To A Contemporary (Carl Sandburg Poems)
You come along. . . tearing your shirt. . . yelling about Jesus. Where do you ...
You come along. . . tearing your shirt. . . yelling about Jesus. Where do you ...
A father sees his son nearing manhood.What shall he tell that son?"Life is hard; be steel; be a rock."And this ...
Lincoln?He was a mystery in smoke and flagsSaying yes to the smoke, yes to the flags,Yes to the paradoxes of ...
I WALKED among the streets of an old city and the streets were lean as the throats of hard seafish ...
I GIVE the undertakers permission to haul my body to the graveyard and to lay away all, the head, the ...
MAKE war songs out of these; Make chants that repeat and weave. Make rhythms up to the ragtime chatter of ...
(March, 1919)A LIAR goes in fine clothes. A liar goes in rags. A liar is a liar, clothes or no ...
THE SINS of Kalamazoo are neither scarlet nor crimson. The sins of Kalamazoo are a convict gray, a dishwater drab. ...
THREE tailors of Tooley Street wrote: We, the People. The names are forgotten. It is a joke in ghosts. Cutters ...
YOU come along. . . tearing your shirt. . . yelling about Jesus. Where do you get that stuff? What ...
ELSIE FLIMMERWON, you got a job now with a jazz outfit in vaudeville. The houses go wild when you finish ...
CAST a bronze of my head and legs and put them on the king's street. Set the cast of me ...
WHEN Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs, he forgot the copperheads and the assassin . in the dust, in ...
I DRANK musty ale at the Illinois Athletic Club with the millionaire manufacturer of Green River butter one night And ...
FLANDERS, the name of a place, a country of people, Spells itself with letters, is written in books. "Where is ...
INTO the gulf and the pit of the dark night, the cold night, there is a man goes into the ...
THE SNOW piles in dark places are gone. Pools by the railroad tracks shine clear. The gravel of all shallow ...
Hog Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler; Stormy, husky, ...
I AM riding on a limited express, one of the crack trains of the nation. Hurtling across the prairie into ...
BY day the skyscraper looms in the smoke and sun and has a soul. Prairie and valley, streets of the ...
HE lived on the wings of storm. The ashes are in Chihuahua. Out of Ludlow and coal towns in Colorado ...
I AM the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done ...
MY people are gray, pigeon gray, dawn gray, storm gray. I call them beautiful, and I wonder where they are ...
I SAW a famous man eating soup. I say he was lifting a fat broth Into his mouth with a ...
IN the night, when the sea-winds take the city in their arms, And cool the loud streets that kept their ...
BOX cars run by a mile long. And I wonder what they say to each other When they stop a ...
I DON'T know how he came, shambling, dark, and strong. He stood in the city and told men: My people ...
THE MOUTH of this man is a gaunt strong mouth. The head of this man is a gaunt strong head. ...
I PAINTED on the roof of a skyscraper. I painted a long while and called it a day's work. The ...
(Bergen)SEVEN days all fog, all mist, and the turbines pounding through high seas. I was a plaything, a rat's neck ...
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