Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

401. Lost 1/3/2003
402. Buttons 1/3/2003
403. The Great Hunt 1/3/2003
404. Government 1/3/2003
405. Fire Pages 1/3/2003
406. Prairie Waters By Night 1/3/2003
407. Early Moon 1/27/2014
408. White Shoulders 1/3/2003
409. Child 1/3/2003
410. Wilderness 1/27/2014
411. Death Snips Proud Men 1/1/2004
412. Between Two Hills 1/3/2003
413. A Teamster's Farewell 1/3/2003
414. From The Shore 1/3/2003
415. Who Am I? 1/3/2003
416. Chicago Poet 1/3/2003
417. Wars 1/13/2003
418. Horses And Men In Rain 1/3/2003
419. Skyscraper 1/13/2003
420. To Certain Journeymen 1/13/2003
421. Excerp From The People, Yes 12/23/2014
422. Aprons Of Silence 1/3/2003
423. Accomplished Facts 4/2/2010
424. Sketch 1/13/2003
425. Women Washing Their Hair 4/2/2010
426. Halsted Street Car 1/3/2003
427. Gone 1/3/2003
428. Stars, Songs, Faces 1/3/2003
429. Primer Lesson 1/3/2003
430. Working Girls 1/13/2003
431. Hope Is A Tattered Flag 1/3/2003
432. Window 1/13/2003
433. A Fence 1/3/2003
434. All Day Long 1/3/2003
435. Iron 1/3/2003
436. Evening Waterfall 1/3/2003
437. Joy 1/3/2003
438. Honky Tonk In Cleveland, Ohio 1/3/2003
439. Good Night 1/3/2003
440. Child Moon 1/3/2003

Comments about Carl Sandburg

  • Malkisedik Yahya (9/6/2008 12:01:00 PM)

    i love sandburg's works, especially that use the wor 'moon'..wish me luck b'coz i wanna write my undergraduate thesis about the meaning of sandburg's works that use the word 'moon'...

    177 person liked.
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  • Rosa Jamali (6/1/2008 2:39:00 PM)

    I think postmodern poetry owes Sandburg, as he was the first to describe machinery life, he expanded the range of words in poetry & he tried to add some new concepts, we have to reread Sandburg to go forward...

  • A. Michael Sears (2/13/2006 8:19:00 PM)

    What can I say? Carl Sandburg is truly a master. His ability to celebrate the beauty and greatness in all things common, is unmatched. And since the publication of 'Chicago Poems' in 1916, the voice of modern poetry has never been the same.

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

Dynamiter

I sat with a dynamiter at supper in a German saloon eating steak and onions.
And he laughed and told stories of his wife and children and the cause of labor and the working class.
It was laughter of an unshakable man knowing life to be a rich and red-blooded thing.
Yes, his laugh rang like the call of gray birds filled with a glory of joy ramming their winged flight through a rain storm.
His name was in many newspapers as an enemy of the nation and few keepers of churches or schools woul

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