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 Earle Birney Vancouver Lights About me the night moonless wimples the mountains wraps ocean land air and mounting sucks at the… Faith Arkorful Family Affair they say we are a family that is good at death / i make a decision to hold a seminar on how to live / i schedule this party for my uncles on the first day of spring / my dead uncles play hooky with the afterlife Tina Biello C Wing 1 Your mother is missing, the nurse hovers at the door . Your mother is missing, a bit louder this time. As if this was natural, a daily game of let's find the Italian, Kai Cheng Thom diaspora babies diaspora babies, we are born of pregnant pauses/spilled from unwanted wombs/squalling invisible-ink poems/written in the margins of a map of a place called No Homeland jaye simpson urban NDNs in the DTES had a dozen foster parents tell me to run from my mother’s truth the track marks up her arm, Paul Muldoon The Loaf When I put my finger to the hole they’ve cut for a dimmer switch in a wall of plaster stiffened with horsehair it seems I’ve scratched a… Joy Harjo Praise the Rain Praise the rain, the seagull dive The curl of plant, the raven talk- Praise the hurt, the house slack Valzhyna Mort Nocturne for a Moving Train The trees I’ve glimpsed from the window of a night train were the saddest trees. They seemed about to speak, then— vanished like soldiers. Lorna Crozier Packing for the Future: Instructions Take the thickest socks. Wherever you're going you'll have to walk. There may be water. There may be stones. There may be high places you cannot go without Grace Nichols Moon-Gazer On moonlight night when moon is bright Beware, Beware— Moon-Gazer man with his throw-back head and his open legs gazing, gazing up at the moon Moon-Gazer man 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 RC Weslowski Let's Not Get It Together The world has become corrupted from our hearts to the way our gods love us as if they know they’re already dying and they’re determined to drag us down with them Siku Allooloo Arnauqatikka i. Maybe it’s your old way kind of vision… That looking past and through David McGimpsey 71. Song for a Silent Treatment. I told her, in plain language, how I felt. And by that I mean I mumbled a poorly paraphrased and already… 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 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 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 Matthew Walsh Garbage Box with Black Loons My father's speech was slurred most of my childhood — but it's a rite of passage for many Maritime Canadians 'cause I heard from a friend of a friend that linguists say our accent Soraya Peerbaye Tide Would I have seen her? The tide tugging her gently past the Comfort Inn; houses, tall and gabled, Lorine Niedecker What horror to awake at night What horror to awake at night and in the dimness see the light. Time is white John Elizabeth Stintzi America (I’m Putting My Queer Shoulder to the Wheel) The night America took off her mask we slept together poorly. I'd woken up early that Tuesday, dragged myself to a gymnasium in Jersey City to cast my vote into the void. Natalie Scenters-Zapico Lima Limón :: Madurez I wear a peineta & pin a mantilla to my hair I want to be Conchita Piquer warning women about becoming lemons. The goal: tener alguien quien me quiera. I want to be my mother singing me James Langer St John’s Burns Down for the Umpteenth Time Let’s say the fix was in. Let’s say history, Being human and thus short on ideas, Made change from an old bag of tricks. Say this Kaveh Akbar How Prayer Works Tucked away in our tiny bedroom so near each other the edge of my prayer rug covered the edge of his, my brother and I prayed. We were 18 and 11 maybe, or 19 and 12. He was back from college where he built his own 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 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); 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. Sabyasachi Nag Catastrophe That Nearly Brought Down a Plane After late-night Li Bo, on a plane to Houston, out of sheer intumescence I begin unravelling a sickness bag— starting with the wired throat, then the pleated sides, then bottom. Emma Healey Trust Fund Witches Sennah Yee Internet Safety My dad taught me to never give out my real name, age, address, or photos. This seemed obvious to me. My fake birthday entry was always my crush's birthday plus a Tomasz Rózycki 11. Headwinds When I began to write, I didn’t know each of my words would bit by bit remove things from the world and in return leave blank Elise Partridge Chemo Side Effects: Memory Where is the word I want? Groping in the thicket, George Murray Cowboy Story The books sit on the shelf, a row of coma patients in a ward, a series of selves no longer able to learn and trapped at the point of injury: the last page. Eve Joseph You knock on the door 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, 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? Laurie D. Graham Fast Commute The meteorologists are pleading with us to keep checking back through the storm, ice pellets making a carpet two, three inches thick, this pale beach we walk on, this wind that passed 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 i’m still sleeping Chantal Gibson How She Read Oh, how she read this. Girl Margaret Avison The Swimmer’s Moment For everyone The swimmer's moment at the whirlpool comes, But many at that moment will not say Language English