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 William Blake The Chimney Sweeper: When my mother died I was very young When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry “‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep!” Donika Kelly From the Catalogue of Cruelty Once, I slapped my sister with the back of my hand. We were so small, but I wanted to know how it felt: my hand raised high across the opposite shoulder, slicing down like a trapeze. Conor Kerr What Do You Believe In? Do you believe in the ghosts of aunties and uncles that drive old sin- gle-bench pickup trucks spotted with bullet-hole rust, sweetgrass and 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… 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 Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnets from the Portuguese 43: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight Jerome Rothenberg A Glass Tube Ecstasy a glass tube for my leg says Hugo Ball my hat a cylinder Hart Crane My Grandmother’s Love Letters There are no stars tonight But those of memory. Yet how much room for memory there is e.e. cummings anyone lived in a pretty how town anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter Hari Alluri area boys brash talk on sidewalk brethren to irreverence short teeth long stories ~ aspirations high rolling tape decks tweeters six by nine speakers deep Susan Howe From Titian Air Vent A work of art is a world of signs, at least to the poet’s nursery bookshelf sheltered behind the artist’s ear. I recall each little motto howling its ins and outs to those of us who might as well be on the moon Edgar Allan Poe To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicéan barks of yore, That gently, o’er a perfumed sea, Rita Bouvier Sometimes I Find Myself Weeping at the Oddest Moment sometimes I find myself weeping at the oddest moment Evelyn Lau Dear Updike No, nothing much has changed. A year later, the world is still one you’d recognize — no winged cars to clog the air, Lord (George Gordon) Byron So, we’ll go no more a roving So, we’ll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, 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! Susan Holbrook What Is Poetry (a twelve-tone poem) trite yap show rosy twit heap Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea The Tree Fair tree! for thy delightful shade ’Tis just that some return be made; Sure some return is due from me Margaret Atwood Death of a Young Son by Drowning He, who navigated with success the dangerous river of his own birth once more set forth Carolyn Forché The Colonel WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD is true. I was in his house. His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol on the 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 Anna Laetitia Barbauld The Rights of Woman Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right! Woman! too long degraded, scorned, oppressed; O born to rule in partial Law’s despite, Carmine Starnino Money Coin Exhibit, British Museum. Their misshapenness strikes the table in tiny splashes, like still-cooling splatters of silver. Stater and shekel, Edmund Waller Song Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, 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… Tamar Rubin Perennial For thirty-one years, my mother tried not to miss her. Every week, a little water or the trickle of a few ice cubes dropped in black earth. Years back, in the muck of Toronto, April, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow A Psalm of Life What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! Aphra Behn A Thousand Martyrs A thousand martyrs I have made, All sacrific’d to my desire; A thousand beauties have betray’d, Frank O’Hara The Day Lady Died It is 12:20 in New York a Friday three days after Bastille day, yes it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshine CA Conrad from Sharking of the Birdcage ["the spirit of"] the spirit of your flowers is my favourite shelter we were in love is the main thing 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 Leigh Hunt Rondeau Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get 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, Jane Munro Sonoma He totaled his blue truck — slowly spun out on an icy bridge, rammed it into a guard rail. Edwin Arlington Robinson Miniver Cheevy Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn, Grew lean while he assailed the seasons; He wept that he was ever born, Abigail Chabitnoy Qawanguq with Fox I was walking up some stairs in a building Inside parts of the building were new but no one lived there anymore I passed a lucky fox head on the stairs— 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; Aja Monet the ghosts of women once girls somewhere a little girl is reading aloud in the middle of a dirt road. she smiles at the sound of her own voice escaping the spine of a book. she feeds on her hunger Dane Swan Pride A half-hour. Thirty minutes. One thousand eight hundred seconds. They sat. Protest is not supposed to be comfortable. Sherman Alexie The Powwow at the End of the World I am told by many of you that I must forgive and so I shall after an Indian woman puts her shoulder to the Grand Coulee Dam and… Language English