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 Billy Collins Introduction to Poetry I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light like a color slide Ron Padgett Prose Poem (“The morning coffee.”) The morning coffee. I’m not sure why I drink it. Maybe it’s the ritual of the cup, the spoon, the hot water, the milk, and the little heap of brown grit, the way they come together to form a nail I can hang the Donato Mancini you aren't going to like what i have to say before i start i want to say you shouldn’t blame yourself there’s no point in beating around the bush there’s something we need to talk about this is the most difficult thing i’ve ever had to tell anyone 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 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 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 Percy Bysshe Shelley Ozymandias I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said — “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.... Near them, on the sand, William Butler Yeats When You Are Old When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Souvankham Thammavongsa Gayatri I have a picture of us when we are seven but we aren’t in it. At the time it was taken we thought we were. We posed with our wide Ada Limón We Are Surprised Now, we take the moon into the middle of our brains so we look like roadside stray cats with bright flashlight-white eyes in our faces, but no real ideas of when or where to run. 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 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 Rita Wong fluorine arsenic in calculators, mercury in felt hats, mad as a poisoned hatter pyrophoric undercurrent in mundane 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. Raymond Antrobus Happy Birthday Moon Dad reads aloud. I follow his finger across the page. Sometimes his finger moves past words, tracing white space. He makes the Moon say something new every night to his deaf son who slurs his speech. Susan Holbrook What Is Poetry (a twelve-tone poem) trite yap show rosy twit heap 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, Katherine Philips Epitaph On her Son H.P. at St. Syth’s Church where her body also lies interred What on Earth deserves our trust? Youth and Beauty both are dust. Douglas Gary Freeman memories of my youth as children we learned to stand on one leg clasping bundles of hope between our teeth not because we wanted to resemble flocks of black flamingos Juliane Okot Bitek Day 62 Unless you believe in the eye of the needle this kind of poverty will never be about material it won't be about ragged clothing or mud huts with broken walls or river blindness Tolu Oloruntoba Tinderbox We were a conflagration asking to be incarnated into the world. Mother, superstitious, kept us apart, two stones of the same igneous anger. Everyone saucered tears Patrick Lane Passing into Storm Know him for a white man. He walks sideways into wind allowing the left of him to forget what the right knows as cold. His ears turn into death what Damian Rogers Good Day Villanelle You ran naked out the door. The neighbours laughed; I chased you down. I hardly see you anymore. 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 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 — Marjorie Pickthall The Wife Living, I had no might To make you hear, Now, in the inmost night, William Shakespeare Spring When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Raymond Antrobus Two Guns in the Sky for Daniel Harris When Daniel Harris stepped out of his car the policeman was waiting. Gun raised. I use the past tense though this is irrelevant in Daniel's language, which is sign. David Alexander Parable of the Eagle An eagle egg fell into a farmer’s chicken shed and when it hatched the farmer gave it chicken feed even though he was the king of birds. The farmer clipped the eaglet’s princely beak and raised him Stevie Smith Not Waving But Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought 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, 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!” 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 Aphra Behn A Thousand Martyrs A thousand martyrs I have made, All sacrific’d to my desire; A thousand beauties have betray’d, 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? 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 Naomi Shihab Nye The Young Poets of Winnipeg scurried around a classroom papered with poems. Even the ceiling, pink and orange quilts of phrase... they introduced one another, perched on a tiny stage to read their work, blessed their teacher who Ben Jonson Song: To Celia Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; 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 Suzanne Buffam Dream Jobs Random Link Clicker. Royal Bath Taker. Receiver of Foot Rubs and Praise. Language English