Carl Sandburg Poems

  • 301.  
    HAVE I told any man to be a liar for my sake?
    Have I sold ice to the poor in summer and coal to the poor in winter for the sake of daughters who nursed brindle bull terriers and led with a leash their dogs clothed in plaid wool jackets?Have I given any man an earful too much of my talk-or asked any man to take a snootful of booze on my account?
  • 302.  
    ONE by one lights of a skyscraper fling their checkering cross work on the velvet gown of night.
    I believe the skyscraper loves night as a woman and brings her playthings she asks for, brings her a velvet gown,And loves the white of her shoulders hidden under the dark feel of it all.
  • 303.  
    Let the crows go by hawking their caw and caw.
    They have been swimming in midnights of coal mines somewhere. Let 'em hawk their caw and caw.
  • 304.  
    LONG ago I learned how to sleep,
    In an old apple orchard where the wind swept by counting its money and throwing it away,In a wind-gaunt orchard where the limbs forked out and listened or never listened at all,
  • 305.  
    PIETRO has twenty red and blue balloons on a string.
    They flutter and dance pulling Pietro's arm.A nickel apiece is what they sell for.
  • 306.  
    THE HAGGARD woman with a hacking cough and a deathless love whispers of white
    flowers ... in your poem you pour like a cup of coffee, Gabriel.
  • 307.  
    Lincoln?
    He was a mystery in smoke and flagsSaying yes to the smoke, yes to the flags,
  • 308.  
    All the policemen, saloonkeepers and efficiency experts in Toledo
    knew Bern Dailey; secretary ten years when Whitlock was mayor.Pickpockets, yeggs, three card men, he knew them all and how they flit
  • 309.  
    In Abraham Lincoln's city,
    Where they remember his lawyer's shingle,The place where they brought him
  • 310.  
    Nancy Hanks dreams by the fire;
    Dreams, and the logs sputter,And the yellow tongues climb.
  • 311.  
    When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs,
    he forgot the copperheads and the assassin… in the dust, in the cool tombs.
  • 312.  
    Your eyes and the valley are memories.
    Your eyes fire and the valley a bowl.It was here a moonrise crept over the timberline.
  • 313.  
    In the loam we sleep,
    In the cool moist loam,To the lull of years that pass
  • 314.  
    I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

  • 315.  
    The sea is never still.
    It pounds on the shoreRestless as a young heart,
  • 316.  
    The working girls in the morning are going to work-
    long lines of them afoot amid the downtown stores and factories, thousands with little brick-shaped
  • 317.  
    Night from a railroad car window
    Is a great, dark, soft thingBroken across with slashes of light.
  • 318.  
    My head knocks against the stars.
    My feet are on the hilltops.My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
  • 319.  
    Your whitelight flashes the frost to-night
    Moon of the purple and silent west.Remember me one of your lovers of dreams.
  • 320.  
    Your white shoulders
    I rememberAnd your shrug of laughter.
  • 321.  
    In the old wars drum of hoofs and the beat of shod feet.
    In the new wars hum of motors and the tread of rubber tires.In the wars to come silent wheels and whirr of rods not
  • 322.  
    Today I will let the old boat stand
    Where the sweep of the harbor tide comes inTo the pulse of a far, deep-steady sway.
  • 323.  
    Wonder as of old things
    Fresh and fair come backHangs over pasture and road.
  • 324.  
    Under the harvest moon,
    When the soft silverDrips shimmering
  • 325.  
    I am a copper wire slung in the air,
    Slim against the sun I make not even a clear line of shadow.Night and day I keep singing-humming and thrumming:
  • 326.  
    While the hum and the hurry
    Of passing footfallsBeat in my ear like the restless surf
  • 327.  
    I

  • 328.  
    Faces of two eternities keep looking at me.
    One is Omar Khayam and the red stuff wherein men forget yesterday and to-morrow
  • 329.  
    Memory of you is… a blue spear of flower.
    I cannot remember the name of it.Alongside a bold dripping poppy is fire and silk.
  • 330.  
    Yellow dust on a bumble
    bee's wing,Grey lights in a woman's
  • 331.  
    Among the shadows where two streets cross,
    A woman lurks in the dark and waitsTo move on when a policeman heaves in view.
  • 332.  
    Undertakers, hearse drivers, grave diggers,
    I speak to you as one not afraid of your business.
  • 333.  
    Riding against the east,
    A veering, steady shadowPurrs the motor-call
  • 334.  
    Over the dead line we have called to you
    To come across with a word to us,Some beaten whisper of what happens
  • 335.  
    You come along… tearing your shirt… yelling about Jesus.
    Where do you get that stuff? What do you know about Jesus?
  • 336.  
    Of my city the worst that men will ever say is this:
    You took little children away from the sun and the dew,And the glimmers that played in the grass under the great sky,
  • 337.  
    I spot the hills
    With yellow balls in autumn.I light the prairie cornfields
  • 338.  
    Legs hold a torso away from the earth.
    And a regular high poem of legs is here.Powers of bone and cord raise a belly and lungs
  • 339.  
    On the street
    Slung on his shoulder is a handle half way across,Tied in a big knot on the scoop of cast iron
  • 340.  
    I shall foot it
    Down the roadway in the dusk,Where shapes of hunger wander
  • 341.  
    To Certain Poets About to Die

  • 342.  
    I love your faces I saw the many years
    I drank your milk and filled my mouthWith your home talk, slept in your house
  • 343.  
    I am the mist, the impalpable mist,
    Back of the thing you seek.My arms are long,
  • 344.  
    I am glad God saw Death
    And gave Death a job taking care of all who are tired of living:
  • 345.  
    A stone face higher than six horses stood five thousand
    years gazing at the world seeming to clutch a secret.A boy passes and throws a niggerhead that chips off the
  • 346.  
    Passing through huddled and ugly walls
    By doorways where womenLooked from their hunger-deep eyes,
  • 347.  
    I cannot tell you now;
    When the wind's drive and whirl Blow me along no longer,
  • 348.  
    You have spoken the answer.
    A child searches far sometimesInto the red dust
  • 349.  
    Into the blue river hills
    The red sun runners goAnd the long sand changes
  • 350.  
    Down between the walls of shadow
    Where the iron laws insist, The hunger voices mock.
Total 464 poems written by Carl Sandburg

Poem of the day

Charles Hamilton Sorley Poem
Expectans Expectavi
 by Charles Hamilton Sorley

From morn to midnight, all day through,
I laugh and play as others do,
I sin and chatter, just the same
As others with a different name.

And all year long upon the stage
I dance and tumble and do rage
So vehemently, I scarcely see
...

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