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 Wanda Coleman In That Other Fantasy Where We Live Forever we were never caught we partied the southwest, smoked it from L.A. to El Dorado worked odd jobs between delusions of escape drunk on the admonitions of parents, parsons & professors Gwendolyn Brooks kitchenette building Raoul Fernandes An Online Friend Dies Somewhere Outside the Internet Freezes, goes blue screen, shuts down. Dead pixel, dark. Ghost echoes, lossy in the source code. Time zones away, people who have actually shaken hands with my online friend 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 George Herbert Love (III) Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack 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; Ada Limón We Are Surprised Now, we take the moon into the middle of our brains so we look like roadside stray cats with bright flashlight-white eyes in our faces, but no real ideas of when or where to run. David Groulx On Seeing a Photograph of My Mother at St. Joseph Residential School for Girls A black and white picture The sun is shining through a window behind you Your hair black short Your small brown hands folded neatly on a tiny wooden desk Douglas Gary Freeman memories of my youth as children we learned to stand on one leg clasping bundles of hope between our teeth not because we wanted to resemble flocks of black flamingos Kaie Kellough people arrived people arrived from portugal. people arrived from africa. people arrived from india. people arrived from england. people arrived from china. people Eve Joseph You knock on the door Ian Williams Echolalia Once one gets what one wants one no longer wants it. One no longer wants what? 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, John Milton Sonnet XXIII: Methought I Saw my Late Espoused Saint Methought I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove’s great son to her glad husband gave… Sarah Tolmie 31 We’re all aware that human hair is dead Yet we spend thousands taking care of it. It’s like an endless funeral. The moment your hair hits air, it’s toast. It only lives inside the follicle. William Carlos Wiliams Danse Russe If I when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping 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. (Later, they would find the duo nestled into my cortex.) A Starry Night, the ultrasound technician titled my organs… William Shakespeare Sonnet CXVI: Let me not to the marriage of true minds Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, 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, Chantal Gibson How She Read Oh, how she read this. Girl Hoa Nguyen My Idea of the Circus Is My Idea of the Circus Otherwise Known As: My Mother Was a Celebrated Stunt Motorcyclist, Vietnam, 1958 to 1962 Very loud a mad frenzy The wooden barrel she rode would have roared (I first wrote “road”) Sarah Tolmie 39 Oliver Sacks is going to die, He tells us blithely in the New York Times. He’s 81. His liver’s shot. He’s blind in one eye Though when both worked fine Robert Burns A Red, Red Rose O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody William Wordsworth The World Is Too Much With Us The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; — Little we see in Nature that is ours; Bernard Ferguson juxtaposition with seeds i thought you were gone / stupid bird / darling worms shifting in the mud / this time i am not so certain / is it kinship or are you gloating? / have i grown bitter with the bees / how they bring the blooms reliably? Christian Bök From Chapter I Writing is inhibiting. Sighing, I sit, scribbling in ink this pidgin script. I sing with nihilistic witticism, disciplining signs with trifling gimmicks — impish Tommy Pico You can't be an NDN person in today's world You can't be an NDN person in today's world and write a nature poem. I swore to myself I would never write a nature poem. Let's be clear, I hate nature — hate its guts Sylvia Legris 4 Marked by Claws and Cloudburst... The calendar marred with birds and you are kik-kik-kik-kicking all the way into June. 180 days scratched with black X’s and crow’s feet: bird-of-two minds (goodandevil goodandevil); Margaret Fuller Flaxman We deemed the secret lost, the spirit gone, Which spake in Greek simplicity of thought, And in the forms of gods and heroes wrought 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, 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. 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, 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. Ada Limón How to Triumph Like a Girl I like the lady horses best, how they make it all look easy, like running 40 miles per hour is as fun as taking a nap, or grass. I like their lady horse swagger, Edgar Allan Poe “Alone” From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were — I have not seen As others saw — I could not bring 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 Vanessa Angélica Villarreal Praying Herd: For Safe Journey Draw a line through our scattered bodies. The pattern of fallen calves in this meadow will mirror the constellation above. Look up. We whip our tails to a silent song: 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 Yoko Ono Color Piece Visual world not exactly shaped – Sense of smell, anticipation, senses that are not exactly shaped — Dark shadows casted — Rat colors with faint hairly smells and pale Sachiko Murakami Wishing Well My fist holds as many coins as I can carry. All are stamped with the Queen's effigy; Elizabeth, D.G. Regina, the resident of pockets, a woman I've never met though I always know Language English