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 Sennah Yee Internet Safety My dad taught me to never give out my real name, age, address, or photos. This seemed obvious to me. My fake birthday entry was always my crush's birthday plus a John Keats La Belle Dame sans Merci: A Ballad O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake, Charles Sangster Sonnet VII from ‘Sonnets Written in the Orillia Woods’ Our life is like a forest, where the sun Glints down upon us through the throbbing leaves;… 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’… Ian Williams Echolalia Once one gets what one wants one no longer wants it. One no longer wants what? Marvin Frances more treaty lines 1790 → treaty 2, district of Hesse (step into wolf) province of quebec “We do herby certify that the following goods were delivered to the several Nations” Yone Noguchi The Poet Out of the deep and the dark, A sparkling mystery, a shape, Something perfect, George Elliott Clarke Blank Sonnet The air smells of rhubarb, occasional Roses, or first birth of blossoms, a fresh, Undulant hurt, so body snaps and curls John Donne A Hymn to God the Father Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run, Robert Creeley Self-Portrait He wants to be a brutal old man, an aggressive old man, Don Paterson Francesca Woodman i At the heart there is a hollow sun by which we are constructed and undone Jen Sookfong Lee Community Garden There, the bolting black kale, taller than it has any right to be and not the twitter troll who asked if you were on your period. In the corner, a pile of dead zucchini leaves, spotted with rot George Herbert The Pulley When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, “Let us,” said he, “pour on him all we can. Conor Kerr What Do You Believe In? Do you believe in the ghosts of aunties and uncles that drive old sin- gle-bench pickup trucks spotted with bullet-hole rust, sweetgrass and 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. Layli Long Soldier From Whereas Whereas my eyes land on the shoreline of “the arrival of Europeans in North America opened a new chapter in the history of Native Peoples.” Because in others, I hate the act Kaveh Akbar River of Milk bear with me it wasn’t long ago I was brainless lazily pulling fireflies into my teeth chewing them into pure light so much of me then was nothing Ted Berrigan Hall of Mirrors To Kristin Lems We miss something now as we think about it Margaret Atwood Death of a Young Son by Drowning He, who navigated with success the dangerous river of his own birth once more set forth Naomi Shihab Nye Famous The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds Richard Harrison With the Dying of the Light I recited to him, Now as I was young and easy, and in the cough-afflicted wheeze that was left of my father’s voice, 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 — Paul Laurence Dunbar We Wear the Mask We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, — This debt we pay to human guile; Erin Mouré Homage to the Mineral of the Onion (I) In the onion, there’s something of fire. That fire known as Fog. The onion is the way 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, Lucia Misch The Problem With Being a Box Too Small for Its Contents Love, you ask too many questions. Let’s agree: we are whole —John Thompson, “Ghazal II” I take apart the watch Don Kerr Editing the Prairie Well, it’s too long for one thing and very repetitive. Remove half the fields. Then there are far too many fences interrupting the narrative flow. Get some cattlemen to cut down those fences. Michael Longley The Boxers We were combatants from the start. Our dad Bought us boxing gloves when we were ten — Champions like Euryalus, say, or Epeius 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 Mary di Michele If Stone Dreams We cannot know this statue, this satyr with his head propped on a wineskin; we cannot know if he dreams. In fact, Bernard Ferguson juxtaposition with seeds i thought you were gone / stupid bird / darling worms shifting in the mud / this time i am not so certain / is it kinship or are you gloating? / have i grown bitter with the bees / how they bring the blooms reliably? Kaveh Akbar How Prayer Works Tucked away in our tiny bedroom so near each other the edge of my prayer rug covered the edge of his, my brother and I prayed. We were 18 and 11 maybe, or 19 and 12. He was back from college where he built his own 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 F. R. Scott Laurentian Shield Hidden in wonder and snow, or sudden with summer, This land stares at the sun in a huge silence Endlessly repeating something we cannot… Suzanne Buffam Dream Jobs Random Link Clicker. Royal Bath Taker. Receiver of Foot Rubs and Praise. Monica Sok Self-Portrait in Siem Reap The French chef says, Try the foie gras, it’s very good. So I treat myself to the liver of a force-fed goose. Give it to me on a crostini with black currant! Anne Bradstreet Before the Birth of One of Her Children All things within this fading world hath end, Adversity doth still our joyes attend; No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet, Robert W. Service The Cremation of Sam McGee There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales Emily Dickinson “Hope” is the thing with feathers— “Hope” is the thing with feathers — That perches in the soul — And sings the tune without the words — Jane Munro Sonoma He totaled his blue truck — slowly spun out on an icy bridge, rammed it into a guard rail. Language English