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").
Neighbors
On Forty-first Streetnear Eighth Avenuea frame house wobbles.If houses went on crutchesthis house would beone of the cripples.A sign on the..
© Carl Sandburg
Near Keokuk
THIRTY-TWO Greeks are dipping their feet in a creek.Sloshing their bare feet in a cool flow of clear water.All one midsummer day ten hours the..
© Carl Sandburg
My People
MY people are gray,pigeon gray, dawn gray, storm gray.I call them beautiful,and I wonder where they are going.
© Carl Sandburg
Murmurings In A Field Hospital
[They picked him up in the grass where he had lain twodays in the rain with a piece of shrapnel in his lungs.]Come to me only with playthings now. ...
© Carl Sandburg
Muckers
Twenty men stand watching the muckers.Stabbing the sides of the ditchWhere clay gleams yellow,Driving the blades of their shovelsDeeper and deeper..
© Carl Sandburg
Moonset
LEAVES of poplars pick Japanese prints against the west.Moon sand on the canal doubles the changing pictures.The moon's good-by ends pictures.The..
© Carl Sandburg
Monotone
The monotone of the rain is beautiful,And the sudden rise and slow relapseOf the long multitudinous rain.The sun on the hills is beautiful,Or a..
© Carl Sandburg
Monosyllabic
Let me be monosyllabic to-day, O Lord.Yesterday I loosed a snarl of words on a fool, on a child.To-day, let me be monosyllabic . . . . a crony of old..
© Carl Sandburg
Momus
Momus is the name men give your face,The brag of its tone, like a long low steamboat whistleFinding a way mid mist on a shoreland,Where gray rocks..
© Carl Sandburg
Mohammed Bek Hadjetlache
THIS Mohammedan colonel from the Caucasus yells with his voice and wigwagswith his arms.The interpreter translates, 'I was a friend of Kornilov, he..
© Carl Sandburg
Mist Forms
THE SHEETS of night mist travel a long valley.I know why you came at sundown in a scarf mist.What was it we touched asking nothing and asking all?How..
© Carl Sandburg
Mill-Doors
You never come back.I say good-by when I see you going in the doors,The hopeless open doors that call and waitAnd take you then for—how many cents a..
© Carl Sandburg
Memoranda
THIS handful of grass, brown, says little. This quarter mile field of it, wavingseeds ripening in the sun, is a lake of luminous firefly..
© Carl Sandburg
Memoir Of A Proud Boy
HE lived on the wings of storm.The ashes are in Chihuahua.Out of Ludlow and coal towns in ColoradoSprang a vengeance of Slav miners, Italians, Scots..
© Carl Sandburg
Medallion
The brass medallion profile of your face I keep always.It is not jingling with loose change in my pockets.It is not stuck up in a show place on the..
© Carl Sandburg
Maybe
Maybe he believes me, maybe not.Maybe I can marry him, maybe not.Maybe the wind on the prairie,The wind on the sea, maybe,Somebody, somewhere, maybe..
© Carl Sandburg
Masses
Among the mountains I wandered and saw blue haze and red crag and wasamazed;On the beach where the long push under the endless tide maneuvers, I..
© Carl Sandburg
Mask
Fling your red scarf faster and faster, dancer.It is summer and the sun loves a million green leaves, masses of green.Your red scarf flashes across..
© Carl Sandburg
Mascots
I WILL keep you and bring hands to hold you against a great hunger.I will run a spear in you for a great gladness to die with.I will stab you between..
© Carl Sandburg
Margaret
Many birds and the beating of wingsMake a flinging reckless humIn the early morning at the rocksAbove the blue poolWhere the gray shadows swim..
© Carl Sandburg
Manufactured Gods
THEY put up big wooden gods.Then they burned the big wooden godsAnd put up brass gods andChanging their minds suddenlyKnocked down the brass gods and..
© Carl Sandburg
Manual System
Mary has a thingamajig clamped on her earsAnd sits all day taking plugs out and sticking plugs in.Flashes and flashes--voies and voicescalling for..
© Carl Sandburg
Manitoba Childe Roland
LAST night a January wind was ripping at the shinglesover our house and whistling a wolf song under theeaves.I sat in a leather rocker and read to a..
© Carl Sandburg
Man, The Man-Hunter
I SAW Man, the man-hunter,Hunting with a torch in one handAnd a kerosene can in the other,Hunting with guns, ropes, shackles.I listenedAnd the high..
© Carl Sandburg
Mamie
MAMIE beat her head against the bars of a little Indianatown and dreamed of romance and big things offsomewhere the way the railroad trains all..
© Carl Sandburg