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 Gary Snyder Riprap Lay down these words Before your mind like rocks. placed solid… 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”) Alice Oswald A Short Story of Falling It is the story of the falling rain to turn into a leaf and fall again it is the secret of a summer shower to steal the light and hide it in a flower Molly CROSS-BLANCHARD First Time Smudge It takes eight matches, a burnt thumb, and a quick Google search to light the sweetgrass braid Mom scored for me from an elder at work. Always use matches, she said. Spirit likes matches. Lady Mary Chudleigh To the Ladies Wife and servant are the same, But only differ in the name: For when that fatal knot is tied, Stephanie Bolster Portrait of Alice with Elvis Queen and King, they rule side by side in golden thrones above the clouds. Her giggle and wide eyes remind him Thomas Wyatt They Flee From Me They flee from me that sometime did me seek With naked foot, stalking in my chamber. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek, Victoria Chang Civility Civility–died on June 24, 2009, at the age of 68. Murdered by a stroke whose paintings were recently featured in a 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, Harryette Mullen it’s rank, it cranks you up it’s rank it cranks you up crash you’re fracked you suck shucks you’re wack you be all you cracked up to be dead on arrival overdosed on whatever excess of hate and love Robert Burns Ae Fond Kiss Tune: Rory Dall’s Port First printed in Johnson’s S.M.M., Vol. 4, 13th August 1792. Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; … 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, Marjorie Pickthall When Winter Comes Rain at Muchalat, rain at Sooke, And rain, they say, from Yale to Skeena, And the skid-roads blind, and never a look Afua Cooper Shots Rang Out on My Street Today Boyakka! Boyakka! Boyakka! Boyakka! Boyakka! Boyakka! Boyakka! Boyakka! Boyakka! Shots rang out on my street today Three Black yoots lay dead shot inna dem head Robert Frost After Apple Picking My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill Connie Fife the knowing the re-invention of oneself through the tongues of whispering mountains the re-arrangement of the universe Jessie Jones Eclipse In every which way, I am living for potential. I’ve mined cadmium enough to roulette with Death and Mars, bloodshot brute, is swollen in my honour. My function is action — to pummel through concrete Lawrence Ferlinghetti Constantly Risking Absurdity (#15) Constantly risking absurdity … Jason Purcell Men in the Gut Scrape the inside of sleep the belly wall tasting like yoghurt cooked broccoli its emptiness leaving something on the tongue. Escaping the body that wants to quit from the inside. Mercedes Eng Mariah according to my yt mama when I try to talk to my mom about what it was like to grow up surrounded by yt people in the prairies in the 80s though it seemed like the 50s she tells me in a so-there tone dg nanouk okpik Moon of the Returning Sun A view from two sides of Polaris, it is said: Queen Elizabeth I On Monsieur’s Departure I grieve and dare not show my discontent, I love and yet am forced to seem to hate, I do, yet dare not say I ever meant, Ian Williams Echolalia Once one gets what one wants one no longer wants it. One no longer wants what? Bliss Carman Low Tide on Grand Pré The sun goes down, and over all These barren reaches by the tide Such unelusive glories fall, Tyler Pennock I have so many now. I have so many now. There’s one where we were giants, playing with our size by falling over houses and trees, laughing. There’s another where I was racing the old ones in a game, and we stopped Rupert Brooke The Soldier If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be 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 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 A. M. Klein Heirloom My father bequeathed me no wide estates; No keys and ledgers were my heritage; Only some holy books with yahrzeit dates… Marvin Frances mcPemmican TM1 first you get the grease from canola buffalo then you find mystery meat you must package this in Guillaume Apollinaire The Little Car The 31st day of August 1914 I left Deauville a little before midnight In Rouveyre’s little car Sara Peters You’d Have to Pay Me Could You Pay Me Enough You’d have to pay us Could you pay us enough To live for a stretch Wilfred Owen The Last Laugh ‘O Jesus Christ! I’m hit,’ he said; and died. Whether he vainly cursed, or prayed indeed, The Bullets chirped — In vain! vain! vain! 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 Matthew Arnold Dover Beach The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the French coast the light Fred Wah “Breathe dust…” Breathe dust like you breathe wind so strong in your face little grains of dirt which pock around the cheeks peddling against a dust-storm… 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 Di Brandt my mother found herself my mother found herself one late summer afternoon lying in grass under the wild yellow plum tree jewelled with sunlight she was forgotten there in spring picking rhubarb for pie & the children home from 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? Méira Cook Adam Father He wakes up naked and drunk as a bear on sun-fermented garbage. Hungover and queasy and riled up by bees. Nothing going well today, he moans, life being short and the craft, ah, long. Pagination « First First page ‹ Previous Previous page … 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 … Next › Next page Last » Last page Language English