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 Chimwemwe Undi A History of Houses Built Out of Spite Madhur Anand You Are Not Going to Come Trillium But I do come to Trillium. To the Cardiac Short Stay Unit where you’ve been sent for the second stent, where free sanitizer prevents the spread of panic. 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 Joanne Kyger A Story from Easter: He Has Risen There is a mouse under the sink Little mouse turds around in the kitchen drawers It is raining, storming The refrigerator has gone to the dump Donald's back 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 Andrea Thompson Enigma Who I am depends on which side of my skin you stand on. In here it’s all neurons firing synapses telling stories blood tracing ancestral histories Roxanna Bennett The Trick Let me be a ''poet of cripples" not a patient etherized upon a table, not a brain floating within a body. In a moment I must be a body in the place incision produces in a body, 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 Cedar Sigo Poems for Saints (1) 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, 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 Nathaniel Mackey On Antiphon Island — “mu” twenty-eighth part — On Antiphon Island they lowered the bar and we bent back. It wasn't limbo we were in albeit Kayla Czaga Livejournal.com/lonelyradio We could read your words from anywhere but you felt like the only soul sitting in your swivel chair listening to your parents dream-breathing down the hall while you typed Deanna Young Holy Ghost We had no paper then, or we had no pen, or no words. How to say it. We had no voice. No listeners. Just deaf night Natalie Diaz From The First Water is the Body 2345*. The river is my sister—I am its daughter. It is my hands when I drink from it, my own eye when I am weeping, and my desire when I ache like a yucca bell Carmine Starnino Money Coin Exhibit, British Museum. Their misshapenness strikes the table in tiny splashes, like still-cooling splatters of silver. Stater and shekel, Ted Berrigan Hall of Mirrors To Kristin Lems We miss something now as we think about it 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”) Matthew Weigel On the Boundaries of Treaty No. 6 commencing to the place of beginning; emptying; in 1959 the South Saskatchewan river was dammed; forever altering the boundary of Treaty no. 6; such that it technically no longer exists; Neil Surkan On High There was busy air there, air seething through the leaves so, from farther up, the tree-line shone like a single scintillating polyhedron. Still, though ravens and wrens flaked off the top, Cassandra Myers Lake Baptiste Ungenders Me upon contact / head first / baptismal the rind of me / peels into ribbons of foam / and pearls / i re-brown at the water’s touch / its two-way mudmirror / hands me its own name / earthliquid / bottomless Kim Hyesoon That feeling of my soul getting yanked That feeling of my soul getting yanked I wonder where my soul hides when I’m sick My heart feels as if it’s getting beat up Is it because the restless ocean is clumping up? Lillian Allen I saw a perfect tree today I saw a perfect tree today From my cabin bed on a Via Rail train Through the North of Ontario I saw a perfect tree today It was tall and thin and scraggly and prim Then I saw another just as perfect Chantal Gibson Veronica? What's it like at the centre of the AGO? Hmm. Imagine being coloured, drawn, and placed in a wooden frame, another hung woman, positioned Anna Yin Picking Up a Dandelion Before dawn, I pick you up, then bring you closer. My fingers slowly roll over your body, removing seeds attached to you, free them into the air. I hear you sigh Kai Cheng Thom What the Queer Community Should Have Told Us 1. you are perfect & also flawed 2. you are allowed to make mistakes & you must be accountable for them 3. accountability is not a price you pay in blood for being human 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 Etel Adnan voyage, oh voyage! voyage, oh voyage! the final fire that ravages the air unveils the soil on which we walk aimlessly and tirelessly the hypocrisy of the strong protects us Kevin Connolly Plenty The sky, lit up like a question or an applause meter, is beautiful like everything else today: the leaves dg nanouk okpik Moon of the Returning Sun A view from two sides of Polaris, it is said: the living awaits destined relatives to retort. These people go around waking the sleeping ones Rita Wong Declaration of Intent let the colonial borders be seen for the pretensions that they are i hereby honour what the flow of water teaches us the beauty of enough, the path of peace to be savoured Jessie Loyer pimîhkân Here's how you make pemmican 1. wiyâs 2. pânisâwân 3. kâhkêwak 4. yîwahikanak 5. pimîhkân Here's how you make pemmican 1. meat Dan Taulapapa McMullin Turtle Island Poem Number Fourteen once i left turtle island and i rejoined la and doubleU and see to savai‘i on a hunting trip on the fairy from upolu la picked up a day trick blew him during lunch James Millhaven Closure On the night we dug up your father’s body (for reasons I can no longer remember) we took turns with the shovel as we passed a bottle of Whyte & Mackay back and forth. Suzannah Showler Too Negative I was a kid other kids’ parents gossiped about. They told their children what I was: too negative. I get it. Fair to fear contagion of bad attitudes, Titilope Sonuga I Am l am gap tooth black girl back corner of class scribbling left-handed poetry on blank paper save the school's curriculum for later I am Lucille Clifton won't you celebrate with me won’t you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a kind of life? i had no model. born in babylon both nonwhite and woman what did i see to be except myself? i made it up Teva Harrison When I Become You I'd like to close the distance between us: where you end, where I begin, but your skin stops me, I can't find my way in. If I could, I'd press every bit of me against you Ivanna Baranova confirmation bias at least in our waking life most commemoration doubles as force since even the most benign zodiacal conceptions are tinged eurocentric when brown women die Larissa Lai big ghosts big ghosts contra band my diction war korea's north sees red as america flags china's chopped limb british crowns hong kong cut for duplicity more capitalist than capitalist Language English