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 Tina Cane Imaginary Dad Was so imaginary he ceased to exist he wasn’t sleeping in a treehouse or stalking the woods in fatigues cheeks smeared green with camouflage grease 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 William Butler Yeats The Second Coming Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Charlotte Smith Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes! How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn! For me wilt thou renew the withered rose, Percy Bysshe Shelley England in 1819 An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying King; Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn, — mud from a muddy spring; Marvin Frances more treaty lines 1790 → treaty 2, district of Hesse (step into wolf) province of quebec “We do herby certify that the following goods were delivered to the several Nations” 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. Leigh Hunt Rondeau Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get 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… 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. Paul Laurence Dunbar We Wear the Mask We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, — This debt we pay to human guile; 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 William Ernest Henley Invictus Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be 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 Yone Noguchi The Poet Out of the deep and the dark, A sparkling mystery, a shape, Something perfect, Ben Jonson Song: To Celia Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; Rita Joe I Lost My Talk I lost my talk The talk you took away. When I was a little girl At Shubenacadie school. You snatched it away: I speak like you I think like you I create like you Robert Creeley Self-Portrait He wants to be a brutal old man, an aggressive old man, Kazim Ali Ramadan You wanted to be so hungry, you would break into branches, and have to choose between the starving month’s nineteenth, twenty-first, and twenty-third evenings. 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; 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, 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 Walt Whitman Beat! Beat! Drums! Beat! beat! drums! — blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows — through doors — burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, 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; Robert Frost Fire and Ice Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire 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. 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 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, Pascale Petit The Lammergeier Daughter That night, I opened your wardrobe and found a trophy of vultures, their necks pierced by hanger hooks. I saw at once that you hunted everything I loved — 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 Edwin Arlington Robinson The House on the Hill They are all gone away, The House is shut and still, There is nothing more to say. Weyman Chan But I’m No One for M. Maylor Dear Anne Carson: My friend read me the poem where your mom said that the dead walk backwards. You thought this myth arose from poor translation. 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. Ilya Kaminsky We Lived Happily during the War And when they bombed other people’s houses, we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America 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. Pamela Mordecai My sister cries the sea My sister is crying and crying her tears grow to salt stormy showers to rain and to rapids and rivers they run to the sea to the sea. My sister sobs softly she knows William Butler Yeats When You Are Old When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Jessie Jones Eclipse In every which way, I am living for potential. I’ve mined cadmium enough to roulette with Death and Mars, bloodshot brute, is swollen in my honour. My function is action — to pummel through concrete 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: Christopher Marlowe The Passionate Shepherd to His Love Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Language English