Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

1. Mascots 1/27/2014
2. Palladiums 1/27/2014
3. Plaster 1/27/2014
4. Testimony Regarding A Ghost 1/27/2014
5. Corn Hut Talk 1/27/2014
6. Spanish 1/27/2014
7. Crimson Rambler 1/27/2014
8. Near Keokuk 1/27/2014
9. Clinton South Of Polk 1/27/2014
10. Swirl 1/27/2014
11. Rusty Crimson 1/27/2014
12. Paula 1/27/2014
13. Leather Leggings 1/27/2014
14. Bilbea 1/27/2014
15. The Long Shadow of Lincoln: A Litany 6/19/2015
16. Timesweep 6/22/2015
17. Killers 2/1/2016
18. Sandpipers -new- 6/18/2016
19. Carlovingian Dreams 1/27/2014
20. Do You Want Affidavits? 1/27/2014
21. Calls 1/27/2014
22. Tangibles 1/27/2014
23. Streets Too Old 1/27/2014
24. Potomac Town In February 1/27/2014
25. Mammy Hums 1/27/2014
26. Blue Maroons 1/27/2014
27. Five Towns On The B. & O. 1/27/2014
28. Stripes 1/27/2014
29. Panels 1/27/2014
30. Sandhill People 1/27/2014
31. Real Estate News 1/27/2014
32. Three Violins 1/27/2014
33. The Plowboy 1/27/2014
34. Pick Offs 1/27/2014
35. Pigeon 1/27/2014
36. Ossawatomie 1/27/2014
37. Mohammed Bek Hadjetlache 1/27/2014
38. Loin Cloth 1/27/2014
39. Cahoots 1/21/2014
40. The Windy City [sections 1 and 6] 2/20/2016
Best Poem of Carl Sandburg

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Read the full of Fog

Silver Nails

A man was crucified. He came to the city a stranger,
was accused, and nailed to a cross. He lingered hanging.
Laughed at the crowd. "The nails are iron," he
said, "You are cheap. In my country when we crucify
we use silver nails. . ." So he went jeering. They
did not understand him at first. Later they talked about
him in changed voices in the saloons, bowling alleys, and
churches. It came over them every man is crucified
only once in his life and the law of humanity dictates

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