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 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, 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 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 Rabindranath Tagore Gitanjali 35 Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broken up into… Amy Lowell A Fixed Idea What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Matthew Weigel On the Boundaries of Treaty No. 6 commencing to the place of beginning; emptying; in 1959 the South Saskatchewan river was dammed; forever altering the boundary of Treaty no. 6; such that it technically no longer exists; Gerard Manley Hopkins Pied Beauty Glory be to God for dappled things — For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim… Lee Maracle Language Do you speak your language? I stare — I just said: how are you? I thought English was my language apparently it isn’t I thought Halkomelem was gibberish the devil’s language that’s what the nuns said Thomas Campion Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow, Though thou be black as night And she made all of light, Edgar Allan Poe To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicéan barks of yore, That gently, o’er a perfumed sea, Gwendolyn Brooks kitchenette building Joshua Jennifer Espinoza Comfort 11 am. Time to wake up. Muscles sore, jaw clenched, warm light scattering dreams of violence across the bedroom. I've chosen a self H. D. Helen All Greece hates the still eyes in the white face, the lustre as of olives Gerard Manley Hopkins The Windhover I caught this morning morning’s minion, king- dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling… Walt Whitman A Noiseless Patient Spider A noiseless patient spider, I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated, Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, John Donne Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow Emily Dickinson I felt a Funeral, in my Brain I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading — treading — till it seemed Afua Cooper At the Centre Today doves flew from my head and my hair grew the longing is gone from my body Lorine Niedecker What horror to awake at night What horror to awake at night and in the dimness see the light. Time is white Kim Addonizio Aquarium The fish are drifting calmly in their tank between the green reeds, lit by a white glow that passes for the sun. Blindly, the blank glass that holds them in displays their slow 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,… 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 Lorna Goodison Ideas of Home i Winter has landed; my boot bucks on a stone surrounded by snow; I swear, I murmur Oracabessa. “The rock” is what I call home, all islanders do, and I’m in blessed Ann Arbour, Archibald Lampman A Thunderstorm A moment the wild swallows like a flight Of withered gust-caught leaves, serenely high, Toss in the windrack up the muttering sky. Anna Yin Picking Up a Dandelion Before dawn, I pick you up, then bring you closer. My fingers slowly roll over your body, removing seeds attached to you, free them into the air. I hear you sigh 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, 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. (Later, they would find the duo nestled into my cortex.) A Starry Night, the ultrasound technician titled my organs… 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 Suzannah Showler Too Negative I was a kid other kids’ parents gossiped about. They told their children what I was: too negative. I get it. Fair to fear contagion of bad attitudes, Edmund Waller Song Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, Damian Rogers Good Day Villanelle You ran naked out the door. The neighbours laughed; I chased you down. I hardly see you anymore. 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 John Keats When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charactery, Rita Wong fluorine arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane Katherine Philips Epitaph On her Son H.P. at St. Syth’s Church where her body also lies interred What on Earth deserves our trust? Youth and Beauty both are dust. Edgar Allan Poe A Dream Within a Dream Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow — George Murray Cowboy Story The books sit on the shelf, a row of coma patients in a ward, a series of selves no longer able to learn and trapped at the point of injury: the last page. William Butler Yeats An Irish Airman Foresees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, 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 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 So sleepy the institution returned Language English