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 Percy Bysshe Shelley Ozymandias I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said — “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.... Near them, on the sand, 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 Matthew Zapruder Sun Bear yesterday at the Oakland zoo I was walking alone for a moment past the enclosure holding the sun bear Gregory Scofield I’ll Teach You Cree with the tip of my spring tongue, ayîki your mouth will be the web catching apihkêsis words, 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 M. NourbeSe Philip Salmon Courage Here at Woodlands, Moriah, these thirty-five years later, still I could smell her fear. Ezra Pound A Virginal No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately. I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness, For my surrounding air hath a new lightness; William Blake Introduction to the Songs of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, E. J. Pratt From The Titanic: The Iceberg Calved from a glacier near Godhaven coast, It left the fiord for the sea — a host Of white flotillas gathering in its wake, Joy Kogawa Where There’s a Wall Where there’s a wall there’s a way through a gate or door. There’s even Thomas Hardy Channel Firing That night your great guns, unawares, Shook all our coffins as we lay, And broke the chancel window-squares, Margaret Atwood They are hostile nations 1 In view of the fading animals the proliferation of sewers and fears 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 then again, unresolved: “No, I mean...Where are you 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 and every flower a tiny tributary 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,… Connie Fife the knowing the re-invention of oneself through the tongues of whispering mountains the re-arrangement of the universe Roo Borson From Summer Grass The willows are thinking again about thickness, slowness, lizard skin on hot rock, and day by day this imaging transforms them Mathew Henderson Badlands Your father worked Drumheller while you ate and slept at home. He travelled the badlands, squatted below rocks, read books … 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, Edgar Albert Guest It Couldn’t Be Done Somebody said that it couldn’t be done But he with a chuckle replied That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one Kevin Irie Current The sludge-slow flow of the visible current opens a path we can’t continue, tugs at what no hand can pull along. It’s how even water loses memory, travels a direction it cannot find, bill bissett dont worry yr hair dont worry yr eyes dont worry yr brain man th snow is cummin th bright burds flyin highr, th Lady Mary Chudleigh To the Ladies Wife and servant are the same, But only differ in the name: For when that fatal knot is tied, Brandon Wint From: Incantation: Memory of Water Tonight, a strand of my great-grandmother’s hair sashes an amber beer bottle discarded by a tourist. A white thread of my grandmother’s baptismal robe is a bangle on a wrist of kelp 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, 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 Naomi Shihab Nye Famous The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds Emily Dickinson “Hope” is the thing with feathers— “Hope” is the thing with feathers — That perches in the soul — And sings the tune without the words — Alootook Ipellie Walking Both Sides of an Invisible Border It is never easy Walking with an invisible border Separating my left and right foot 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… Abdellatif Laâbi Two Hours on the Train During two hours on the train I rerun the film of my life Two minutes per year on average Half an hour for childhood Another half-hour for prison Love, books, wandering take up the rest Stevie Smith Not Waving But Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought 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 Robert Frost The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood 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 Ashley Qilavaq-Savard Skins what a glory feeling it is to sit in the sun by the oceanside as tulugait and naujait sing circling above and scrape skins with centuries of arnait guiding my ulu Rupert Brooke The Soldier If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be Changming Yuan Chinese Chimes: Nine Detours of the Yellow River you are unaware of your obscure sources but you are explicitly sure of the vast sea as your final destination Robert Browning Life in a Love Escape me? Never — Beloved! 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 Language English