Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

41. Joliet 1/27/2014
42. Portrait 1/27/2014
43. Telegram 1/27/2014
44. Long Guns 1/27/2014
45. Jerry 1/27/2014
46. Shagbark Hickory 1/27/2014
47. How Yesterday Looked 1/27/2014
48. Pods 1/27/2014
49. House 1/27/2014
50. Jack London And O. Henry 1/27/2014
51. The South Wind Say So 1/27/2014
52. Memoir Of A Proud Boy 1/27/2014
53. Potato Blossom Songs And Jigs 1/27/2014
54. Red-Headed Restaurant Cashier 1/27/2014
55. Brass Keys 1/27/2014
56. Fire-Logs 1/27/2014
57. They Buy With An Eye To Looks 1/27/2014
58. Chords 1/27/2014
59. Blue Ridge 1/27/2014
60. Tawny 1/27/2014
61. Buckwheat 1/27/2014
62. Questionnaire 1/27/2014
63. Memoranda 1/27/2014
64. In The Shadow Of The Palace 1/27/2014
65. Laughing Blue Steel 1/27/2014
66. Crimson Changes People 1/27/2014
67. Prayers After World War 1/27/2014
68. Legends 1/27/2014
69. Never Born 1/27/2014
70. Clean Hands 1/27/2014
71. Whiffletree 1/27/2014
72. Shenandoah 1/27/2014
73. Two Items 1/27/2014
74. Jug 1/27/2014
75. Sand Scribblings 1/27/2014
76. Crapshooters 1/27/2014
77. Remorse 1/27/2014
78. Put Off The Wedding Five Times And Nobody Comes To It 1/27/2014
79. Potomac River Mist 1/27/2014
80. Trinity Place 1/27/2014

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'...

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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

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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