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 Wordsworth Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: Amy Uyematsu A Practical Mom can go to Bible study every Sunday and swear she’s still not convinced, but she likes to be around people who are. We have the same conversation every few years — I’ll ask her if she stops Kate Hall Insomnia If I were to sleep, it would be on an iron bed, bolted to the floor in a bomb-proof concrete room with twelve locks on the door. Sharon Olds From the Window of My Home-Town Hotel On the lee slope of the small coastal mountain which conceals the sun the first hour after its rising, in the dry, steep ravines, the live mist of the heat is seething like dust left over from an earlier world. 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; Alootook Ipellie Walking Both Sides of an Invisible Border It is never easy Walking with an invisible border Separating my left and right foot Tiana Clark The Ayes Have It When I think of Trayvon Martin, I think of Emmett Till, when I think of Emmett Till, I think of young, black men in the South, Therese Estacion The ABG (Able-Bodied Gaze) Tyler B. Perry FLOOD The hallway is an empty riverbed, smooth and barren. At three o’clock classroom doors open like dams. Gullies of teens stream out, to become one Chen Chen When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities To be a good ex/current friend for R. To be one last inspired way to get back at R. To be relationship advice for L. To be advice for my mother. To be a more comfortable Chen Chen Self-Portrait as So Much Potential Dreaming of one day being as fearless as a mango. As friendly as a tomato. Merciless to chin & shirtfront. Realizing I hate the word “sip.” But that’s all I do. Mina Assadi The Dictator’s Message The Dictator’s Message O poets return, we have swept your homeland clean of thorns and splinters O writers return, to make a record of your works Juliane Okot Bitek Day 62 Unless you believe in the eye of the needle this kind of poverty will never be about material it won't be about ragged clothing or mud huts with broken walls or river blindness Luljeta Lleshanaku January 1, Dawn After the celebrations, people, TV channels, telephones, the year’s recently-corrected digit finally falls asleep. Between the final night and the first dawn a jagged piece of sky Bunkong Tuon Moon in Khmer You are light when the sun is punched out and darkness reigns. You are the antidote to what came before: black blood, black heart, hands tied, kneeling before a ditch of human bones. Philip Larkin This Be The Verse They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. Rosemary Griebel Walking with Walt Whitman Through Calgary’s Eastside on a Winter Day Blue-white afternoon. The Bow river churns and smokes as the city rumbles, economy chokes and bundled homeless build cardboard homes in the snow. Yes, Walt, this is the new 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, 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 John Clare I Am I am — yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes — 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 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 Carl Phillips My Meadow, My Twilight Sure, there’s a spell the leaves can make, shuddering, and in their lying suddenly still again — flat, and still, like time itself when it seems unexpectedly more Majzoob Tabrizi Fire in the Reeds One night, fire fell into a reed bed It burned like love falling onto a soul As fire’s head warmed to its work every reed turned into a candle at its own grave Sandra Ridley From Silvija If you can’t speak / write in a fissured / alter-language Of nerve-matter / dura mater / orbit of the central axis By a crevice / scattered / venous lacunae / lamina code 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 — Mathew Henderson Badlands Your father worked Drumheller while you ate and slept at home. He travelled the badlands, squatted below rocks, read books you never knew he read. He sat until his eyes strained to know 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, C. D. Wright Re: Happiness, in pursuit thereof It is 2005, just before landfall. Here I am, a labyrinth, and I am a mess. I am located at the corner of Waterway Sylvia Plath Blackberrying Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries, Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly, A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries William Butler Yeats The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, 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 Alexis Pauline Gumbs another set of instructions we are asking you to trust your hands. put them on your heart. trust your heart. hear what we are saying. trust what you hear. we are asking you to build a circle. always a circle. not almost a circle. face Jane Byers March on Washington, 1993 What struck me first was the sheer numbers, queers everywhere. Battalions of sailors and infantry, proud in their uniforms. Eventually, I made uneasy peace with this equal right. Edmund Waller Song Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, 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! Lucia Misch The Problem With Being a Box Too Small for Its Contents Love, you ask too many questions. Let’s agree: we are whole Gregory Scofield I’ll Teach You Cree with the tip of my spring tongue, ayîki frog your mouth will be the web catching apihkêsis words, … Michael Crummey Newfoundland Sealing Disaster Sent to the ice after white coats, rough outfit slung on coiled rope belts, they stooped to the slaughter: gaffed pups, 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, Language English