Search Categories - Any -25 Lines or FewerCanadaPre 21st Century21st Century Grade levels 7-9 / Sec. 1-3 10-12 / Sec. 4 & 5 / CEGEP 1 Sort by RandomNewestMost popularA -> ZZ -> A Apply 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 Suzanne Buffam The New Experience I was ready for a new experience. All the old ones had burned out. They lay in little ashy heaps along the roadside N. Scott Momaday The Visions of Stone Carrier Stone Carrier was my grandfather, my father, my brother, andmy son. He was a good and brave man, and he taught me manythings. He shared some of his memories with me, memories Ralph Waldo Emerson Give All to Love Give all to love; Obey thy heart; Friends, kindred, days, Ulrikka Gernes K was supposed to come with the key, I was K was supposed to come with the key, I was to wait outside the gate. I arrived on time, the time we had agreed on and waited, as agreed, 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, 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. Rita Wong fluorine arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane Natalie Scenters-Zapico Buen Esqueleto Life is short & I tell this to mis hijas. Life is short & I show them how to talk to police without opening the door, how to leave the social security number blank 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… Edgar Allan Poe Annabel Lee It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know Ruth Daniell Poem for My Body No one else rescued me. Not my father or my brother or, years later, the gentle man who became my husband. Not my mother or my best friend or any of the women who listened to me tell my story Robert Bringhurst These Poems, She Said These poems, these poems, these poems, she said, are poems with no love in them. These are the poems of a man Eve Joseph You knock on the door Dane Swan Pride A half-hour. Thirty minutes. One thousand eight hundred seconds. They sat. 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, John Milton On Shakespeare. 1630 What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones, The labor of an age in pilèd stones, Or that his hallowed relics should be hid Alfred, Lord Tennyson The Charge of the Light Brigade I. Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, Mary di Michele If Stone Dreams We cannot know this statue, this satyr with his head propped on a wineskin; we cannot know if he dreams. In fact, Molly CROSS-BLANCHARD Dear Dolphin The shaman at Broadway and Main with a plastic shaker and some sage says you’re my power animal. Says we both have big brains, like to chatter. Alfred, Lord Tennyson Ulysses It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, Charles Heavysege The Dead How great unto the living seem the dead! How sacred, solemn; how heroic grown; How vast and vague, as they obscurely tread Victoria Chang Civility Civility–died on June 24, 2009, at the age of 68. Murdered by a stroke whose paintings were recently featured in a Edgar Allan Poe To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicéan barks of yore, That gently, o’er a perfumed sea, Charlie Petch How to Tell If a Poem Is Trans or Not Look directly at the crotch Gently wave away all thoughts about how you never cared about crotches of poems before this poet Consider the subject Léopold Sédar Senghor The Young Sun’s Greeting The young sun’s greeting On my bed, your letter’s glow All the sounds that burst from morning Blackbirds’ brassy calls, jingle of gonoleks Your smile on the grass, on the radiant dew. Ruth Roach Pierson After Betty Goodwin’s The Memory of the Body (1993) As Whitman sang the body electric Goodwin sings the body forested: dense stand of dark-trunked saplings illumined by a blood-streaked sky, ominous forest where abandoned children wander Fevziye Rahgozar Barlas An Innocent Little Girl The little girl is innocent they’ve put henna on her hands they’ve plaited her hair beautifully they’ve put kohl round her eyes they’ve dyed her eyebrows Thomas Hardy The Man He Killed “Had he and I but met By some old ancient inn, We should have sat us down to wet Roy Miki Kome’s Story for auntie nagasaki it's the same story told again & again the modulations & the machinations the maudlin Carl Sandburg I Am the People, the Mob I am the people — the mob — the crowd — the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me? I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and clothes. Spencer Butt Wrk this job hates me this job wouldn’t make me feel so shitty if it didn’t i’m nothing but nice to this job but when this job is done with me it always sneaks out while 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 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 Dylan Thomas Fern Hill Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green, The night above the dingle starry, 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 Fariha Róisín the many descriptions of being brown White people tell you to apologize for yourself through gestures, through small talk, through the ways in which they ask, “Where are you from?” and Michael Fraser Coloured Hockey League of the Maritimes The puck skates in on parted-snow ice. It's the season’s last game, an encore to stomach winter’s sliver, to shrug off the townsfolk stares. The moonlit night is advanced in years 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? Thomas Hardy Hap If but some vengeful god would call to me From up the sky, and laugh: “Thou suffering thing, Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy, Pagination 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 … Next › Next page Last » Last page Language English