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 Yusuf Saadi Spacetime We Twitter, Tinder, Tumblr through eternity. Loquacious text messages flit from fingertips, waves of data spill through our skulls. Every cm2 of oxygen overflowing 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? Kaie Kellough people arrived people arrived from portugal. people arrived from africa. people arrived from india. people arrived from england. people arrived from china. people Kim Hyesoon That feeling of my soul getting yanked That feeling of my soul getting yanked I wonder where my soul hides when I’m sick My heart feels as if it’s getting beat up Is it because the restless ocean is clumping up? Jack Gilbert Alone I never thought Michiko would come back after she died. But if she did, I knew it would be as a lady in a long white dress. It is strange that she has returned as somebody's dalmatian. I meet Thomas Campion Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow, Though thou be black as night And she made all of light, Natalie Scenters-Zapico Lima Limón :: Madurez I wear a peineta & pin a mantilla to my hair I want to be Conchita Piquer warning women about becoming lemons. The goal: tener alguien quien me quiera. I want to be my mother singing me Sally Ito God the Tea Master All the weapons we marshal to confront the day You ask to be left by the door before entering. The sword in its sheath must lie on the grass, the quiver and bow hung off a branch. 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, Percy Bysshe Shelley England in 1819 An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying King; Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn, — mud from a muddy spring; William Blake The Tyger Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Aphra Behn Love Armed Love in Fantastic Triumph sat, Whilst Bleeding Hearts around him flowed, For whom Fresh pains he did Create, Gary Snyder Riprap Lay down these words Before your mind like rocks. placed solid, by hands Wang Xiaoni I Feel the Sun Down a long, long corridor I keep walking… —A window straight ahead so bright it hurts the eyes, Walt Whitman A Noiseless Patient Spider A noiseless patient spider, I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated, Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, Brandon Wint From: Incantation: Memory of Water Tonight, a strand of my great-grandmother’s hair sashes an amber beer bottle discarded by a tourist. A white thread of my grandmother’s baptismal robe is a bangle on a wrist of kelp William Shakespeare Blow, blow, thou winter wind Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Duncan Campbell Scott En Route The train has stopped for no apparent reason In the wilds; A frozen lake is level and fretted over 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, 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 Ilya Kaminsky We Lived Happily during the War And when they bombed other people’s houses, we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America John Keats When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charactery, John Milton On Shakespeare. 1630 What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones, The labor of an age in pilèd stones, Or that his hallowed relics should be hid 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, Alfred, Lord Tennyson The Princess: Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font. 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’… Sara Teasdale Barter Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Damian Rogers Good Day Villanelle You ran naked out the door. The neighbours laughed; I chased you down. I hardly see you anymore. John Dryden You charm’d me not with that fair face You charm’d me not with that fair face Though it was all divine: To be another’s is the grace, Robert Herrick To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today Lewis Carroll A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky A boat, beneath a sunny sky, Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July — William Shakespeare Sonnet CXVI: Let me not to the marriage of true minds Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Billy Collins Introduction to Poetry I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light like a color slide 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, 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 Christina Rossetti Up-Hill Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day’s journey take the whole long day? Archibald Lampman A Thunderstorm A moment the wild swallows like a flight Of withered gust-caught leaves, serenely high, Toss in the windrack up the muttering sky. E. Pauline Johnson Marshlands A thin wet sky, that yellows at the rim, And meets with sun-lost lip the marsh’s brim. The pools low lying, dank with moss and mould, Rachael Boast Cocteau Twins I’ve heard the phrase between you and me too many times to believe it to be true, but between me and you Alexander Pope Ode on Solitude Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, Language English