Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

441. Aprons Of Silence 1/3/2003
442. Happiness 1/3/2003
443. Child Moon 1/3/2003
444. Primer Lesson 1/3/2003
445. Hope Is A Tattered Flag 1/3/2003
446. Who Am I? 1/3/2003
447. Grass 1/3/2003
448. All Day Long 1/3/2003
449. Dreams In The Dusk 1/3/2003
450. Autumn Movement 1/4/2003
451. At A Window 1/3/2003
452. Among The Red Guns 1/3/2003
453. Honky Tonk In Cleveland, Ohio 1/3/2003
454. A Father To His Son 4/2/2010
455. Arithmetic 1/3/2003
456. Chicago 1/3/2003
457. Fog 1/3/2003

Comments about Carl Sandburg

  • Raymond Farrell (12/3/2015 6:33:00 AM)

    It is a pity that the academic elite these days do not hold Carl Sandburg in very high esteem compared to Stevens or Elliot or even John Ashbury in instances.

    34 person liked.
    23 person did not like.
  • Barry Gross (3/2/2012 3:15:00 PM)

    When I listen to a politician trumpet proud words
    I wonder, if hidden by the lectern, are
    polished wingtips or long, hard boots.

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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

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

Aprons Of Silence

Many things I might have said today.
And I kept my mouth shut.
So many times I was asked
To come and say the same things
Everybody was saying, no end
To the yes-yes, yes-yes,
me-too, me-too.

The aprons of silence covered me.

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