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 Paul Muldoon The Loaf When I put my finger to the hole they’ve cut for a dimmer switch in a wall of plaster stiffened with horsehair it seems I’ve scratched a two-hundred-year-old itch Isabella Valancy Crawford The Dark Stag A startled stag, the blue-grey Night, Leaps down beyond black pines. Behind — a length of yellow light — George Herbert Love (III) Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack Aref Qazvini Tulips Bloom from Youths’ Blood I. It’s the season of wine, meadows, and Rose The court of spring is cleared of choughs and crows Generous clouds now water Rey[1] more freely than Khotan[2] Natalie Shapero Not Horses What I adore is not horses, with their modern domestic life span of 25 years. What I adore is a bug that lives only one day, especially if it’s a terrible day, a day of train derailment or Jillian Christmas Northern Light Stepping off the plane in Whitehorse the last thing I expect to feel is home not quite alone but close enough here in this great black north. As we drive away from the airport Robert Burns To a Mouse On Turning up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785 Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie, O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! Anne Bradstreet Before the Birth of One of Her Children All things within this fading world hath end, Adversity doth still our joyes attend; No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet, 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, Elizabeth Bishop One Art The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Wayde Compton Illegalese: Floodgate Dub (for the Chinese maroons, British Columbia, 1999–2001) if you arrive in the belly of a rusting imagination, there are grounds to outlaw you. but Canada is a remix B-side chorus in the globalization Emily Dickinson Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Marilyn Dumont Let the Ponies Out oh papa, to have you drift up, some part of you drift up through water through fresh water into the teal plate of sky soaking foothills, papa, Yi Lei Between Strangers Stranger, who can measure the distance between us? Distance is the rumor of a never-before-seen sea. Distance the width of a layer of dust. Maybe we need only strike a match Anne Carson From Red Doc GOODLOOKING BOY wasn’t he / yes/ blond / yes / I do vaguely / you never liked Marianne Moore Poetry I too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle. … 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. 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 Ralph Waldo Emerson The Snow-Storm Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Lady Mary Chudleigh To the Ladies Wife and servant are the same, But only differ in the name: For when that fatal knot is tied, 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 Chen Chen Self-Portrait as So Much Potential Dreaming of one day being as fearless as a mango. As friendly as a tomato. Merciless to chin & shirtfront. Realizing I hate the word “sip.” But that’s all I do. Eve Joseph You knock on the door Tina Biello C Wing 1 Your mother is missing, the nurse hovers at the door . Your mother is missing, a bit louder this time. As if this was natural, a daily game of let's find the Italian, Dante Gabriel Rossetti Insomnia Thin are the night-skirts left behind By daybreak hours that onward creep, And thin, alas! the shred of sleep George Bowering Pale Blue Cover In the middle of the night Matt would fly to Vancouver so he could take a walk on the sea wall the next day, then go home. Wouldnt tell anyone, no telephone call, just run a scene through his peculiar Ontario head, no snow on that… Rita Wong fluorine arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane Queen Elizabeth I When I was Fair and Young When I was fair and young, then favor graced me. Of many was I sought their mistress for to be. But I did scorn them all and answered them therefore: William Shakespeare Sonnet XXIX: When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, 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 Sylvia Plath Blackberrying Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries, Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly, A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries Leigh Hunt Rondeau Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Brandi Bird 19 I triage the landscape. The prairies are numb today and so am I. I am too thin. Built like I won't explode on hot afternoons, a mirror to the sky. My body is a hurt where tall grasses grow, where Naomi Shihab Nye The Young Poets of Winnipeg scurried around a classroom papered with poems. Even the ceiling, pink and orange quilts of phrase... they introduced one another, perched on a tiny stage to read their work, blessed their teacher who Langston Hughes Theme for English B The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you — Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? 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 Kim Hyesoon That feeling of my soul getting yanked That feeling of my soul getting yanked I wonder where my soul hides when I’m sick My heart feels as if it’s getting beat up Is it because the restless ocean is clumping up? Lorine Niedecker What horror to awake at night What horror to awake at night and in the dimness see the light. Time is white 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 Tara Borin Nuisance Only the thickness of log and triple-paned glass between my children and the open maw of a bear. I slip warm chocolate chip cookies from the pan Language English