Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

441. Carlovingian Dreams 1/27/2014
442. And They Obey 1/3/2003
443. Excerp From The People, Yes 12/23/2014
444. Whiffletree 1/27/2014
445. Dogheads 1/27/2014
446. The Sea Hold 1/10/2015
447. Splinter 1/19/2015
448. Four Preludes On Playthings Of The Wind 1/27/2014
449. Fish Crier 1/3/2003
450. Window 1/13/2003
451. Mamie 1/3/2003
452. The Long Shadow of Lincoln: A Litany 6/19/2015
453. Timesweep 6/22/2015
454. A Teamster's Farewell 1/3/2003
455. Killers 2/1/2016
456. The Windy City [sections 1 and 6] 2/20/2016
457. Sandpipers 6/18/2016

Comments about Carl Sandburg

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  • 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'...

  • 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


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

Noon Hour

She sits in the dust at the walls
And makes cigars,
Bending at the bench
With fingers wage-anxious,
Changing her sweat for the day's pay.

Now the noon hour has come,
And she leans with her bare arms
On the window-sill over the river,

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