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 Charles G. D. Roberts The Potato Harvest A high bare field, brown from the plough, and borne Aslant from sunset; amber wastes of sky Washing the ridge; a clamour of crows that fly Ian Williams Echolalia Once one gets what one wants one no longer wants it. One no longer wants what? 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, Don Kerr Editing the Prairie Well, it’s too long for one thing and very repetitive. Remove half the fields. Then there are far too many fences interrupting the narrative flow. Get some cattlemen to cut down those fences. Charles Sangster Sonnet VII from ‘Sonnets Written in the Orillia Woods’ Our life is like a forest, where the sun Glints down upon us through the throbbing leaves; The full light rarely find us. One by one, A. F. Moritz Thou Poem Thou poem of lost attention and half try, do you fear more the inner world or outer? I do not love the self less than the others, 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, Brenda Hillman Equinox Ritual with Ravens & Pines — so we said to the somewhat: Be born — & the shadow kept arriving in segments, cold currents pushed minerals Matt Rader Unspeakable Acts in Cars It’s the first day of summer and we’re so happy To see the sun and the satchel of colours it schleps All those dark kilometres. The sky is so blue And the sea is blue and the small islands in the 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 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 Jonathan Swift A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General His Grace! impossible! what dead! Of old age too, and in his bed! And could that mighty warrior fall? William Wordsworth I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, Pierre Nepveu Last Visit Now I set out across a minefield, space having taken all I owned, I’m starting over from a point where every pebble may explode beneath my shoe and the flowers blaze up behind my body as I gasp for air, 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 Elise Partridge Chemo Side Effects: Memory Where is the word I want? Groping in the thicket, Ted Berrigan Hall of Mirrors To Kristin Lems We miss something now as we think about it Joseph Dandurand The First Day When I was five I was put on a bus and sent to Catholic school not unlike my mother who was five when she was put on a train and sent to residential school, both feeling that gut feeling Stuart Ross I Have Something to Tell You I’ve come to talk to you about shaving cuts I was waiting across the road right over there for the light to turn and you were on the other side fumbling with change at the newspaper box Lauren Turner from Quit Dying to Die When the doctors burrowed into my body, they unearthed a slew of tumours. Growths speckled across lungs and kidneys. Irving Layton The Cold Green Element At the end of the garden walk the wind and its satellite wait for me; their meaning I will not know Jane Mead From World of Made and Unmade In my dream my mother comes with me. We are in the meadows we call The Flats, walking the dogs. Walk straight past the water trough, she says, do not engage the moss. Craig Santos Perez One fish, Two fish, Plastics, Dead fish recycling Dr. Seuss Some fish are sold for sashimi, some are sold to canneries, and some are caught by hungry slaves to feed what wealthy tourists crave! Al Purdy Say the Names — say the names say the names and listen to yourself an echo in the mountains Tulameen Tulameen say them like your soul was listening and overhearing and you dreamed you dreamed Wioletta Greg All About My Grandmother Wheat daughter, prisoner of sneaky pigweed, mother to the five corners of the world and your three hectares, beak-nosed carpenter’s wife and the potter’s lover, Lorna Goodison Ideas of Home i Winter has landed; my boot bucks on a stone surrounded by snow; I swear, I murmur Oracabessa. “The rock” is what I call home, 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, 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, Adam Sol Opus 75, Sestina in B-flat for the Glockenspiel In the empty classroom, at sunrise, a girl sits on the floor, staring at a glockenspiel. She’s shredding the cuticles on her left hand Audre Lorde Hanging Fire I am fourteen and my skin has betrayed me the boy I cannot live without still sucks his thumb in secret how come my knees are always so ashy what if I die before morning Tyler Pennock It was in a boardroom It was in a boardroom that I witnessed the latest killing A room filled with knowledgeable white people trying to understand what we offer shaking their heads Bertrand Bickersteth The Bow I only know rivers Waters elongated to the unrumpled recitatif of endless land The Bow knows Has tongued and grooved the firmament, baby, of this Last Best The Bow knows Randy Lundy The Cactus You sit in the forgotten bone-dry hills surrounded by sand and sagebrush above Buffalo Pound Lake. A day and a night, and then three more days and nights. Leigh Hunt Rondeau Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Hart Crane My Grandmother’s Love Letters There are no stars tonight But those of memory. Yet how much room for memory there is 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 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— George Herbert The Pulley When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, “Let us,” said he, “pour on him all we can. 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 Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnets from the Portuguese 24 Let the world’s sharpness, like a clasping knife, Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm, And let us hear no sound of human strife Language English