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 Wallace Stevens The Snow Man One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, 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 P. K. Page The Blue Guitar They said, ‘You have a blue guitar, You do not play things as they are.’ The man replied, ‘Things as they are… Robert Frost The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood 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 — Edna St. Vincent Millay I think I should have loved you presently I think I should have loved you presently, And given in earnest words I flung in jest; And lifted honest eyes for you to see, Anne Bradstreet To My Dear and Loving Husband If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee. If ever wife was happy in a man, Wang Xiaoni I Feel the Sun Down a long, long corridor I keep walking… —A window straight ahead so bright it hurts the eyes, 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. Fevziye Rahgozar Barlas An Innocent Little Girl The little girl is innocent they’ve put henna on her hands they’ve plaited her hair beautifully they’ve put kohl round her eyes they’ve dyed her eyebrows Octavio Paz Wind, Water, Stone for Roger Caillois Water hollows stone, wind scatters water, stone stops the wind. Water, wind, stone. Wind carves stone, 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 used to be rare. Remember raincoats? Andrew Marvell To His Coy Mistress Had we but world enough and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way Natalie Scenters-Zapico Buen Esqueleto Life is short & I tell this to mis hijas. Life is short & I show them how to talk to police without opening the door, how to leave the social security number blank Bob Hicok Love poem The woman I love braids her hair. She’s Eve and Eve means breathe, to give life, my wife, from Eva by way of the Hebrew havah. At dusk I unlock her hair 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? Hart Crane At Melville’s Tomb Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge The dice of drowned men’s bones he saw bequeath An embassy. Their numbers as he watched, 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 Ward Maxwell grass grass is unusual it was invented by the Romans unlike most people grass stays where it grows if grass had gone to the moon it would be there today because grass looks luxurious Dorothy Parker One Perfect Rose A single flow’r he sent me, since we met. All tenderly his messenger he chose; Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet— Gregory Scofield I’ll Teach You Cree with the tip of my spring tongue, ayîki your mouth will be the web catching apihkêsis words, Jason Camlot Dear Death, Am I a praise poet or a blame poet? Today I am a blame poet. O Death, face it, existence doesn’t like you. You can’t sing. You can’t paint. Carl Sandburg I Am the People, the Mob I am the people — the mob — the crowd — the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me? I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and clothes. Majzoob Tabrizi Fire in the Reeds One night, fire fell into a reed bed It burned like love falling onto a soul As fire’s head warmed to its work every reed turned into a candle at its own grave 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, Tiana Clark The Ayes Have It When I think of Trayvon Martin, I think of Emmett Till, when I think of Emmett Till, I think of young, black men in the South, then I think of young, white men in the South. 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 Suzanne Buffam The New Experience I was ready for a new experience. All the old ones had burned out. They lay in little ashy heaps along the roadside Emily Dickinson Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Walter De La Mare The Listeners ‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the grasses Gerard Manley Hopkins Spring Nothing is so beautiful as Spring — When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens,… Valerie Mason-John The Windrush Dem did sey she pregnance Cum a sea full a mi Weighing har down eena har shoe dem Dresses, coco, mangoes an baggy an arl Dem did sey de ship nearly sink Mi mumma nebah sleep a wink 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 Raymond Souster Lagoons, Hanlan’s Point Mornings before the sun’s liquid spilled gradually, flooding 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 William Blake The Chimney Sweeper: A little black thing among the snow A little black thing among the snow, Crying “weep! ‘weep!” in notes of woe! “Where are thy father and mother? say?” Armand Garnet Ruffo Filament Always that spectral fragment. Filament of line cast back there. Where open-mouthed fish rise to gulp down shiny lures. I sang once in an auditorium to almost empty rows. Lee Maracle War In my body flows the blood of Gallic Bastille stormers and the soft, gentle ways of Salish/Cree womanhood. Wallace Stevens The Emperor of Ice-Cream Call the roller of big cigars, The muscular one, and bid him whip In kitchen cups concupiscent curds. 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 Language English