner from Quit Dying to Die When the doctors burrowed into my body, they unearthed a slew of tumours. Growths speckled across lungs and kidneys. Douglas Walbourne-Gough Ella Josephine Campbell Slim, slight. Sinew and bird bones. Cords of her hands like spruce roots. Came from Ship Cove to Crow Gulch with little more than the child inside her, landed in a small shack flanked by Jane Mead From World of Made and Unmade In my dream my mother comes with me. We are in the meadows we call The Flats, walking the dogs. Walk straight past the water trough, she says, do not engage the moss. Wallace Stevens The Snow Man One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, Srikanth Reddy Underworld Lit XIV Please print clearly and remember your name. 1) The river of fire, in ancient Greek thanatopography, feeds into the river of _____________. Michael Fraser Coloured Hockey League of the Maritimes The puck skates in on parted-snow ice. It's the season’s last game, an encore to stomach winter’s sliver, to shrug off the townsfolk stares. The moonlit night is advanced in years Sir Walter Raleigh The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd If all the world and love were young, And truth in every Shepherd’s tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move, Emily Riddle Dinosaur Economics i wanted bitumen to be made of dead dinosaurs. why did i want these ancient kin to be passively implicated in the fossil fuel industry? it Language English