Search Categories - Any -25 Lines or FewerCanadaPre 21st Century21st Century Grade levels 7-9 / Sec. 1-3 10-12 / Sec. 4 & 5 / CEGEP 1 Sort by RandomNewestMost popularA -> ZZ -> A Apply Sadiqa de Meijer Jesse’s Farm We’re driving and the radio says mass marine extinctions within a generation. No silence, no sirens — an unflustered inflection, then stock markets, cryptic as Latin mass. I force myself: the interval John Keats To Autumn Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless 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 Marianne Moore Poetry I too, dislike it: there are things that are important … 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 Sarah Yi-Mei Tsiang Winter House My father threw his language overboard, a bag of kittens, waterlogged mewling: small hard bodies. My mother hung on to hers — Wove the words like lace, an open web Emily Brontë Shall earth no more inspire thee Shall earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now? Since passion may not fire thee 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 Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea Adam Posed Could our first father, at his toilsome plow, Thorns in his path, and labor on his brow, Clothed only in a rude, unpolished skin, Jaclyn Desforges #BLESSED Sunbeams aren’t something I notice. Mostly it’s my own breasts, bobbing with effort like I’m a man writing the story of a woman and the way her nipples strain politely Tina Cane Imaginary Dad Was so imaginary he ceased to exist Anne Bradstreet To My Dear and Loving Husband If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee. If ever wife was happy in a man, Matthew Rohrer Dog Boy ONE Late at night in Oklahoma, a very small, an extremely small man ran across the road in front of my friend’s car. He does not doubt this is real, though the rest of us do, and it doesn’… Lynn Crosbie Modestine We have each tried to read to him, with no success, except for James, who read him all of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes Anne Carson From Red Doc GOODLOOKING BOY wasn’t he / yes/ blond / yes / I do vaguely / you never liked 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 Hollie McNish Embarrased i thought it was ok - i could understand the reasons they said there might be young children or a nervous man seeing this small piece of flesh that they weren’t quite expecting A. E. Housman To an Athlete Dying Young The time you won your town the race We chaired you through the market-place; Man and boy stood cheering by, 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 Samantha Nock Kiwetinohk Ohci stop at the edge of everything—bend down and stick your hands in the dirt.grab a fist full of soil and pull it close: inhale. William Blake Introduction to the Songs of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, Pascale Petit The Lammergeier Daughter That night, I opened your wardrobe and found a trophy of vultures, their necks pierced by hanger hooks. I saw at once that you hunted everything I loved — e.e. cummings anyone lived in a pretty how town anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter Rosanna Deerchild the second time i ask mama about residential school she says no i ask her again she says no the third time i stop listen to her silence 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. Ben Jonson Song: To Celia Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; Nicole Brossard Smooth Horizon of the Verb Love 1 an urban image from the eighties when we hung out at Chez Madame Arthur P. K. Page Planet Earth It has to be loved the way a laundress loves her linens, the way she moves her hands caressing the fine muslins knowing their warp and woof, like a lover coaxing, or a mother praising. Marianne Moore The Fish wade through black jade. Of the crow-blue mussel shells, one keeps 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 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— Edgar Albert Guest It Couldn’t Be Done Somebody said that it couldn’t be done But he with a chuckle replied That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one 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 Joshua Whitehead Full Metal Oji-Cree this is the transsensorium there are indo-robo-women fighting cowboys on the frontier & winning finally the premodern is a foundation for the postmodern wintermute, tessier-ashpool, armitage Ada Limón The Raincoat When the doctor suggested surgery and a brace for all my youngest years, my parents scrambled to take me to massage therapy, deep tissue work, osteopathy, and soon my crooked spine 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 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. Jorie Graham On the Last Day I left the protection of my plan & my thinking. I let my self go. Is this the hope I thought. Light fled. We have a world to lose I thought. Summer fled. The Alexander Pope Ode on Solitude Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, Walter De La Mare The Listeners ‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the grasses Pagination « First First page ‹ Previous Previous page … 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 … Next › Next page Last » Last page Language English