April is National Poetry Month, a time dedicated to reading, writing, speaking and promoting poetry in Canada.
To ensure that the word of National Poetry Month is heard across the country, the League of Canadian Poets sponsors readings and performances across Canada and produces a blog that features the works of LCP members.
In 2013, the League of Canadian Poets will be celebrating the Fifteenth Anniversary of National Poetry Month, celebrating the wealth of beautiful poetry created by talented Canadians across the country.
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Monthly Archives: April 2013
Perfumed Sentence … a perfume is not the same as a sentence … – David Howes Don’t tell me that perfume cannot be a sentence, that trees are not language, because to deny this is to deny that hands can … Continue reading
It’s a boy Complete this sentence: As long as it’s healthy… By the time your startle reflex has kicked in and he’s tested his grasp of your finger (melting your belly from the outside) you’ll have counted his toes one … Continue reading
Rain You don’t pray for rain in mountains. It comes and goes as if to home — sometimes wandering in clouds, other times running into rising streams. The soil is … Continue reading
Loving an Old Dog There were days loosed from the leash when she’d burst from fall-frail leaves, lungs ecstatic with young daylight. She found mud where there’d been no rain or river, tracked paths to squirrel dens and litterbug ravines. … Continue reading
Once I Fashioned Wings I’m in her garden, among the roses, flowers wrapped in plastic bags, bees placed in match boxes tied with string, yellow ants kept in old shoe-polish tins, fish that seem to float upside down, birds tethered … Continue reading
The Bird Girls That was the year they’d call the night before like birds that congregate on black phone wires to plan what to wear to school the next day: skirts, though it was a deathly winter there. They were … Continue reading
The Disarmed Heart People arrive at a nuclear site to dismantle various missiles and other weapons of mass destruction Hands gently and tenderly peel away pieces of a shield from a large, viscous red heart until a bit of the … Continue reading
Untitled (The Mole Rat) Maybe there’s a poem for the cool of the bus in my hair, like the whole network of hidden vein lines in clear eyes, or the air rattling under the stop-caller’s white words. In this poem, … Continue reading
The Year of (white) Fun There are some things I just don’t like to think about. There are some places I just don’t like to go. Sometimes I feel so old. Sometimes I feel false. Don’t let my face tell … Continue reading
Dinosaur Aloft (at the Royal Ontario Museum) How sleep loves bones: nightly she tends Tyrannosaurus, comforts through the thundering seasons of its life and in its death holds deep its darkening bones. Discovery, slow dynamite, brings into light those bones … Continue reading