Shel Silverstein

(September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999 / Chicago/ Illinois)

Shel Silverstein
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As Edwin McDowell reported in the New York Times Book Review (8 Nov 1981), Silverstein "for several years now... has refused interviews and publicity tours, and he even asked his publisher not to give out any biographical information about him." What is known about Silverstein, however, is that he was born in Chicago (Illinois) in 1932, is divorced and has one daughter. Most of what is known about his views and opinions, aside from what may be interpreted from his works, comes from a Publisher's Weekly (24 Feb 1975) interview with Jean F. Mercier. Silverstein discussed the roots of his career in his childhood with Mercier:

"When I was a kid - 12, 14, around there -... more »

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Comments about Shel Silverstein

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  • Leslie (12/2/2018 10:39:00 AM)

    I love your poems I can't stop reading them

  • Jackson (11/28/2018 3:46:00 PM)

    You go Abigail, cCartney I’m A Big Fan of your work please make me a big stuffed worthog for my birthday or Christmas I Am turning 12

  • Micah K. (11/20/2018 1:58:00 PM)

    I know Shel Silverstein passed away quite awhile ago, but I really love his poems and I spend time disliking the people who think it's nice to even comment on his poems because they don't like them. So if you agree and you want this to stop, then like this to show we are a team!

  • nonya (11/19/2018 3:13:00 PM)

    im just liking all of yalls comments because im trying to be nice

  • Jennilee (11/16/2018 12:35:00 PM)

    Abigail McCartney, you do realize that Shel Silverstein passed away awhile ago, right?

  • Jennilee (11/16/2018 12:34:00 PM)

    Abigail McCartney, you do know Shel Silverstein passed away, right?

  • Jennilee (11/16/2018 12:32:00 PM)

    Who is answering for Shel?

  • Balack Ngiger (11/12/2018 10:08:00 AM)

    gay is ok gay is ok

  • edablover (11/12/2018 9:30:00 AM)

    awesome nhuiodfhyr59bjeui0jnyu8e5mjsh8t

  • GIGI NORA FERNANDEZ (11/3/2018 11:54:00 PM)


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Best Poem of Shel Silverstein

Where The Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and ...

Read the full of Where The Sidewalk Ends
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