Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

1. Kreisler 1/27/2014
2. Mascots 1/27/2014
3. Palladiums 1/27/2014
4. Plaster 1/27/2014
5. Testimony Regarding A Ghost 1/27/2014
6. Corn Hut Talk 1/27/2014
7. Spanish 1/27/2014
8. Crimson Rambler 1/27/2014
9. Near Keokuk 1/27/2014
10. Clinton South Of Polk 1/27/2014
11. Swirl 1/27/2014
12. Rusty Crimson 1/27/2014
13. Paula 1/27/2014
14. Leather Leggings 1/27/2014
15. Bilbea 1/27/2014
16. The Long Shadow of Lincoln: A Litany 6/19/2015
17. Timesweep 6/22/2015
18. Killers 2/1/2016
19. The Windy City [sections 1 and 6] 2/20/2016
20. Sandpipers 6/18/2016
21. Do You Want Affidavits? 1/27/2014
22. Carlovingian Dreams 1/27/2014
23. Calls 1/27/2014
24. Tangibles 1/27/2014
25. Streets Too Old 1/27/2014
26. Potomac Town In February 1/27/2014
27. Mammy Hums 1/27/2014
28. Five Towns On The B. & O. 1/27/2014
29. Blue Maroons 1/27/2014
30. Sandhill People 1/27/2014
31. Stripes 1/27/2014
32. Panels 1/27/2014
33. Real Estate News 1/27/2014
34. The Plowboy 1/27/2014
35. Ossawatomie 1/27/2014
36. Three Violins 1/27/2014
37. Pick Offs 1/27/2014
38. Pigeon 1/27/2014
39. Mohammed Bek Hadjetlache 1/27/2014
40. Loin Cloth 1/27/2014
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

Silver Nails

A man was crucified. He came to the city a stranger,
was accused, and nailed to a cross. He lingered hanging.
Laughed at the crowd. "The nails are iron," he
said, "You are cheap. In my country when we crucify
we use silver nails. . ." So he went jeering. They
did not understand him at first. Later they talked about
him in changed voices in the saloons, bowling alleys, and
churches. It came over them every man is crucified
only once in his life and the law of humanity dictates

[Report Error]