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 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 cryptic passage Sally Ito God the Tea Master All the weapons we marshal to confront the day You ask to be left by the door before entering. The sword in its sheath must lie on the grass, the quiver and bow hung off a branch. 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 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, Aphra Behn Love Armed Love in Fantastic Triumph sat, Whilst Bleeding Hearts around him flowed, For whom Fresh pains he did Create, 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 Jason Camlot Dear Death, Am I a praise poet or a blame poet? Today I am a blame poet. O Death, face it, existence doesn’t like you. You can’t sing. You can’t paint. Elizabeth Barrett Browning Grief I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air Ada Limón The Raincoat When the doctor suggested surgery and a brace for all my youngest years, my parents scrambled to take me to massage therapy, deep tissue work, osteopathy, and soon my crooked spine Alfred, Lord Tennyson Break, Break, Break Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter Margaret Fuller Flaxman We deemed the secret lost, the spirit gone, Which spake in Greek simplicity of thought, And in the forms of gods and heroes wrought Ada Limón How to Triumph Like a Girl I like the lady horses best, how they make it all look easy, like running 40 miles per hour is as fun as taking a nap, or grass. I like their lady horse swagger, William Shakespeare Blow, blow, thou winter wind Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Dennis Lee Bike-Twister Place a foot upon a pedal, Put your pedal-pushers on; To the pedal pin a paddle, Paddle-pedal push upon. Place the paddle-pedal-cycle On a puddle in the park; 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, Denise Riley Under the Answering Sky I can manage being alone, can pace out convivial hope across my managing ground. Someone might call, later. What do the dead make of us that we’d flay ourselves trying A. M. Klein Heirloom My father bequeathed me no wide estates; No keys and ledgers were my heritage; Only some holy books with yahrzeit dates 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, 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 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, and thrush John Donne A Hymn to God the Father Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run, George Elliott Clarke Blank Sonnet The air smells of rhubarb, occasional Roses, or first birth of blossoms, a fresh, Undulant hurt, so body snaps and curls Billy Collins Introduction to Poetry I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light like a color slide Ella Wheeler Wilcox Solitude Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, Sadiqa de Meijer Women Do This Every Day At the park I look for Levita, because our work is the same— swaying wide-legged over foraging toddlers, we avert bruises, discourage the consumption 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.” 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 Eve Joseph You knock on the door Emma Healey Trust Fund Witches 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, Cynthia Cruz Duras (Poverty) “The link with poverty is there is there in the man's hat, too, for money has got to be brought in, got to be brought in somehow,” M.D., The Lover. Kamau Brathwaite Guanahani, 11 like the beginnings — o odales o adagios — of islands from under the clouds where I write the first poem its brown warmth now that we recognize them 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 Hart Crane At Melville’s Tomb Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge The dice of drowned men’s bones he saw bequeath An embassy. Their numbers as he watched, Ocean Vuong Deto(nation) There’s a joke that ends with — huh? It’s the bomb saying here is your father. Now here is your father inside your lungs. Look how lighter the earth is — afterward. William Wordsworth Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: Thomas Wyatt They Flee From Me They flee from me that sometime did me seek With naked foot, stalking in my chamber. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek, 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 Dionne Brand From Verso 4 I was nine and I stood at the top of the street for no reason except to make the descent of the gentle incline toward my house where I lived with everyone and everything in the world, my sisters and my cousins were with me, we had our bookbags… John Donne Break of Day ’Tis true, ’tis day, what though it be? O wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise because ’tis light? Language English