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 Oliver Wendell Holmes Old Ironsides Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see 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 Robert Burns A Red, Red Rose O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody 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’… 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 Lorna Goodison Ideas of Home i Winter has landed; my boot bucks on a stone surrounded by snow; I swear, I murmur Oracabessa. “The rock” is what I call home, all islanders do, and I’m in blessed Ann Arbour, Edgar Allan Poe A Dream Within a Dream Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow — Dina Del Bucchia Wow! You've Changed You’ve changed. You used to be so and now you’re all like, you’ve transformed I don’t know how to describe it’s like you don’t like canasta anymore you text IN ALL CAPS 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 William Blake The Chimney Sweeper: When my mother died I was very young When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry “‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep!” Lauren Turner from Quit Dying to Die When the doctors burrowed into my body, they unearthed a slew of tumours. Growths speckled across lungs and kidneys. (Later, they would find the duo nestled into my cortex.) A Starry Night, the ultrasound technician titled my organs… Ted Berrigan Hall of Mirrors To Kristin Lems We miss something now as we think about it 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. Emily Brontë Ah! Why, Because the Dazzling Sun Ah! why, because the dazzling sun Restored my earth to joy Have you departed, every one, Robert Browning Confessions What is he buzzing in my ears? “Now that I come to die, Do I view the world as a vale of tears?” Cedar Sigo Poems for Saints (1) Denise Riley Under the Answering Sky I can manage being alone, can pace out convivial hope across my managing ground. Someone might call, later. What do the dead make of us that we’d flay ourselves trying Ezra Pound The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter After Li Po While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead I played about the front gate, pulling flowers. Don McKay Sometimes a Voice (1) Sometimes a voice — have you heard this? — wants not to be voice any longer, wants something whispering between the words, some Kamau Brathwaite Guanahani, 11 like the beginnings — o odales o adagios — of islands from under the clouds where I write the first poem its brown warmth now that we recognize them 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 William Wordsworth Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: 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 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. Margaret Avison The Swimmer’s Moment For everyone The swimmer's moment at the whirlpool comes, But many at that moment will not say Sonnet L'Abbé Poor Speaker I understand you. I get what you’re trying to say. What you’re trying to say is you want me to get it. I get it. You want me to understand. You want me to know Kazim Ali Ramadan You wanted to be so hungry, you would break into branches, and have to choose between the starving month’s nineteenth, twenty-first, and twenty-third evenings. Elizabeth Bishop One Art The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Marie Annharte Baker Saskatchewan Indians Were Dancing 60s pulled us from starvation into government jobs antiquated Indians in Saskatchewan danced for rain Manitoba Indian doings were hidden for a jealous 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 Daniel David Moses Hotel Centrale, Rotterdam I am awake between stiff sheets tonight in room thirty four, listening to the heat Mathew Henderson Badlands Your father worked Drumheller while you ate and slept at home. He travelled the badlands, squatted below rocks, read books … 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… Ben Jonson Song to Celia Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, John Donne Break of Day ’Tis true, ’tis day, what though it be? O wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise because ’tis light? Arielle Twist Brother Your wedding day was a hurricane; your bride in red was like a kiss on on the dry prairie dirt. You actually never told me the story of how it went. The wedding, I mean. In fact, you never told me about how you chose Ariana Reines Inner Life Those tweets I sent about Duke Ellington While my mom was being evicted again According to what ethics under the sun Can I possibly have been speaking? A Kind of private feeling I can’t even place here Leanne Betasamosake Simpson i am graffiti i am writing to tell you that yes, indeed, we have noticed 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 Robert Browning Porphyria's Lover The rain set early in to-night, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, Language English