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 Leah Horlick For You Shall Be Called to Account The ancestors of everyone I’ve let into my body are gathered in a small room with one window, no lights. Yes, the room is crowded. Yes, there are no chairs. Yes, they are talking. Why are we 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 Weyman Chan But I’m No One for M. Maylor Dear Anne Carson: My friend read me the poem where your mom said that the dead walk backwards. You thought this myth arose from poor translation. Sarah de Leeuw Skeena Crossing What is this this crossing? In the photo just in front of the train with the crane at the edge of the drop Tyler B. Perry FLOOD The hallway is an empty riverbed, smooth and barren. At three o’clock classroom doors open like dams. Gullies of teens stream out, to become one Adam Dickinson Hail Hello from inside the albatross with a windproof lighter John Ashbery Interesting People of Newfoundland Newfoundland is, or was, full of interesting people. Like Larry, who would make a fool of himself on street corners for a nickel. There was the Russian who called himself Emma Healey Trust Fund Witches Cicely Belle Blain London I some towers are made of cladding some made of ivory some burn in the night some built by slaves wind rushes through coarse hair 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 Charles Heavysege The Dead How great unto the living seem the dead! How sacred, solemn; how heroic grown; How vast and vague, as they obscurely tread Raymond Knister Boy Remembers in the Field What if the sun comes out And the new furrows do not look smeared? This is April, and the sumach candles Lorna Crozier Not the Music Not the music. It is this other thing I keep from all of them that matters, inviolable. I scratch in my journals, a mouse rummaging through cupboards, 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 Kate Hall Insomnia If I were to sleep, it would be on an iron bed, bolted to the floor in a bomb-proof concrete room with twelve locks on the door. 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. Louise Bernice Halfe April 30, 2014 Weeds are flattened beneath last year’s tire tracks others lay burden by the winter’s heavy snow. The crocuses labor through this thick blanket. I am sun drained from the bleakness Sarah Yi-Mei Tsiang Dick Pics Two dicks, sitting in my daughter’s inbox, like men without hats, waiting for any door to open. * Sighting a stranger’s penis Wilfred Campbell How One Winter Came in the Lake Region For weeks and weeks the autumn world stood still, Clothed in the shadow of a smoky haze; The fields were dead, the wind had lost its will, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson i am graffiti i am writing to tell you that yes, indeed, we have noticed Dionne Brand From Verso 4 I was nine and I stood at the top of the street for no reason except to make the descent of the gentle incline toward my house where I lived with everyone and everything in the world, my sisters and my cousins were with me, we had our bookbags… Aisha Sasha John Regardless If I am judged If I am punished If I am dismissed If I am misunderstood If I am celebrated If I am envied If I am competed with If I am slandered against If I am seen Michael Crummey Newfoundland Sealing Disaster Sent to the ice after white coats, rough outfit slung on coiled rope belts, they stooped to the slaughter: gaffed pups, Shane Book World Town Entirely windless, today’s sea; of these waters’ many names the best seemed “field-of-pearl-leaves,” for it smelled like the air in the house he built entirely of doors: pink school door, 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. Fiona Tinwei Lam Weed Killer Our mother gave us a sack of weed killer the size of a toddler, and told us to spread it on the front lawn. My sister and I lugged it there. A light cloud of white powder El Jones Glass Hands: A Eulogy on the Anniversary of the Pandemic Hands pressed to glass On the fence across from the long-term care home families leave memorials for auntie, kokum, baba Ink runs in the rain and half-mast flags John McCrae In Flanders Fields In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky Gwendolyn MacEwen A Breakfast for Barbarians my friends, my sweet barbarians, there is that hunger which is not for food — but an eye at the navel turns the appetite Stuart Ross I Have Something to Tell You I’ve come to talk to you about shaving cuts I was waiting across the road right over there for the light to turn and you were on the other side fumbling with change at the newspaper box Alden Nowlan The Bull Moose Down from the purple mist of trees on the mountain, lurching through forests of white spruce and cedar, stumbling through tamarack swamps, A. J. M. Smith The Lonely Land Cedar and jagged fir uplift sharp barbs against the gray Emily Riddle Please Write a Poetry Book in Syllabics1 i want to complicate the term sacred, she told me to make holy sacerdotal: priestly sākris: to make a treaty 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 Donato Mancini you aren’t going to like what i have to say before i start i want to say you shouldn’t blame yourself there’s no point in beating around the bush there’s something we need to talk about this is the most difficult thing i’ve ever had to tell anyone Al Purdy Say the Names — say the names say the names and listen to yourself an echo in the mountains Tulameen Tulameen say them like your soul was listening and overhearing and you dreamed you dreamed 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. Wayne Keon howlin at the moon take the moon nd take a star when you don’t know who you are paint the picture in your hand nd roll on home take my fear nd take the hunger take my body 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. Hoa Nguyen Blousy Guitar Blousy guitar I don’t want to count the beats Hey Hey My pen I have bed hair in the best way Daughter of sunlight and air and I’m glad you were born Language English