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 Yone Noguchi The Poet Out of the deep and the dark, A sparkling mystery, a shape, Something perfect, John Clare I Am I am — yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes — David McGimpsey 71. Song for a Silent Treatment. I told her, in plain language, how I felt. And by that I mean I mumbled a poorly paraphrased and already… Walt Whitman O Captain! My Captain! O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, 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, 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 Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnets from the Portuguese 43: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight Bliss Carman Lord of My Heart’s Elation Lord of my heart’s elation, Spirit of things unseen, Be thou my aspiration 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 — Elinor Wylie Full Moon My bands of silk and miniver Momently grew heavier; The black gauze was beggarly thin; Natalie Shapero Not Horses What I adore is not horses, with their modern domestic life span of 25 years. What I adore is a bug that lives only one day, especially if it’s a terrible day, a day of train derailment or Sue Goyette Eight The trick to building houses was making sure they didn’t taste good. The ocean’s culinary taste was growing more sophisticated and occasionally Dylan Thomas Should Lanterns Shine Should lanterns shine, the holy face, Caught in an octagon of unaccustomed light, Would wither up, an any boy of love Marilyn Dumont Let the Ponies Out oh papa, to have you drift up, some part of you drift up through water through fresh water into the teal plate of sky soaking foothills, papa, Russell Atkins Coffee 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. Doyali Islam bhater mondo my mother used to make little rice balls for me. she steamed and clattered about the cramped mustard kitchen, filling a pot with water, swelling and salting and songing Philip Larkin This Be The Verse They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn 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 Wanda Coleman In That Other Fantasy Where We Live Forever we were never caught we partied the southwest, smoked it from L.A. to El Dorado worked odd jobs between delusions of escape drunk on the admonitions of parents, parsons & professors Susan Howe From Titian Air Vent A work of art is a world of signs, at least to the poet’s nursery bookshelf sheltered behind the artist’s ear. I recall each little motto howling its ins and outs to those of us who might as well be on the moon Ezra Pound A Virginal No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately. I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness, For my surrounding air hath a new lightness; Margaret Fuller Flaxman We deemed the secret lost, the spirit gone, Which spake in Greek simplicity of thought, And in the forms of gods and heroes wrought Michael Fraser Coloured Hockey League of the Maritimes The puck skates in on parted-snow ice. It's the season’s last game, an encore to stomach winter’s sliver, to shrug off the townsfolk stares. The moonlit night is advanced in years 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 Jalal al-Din Rumi Where did the handsome beloved go? Where did the handsome beloved go? I wonder, where did that tall, shapely cypress tree go? He spread his light among us like a candle. Where did he go? So strange, where did he go without me? Tina Biello C Wing 1 Your mother is missing, the nurse hovers at the door . Your mother is missing, a bit louder this time. As if this was natural, a daily game of let's find the Italian, Erin Robinsong Late Prayer May our weapons be effective feminine inventions that like life. May we blow up like weeds, and be medicinal and everywhere. May the disturbed ground be our pharmacy. May the exhausted William Shakespeare Blow, blow, thou winter wind Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Kim Addonizio Aquarium The fish are drifting calmly in their tank between the green reeds, lit by a white glow that passes for the sun. Blindly, the blank glass that holds them in displays their slow A. M. Klein Heirloom My father bequeathed me no wide estates; No keys and ledgers were my heritage; Only some holy books with yahrzeit dates 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, Edwin Arlington Robinson Richard Cory Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, 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 William Butler Yeats The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, 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… Ben Ladouceur Tractatus The sun gave our shoulder blades ulu-shaped burns, and the sun gives nothing to our sort I sleep now, and furiously Clouds excreted shadows on the shoreline, and there were no clouds Sandra Ridley From Silvija If you can’t speak / write in a fissured / alter-language Of nerve-matter / dura mater / orbit of the central axis By a crevice / scattered / venous lacunae / lamina code Ben Jonson Song: To Celia Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; 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;… Language English