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 Don McKay Sometimes a Voice (1) Sometimes a voice — have you heard this? — wants not to be voice any longer, wants something whispering between the words, some Joseph Dandurand The First Day When I was five I was put on a bus and sent to Catholic school not unlike my mother who was five when she was put on a train and sent to residential school, both feeling that gut feeling Michael Ondaatje Sweet Like a Crow For Hetti Corea, 8 years old ‘The Sinhalese are beyond a doubt one of the least musical people in the world. It would be quite impossible to have 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 Dennis Lee 400: Coming Home You are still on the highway and the great light of noon comes over the asphalt, the gravelled shoulders. You are on the highway, there is a kind of Meghan Kemp-Gee A Newly Discovered Species of Lizard with Distinctive Triangular Scales I am Charles Darwin. I eat owlflesh at Cambridge University. I have discovered something, an entirely new species with tropical fever in its reptile fingers. I am busy with taxonomying its most peculiar and three-sided Dionne Brand Verso 3.1 At first there's no lake in the city, at first there are only elevators, at first there are only constricting office desks; there are small apartments and hamburger joints and Anne Carson From Red Doc GOODLOOKING BOY wasn’t he / yes/ blond / yes / I do vaguely / you never liked 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 Erin Mouré Homage to the Mineral of the Onion (I) In the onion, there’s something of fire. That fire known as Fog. The onion is the way Sylvia Legris 4 Marked by Claws and Cloudburst... The calendar marred with birds and you are kik-kik-kik-kicking all the way into June. 180 days scratched with black X’s and crow’s feet: bird-of-two minds (goodandevil … Irving Layton The Cold Green Element At the end of the garden walk the wind and its satellite wait for me; their meaning I will not know Daniel David Moses Hotel Centrale, Rotterdam I am awake between stiff sheets tonight in room thirty four, listening to the heat Joshua Whitehead Full Metal Oji-Cree this is the transsensorium there are indo-robo-women fighting cowboys on the frontier & winning finally the premodern is a foundation for the postmodern wintermute, tessier-ashpool, armitage Gregory Scofield I’ll Teach You Cree with the tip of my spring tongue, ayîki frog your mouth will be the web catching apihkêsis words, … Bertrand Bickersteth The Bow I only know rivers Waters elongated to the unrumpled recitatif of endless land The Bow knows Has tongued and grooved the firmament, baby, of this Last Best The Bow knows Soraya Peerbaye Tide Would I have seen her? The tide tugging her gently past the Comfort Inn; houses, tall and gabled, Sonnet L'Abbé Poor Speaker I understand you. I get what you’re trying to say. What you’re trying to say is you want me to get it. I get it. You want me to understand. You want me to know Louise Bernice Halfe April 30, 2014 Weeds are flattened beneath last year’s tire tracks others lay burden by the winter’s heavy snow. The crocuses labor through this thick blanket. I am sun drained from the bleakness Eve Joseph You knock on the door Kevin Irie Current The sludge-slow flow of the visible current opens a path we can’t continue, tugs at what no hand can pull along. It’s how even water loses memory, travels a direction it cannot find, Damian Rogers Good Day Villanelle You ran naked out the door. The neighbours laughed; I chased you down. I hardly see you anymore. Suzanne Buffam Dream Jobs Random Link Clicker. Royal Bath Taker. Receiver of Foot Rubs and Praise. F. R. Scott Laurentian Shield Hidden in wonder and snow, or sudden with summer, This land stares at the sun in a huge silence Endlessly repeating something we cannot hear. Shane Book World Town Entirely windless, today’s sea; of these waters’ many names the best seemed “field-of-pearl-leaves,” for it smelled like the air in the house he built entirely of doors: pink school door, Katherena Vermette mixed tape side a: 1. 18 and Life her friend takes her to 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. Rita Wong fluorine arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane Dane Swan Pride A half-hour. Thirty minutes. One thousand eight hundred seconds. They sat. Ward Maxwell grass grass is unusual it was invented by the Romans unlike most people grass stays where it grows if grass had gone to the moon it would be there today because grass looks luxurious Stuart Ross I Have Something to Tell You I’ve come to talk to you about shaving cuts I was waiting across the road right over there for the light to turn and you were on the other side fumbling with change at the newspaper box Molly CROSS-BLANCHARD Dear Dolphin The shaman at Broadway and Main with a plastic shaker and some sage says you’re my power animal. Says we both have big brains, like to chatter. Suzanne Buffam The New Experience I was ready for a new experience. All the old ones had burned out. They lay in little ashy heaps along the roadside Ken Babstock Fire Watch Hello, listen, I’m on a field phone, do not speak until I say “over.” Repeat, don’t talk until I say “over.” Over. Do you understand, or was your silence intentional? Over. Lorna Crozier Not the Music Not the music. It is this other thing I keep from all of them that matters, inviolable. I scratch in my journals, a mouse rummaging through cupboards, Wayne Keon howlin at the moon take the moon nd take a star when you don’t know who you are paint the picture in your hand nd roll on home take my fear nd take the hunger take my body M. NourbeSe Philip Salmon Courage Here at Woodlands, Moriah, these thirty-five years later, still I could smell her fear. Sarah Tolmie 39 Oliver Sacks is going to die, He tells us blithely in the New York Times. He’s 81. His liver’s shot. He’s blind in one eye Though when both worked fine 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 Weyman Chan monday thaw On TV it looked like a high-speed photo of a milk drop the dying leader of the Pana Wave laboratory cult smack in the centre. Acres of white cloth streamered his followers, who Language English