Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Just Before April Came
THE SNOW piles in dark places are gone.Pools by the railroad tracks shine clear.The gravel of all shallow places shines.A white pigeon reels and..
© Carl Sandburg
Jungheimer's
In western fields of corn and northern timber lands,They talk about me, a saloon with a soul,The soft red lights, the long curving bar,The leather..
© Carl Sandburg
June
Paula is digging and shaping the loam of a salvia,Scarlet Chinese talker of summer.Two petals of crabapple blossom blow fallen in Paula'shair,And..
© Carl Sandburg
Jug
THE SHALE and water thrown together so-so first of all,Then a potter's hand on the wheel and his fingers shaping the jug; out of themud a mouth and a..
© Carl Sandburg
Joy
Let a joy keep you.Reach out your handsAnd take it when it runs by,As the Apache dancerClutches his woman.I have seen themLive long and laugh..
© Carl Sandburg
Joliet
ON the one hand the steel works.On the other hand the penitentiary.Sante Fe trains and Alton trainsBetween smokestacks on the westAnd gray walls on..
© Carl Sandburg
John Ericsson Day Memorial, 1918
INTO the gulf and the pit of the dark night, the cold night, there is a man goesinto the dark and the cold and when he comes back to his people he..
© Carl Sandburg
Jerry
Six years I worked in a knitting mill at a machineAnd then I married Jerry, the iceman, for a change.He weighed 240 pounds, and could hold me,Who..
© Carl Sandburg
Jazz Fantasia
Drum on your drums, batter on your banjoes,sob on the long cool winding saxophones.Go to it, O jazzmen.Sling your knuckles on the bottoms of the..
© Carl Sandburg
Jaws
Seven nations stood with their hands on the jaws of death.It was the first week in August, Nineteen Hundred Fourteen.I was listening, you were..
© Carl Sandburg
Jan Kubelik
Your bow swept over a string, and a long low note quivered to the air.(A mother of Bohemia sobs over a new child perfect learning to suck milk.)Your..
© Carl Sandburg
Jack London And O. Henry
BOTH were jailbirds; no speechmakers at all; speaking best with one foot on abrass rail; a beer glass in the left hand and the right hand employed..
© Carl Sandburg
Jack
Jack was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.He worked thirty years on the railroad, ten hours a day, and his hands weretougher than sole leather.He..
© Carl Sandburg
Jabberers
I RISE out of my depths with my language.You rise out of your depths with your language.Two tongues from the depths,Alike only as a yellow cat and a..
© Carl Sandburg
Iron
Guns,Long, steel guns,Pointed from the war shipsIn the name of the war god.Straight, shining, polished guns,Clambered over with jackies in white..
© Carl Sandburg
Interior
In the cool of the night timeThe clocks pick off the pointsAnd the mainsprings loosen.They will need winding.One of these daysthey will need..
© Carl Sandburg
In The Shadow Of The Palace
LET us go out of the fog, John, out of the filmy persistent drizzle on the streets ofStockholm, let us put down the collars of our raincoats, take..
© Carl Sandburg
In Tall Grass
BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull inthe tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters.And..
© Carl Sandburg
In A Breath
To the Williamson BrothersHigh noon. White sun flashes on the Michigan Avenueasphalt. Drum of hoofs and whirr of motors.Women trapsing along in..
© Carl Sandburg
In A Back Alley
Remembrance for a great man is this.The newsies are pitching pennies.And on the copper disk is the man’s face.Dead lover of boys, what do you ask for..
© Carl Sandburg
Improved Farm Land
Tall timber stood here once, hee on a corn belt farm along the Monon.Here the roots of a half-mile of trees dug their runners deep in the loam for..
© Carl Sandburg
Illinois Farmer
BURY this old Illinois farmer with respect.He slept the Illinois nights of his life after days of work in Illinois cornfields.Now he goes on a long..
© Carl Sandburg
Ice Handler
I know an ice handler who wears a flannel shirt with pearl buttons the size of adollar,And he lugs a hundred-pound hunk into a saloon ice-box, helps..
© Carl Sandburg
I Sang
I sang to you and the moonBut only the moon remembers.I sangO reckless free-heartedfree-throated rythms,Even the moon remembers themAnd is kind to me.
© Carl Sandburg
I Am The People, The Mob
I Am the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass.Do you know that all the great work of the world isdone through me?I am the workingman, the inventor..
© Carl Sandburg