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").

Personality

Musings of a Police Reporter in the Identification BureauYou have loved forty women, but you have only one thumb.You have led a hundred secret lives..

© Carl Sandburg

People With Proud Chins

I TELL them where the wind comes from,Where the music goes when the fiddle is in the box.Kids-I saw one with a proud chin, a sleepyhead,And the..

© Carl Sandburg

People Who Must

I painted on the roof of a skyscraper.I painted a long while and called it a day's work.The people on the corner swarmed and the traffic cop's..

© Carl Sandburg

Pennsylvania

I have been in Pennsylvania,In the Monongahela and Hocking Valleys.In the blue SusquehannaOn a Saturday morningI saw a mounted constabulary go by,I..

© Carl Sandburg

Pencils

telling where the wind comes fromopen a story.Pencilstelling where the wind goesend a story.These eager pencilscome to a stop.. only.. when the stars..

© Carl Sandburg

Pearl Fog

Open the door now.Go roll up the collar of your coatTo walk in the changing scarf of mist.Tell your sins here to the pearl fogAnd know for once a..

© Carl Sandburg

Peach Blossoms

WHAT cry of peach blossomslet loose on the air todayI heard with my face thrownin the pink-white of it all?in the red whisper of it all?What man I..

© Carl Sandburg

Paula

NOTHING else in this song-only your face.Nothing else here-only your drinking, night-gray eyes.The pier runs into the lake straight as a rifle..

© Carl Sandburg

Passers-By

Passers-by,Out of your many facesFlash memories to meNow at the day endAway from the sidewalksWhere your shoe soles traveledAnd your voices rose and..

© Carl Sandburg

Panels

THE WEST window is a panel of marching onions.Five new lilacs nod to the wind and fence boards.The rain dry fence boards, the stained knot holes..

© Carl Sandburg

Pals

Take a hold nowOn the silver handles here,Six silver handles,One for each of his old pals.Take holdAnd lift him down the stairs,Put him on the..

© Carl Sandburg

Palladiums

IN the newspaper office-who are the spooks?Who wears the mythic coat invisible?Who ****foots from desk to deskwith a speaking forefinger?Who gumshoes..

© Carl Sandburg

Out Of White Lips

OUT of white lips a question: Shall seven million dead ask for their blood a littleland for the living wives and children, a little land for the..

© Carl Sandburg

Our Prayer Of Thanks

For the gladness here where the sun is shining at evening on the weeds at theriver,Our prayer of thanks.For the laughter of children who tumble..

© Carl Sandburg

Ossawatomie

I DON'T know how he came,shambling, dark, and strong.He stood in the city and told men:My people are fools, my people are young and strong, my people..

© Carl Sandburg

Onion Days

Mrs. Gabrielle Giovannitti comes along Peoria Streetevery morning at nine o'clockWith kindling wood piled on top of her head, her eyeslooking..

© Carl Sandburg

On The Way

Little one, you have been buzzing in the books,Flittering in the newspapers and drinking beer with lawyersAnd amid the educated men of the clubs you..

© Carl Sandburg

On The Breakwater

On the breakwater in the summer dark, a man and a girl are sitting,She across his knee and they are looking face into faceTalking to each other..

© Carl Sandburg

Omaha

Red barns and red heiffers spot the greengrass circles around Omaha--the farmershaul tanks of cream and wagon-loads ofcheese.Shale hogbacks across..

© Carl Sandburg

Old-Fashioned Requited Love

I HAVE ransacked the encyclopediasAnd slid my fingers among topics and titlesLooking for you.And the answer comes slow.There seems to be no answer.I..

© Carl Sandburg

Old Woman

The owl-car clatters along, dogged by the echoFrom building and battered paving-stone.The headlight scoffs at the mist,And fixes its yellow rays in..

© Carl Sandburg

Old Timers

I am an ancient reluctant conscript.On the soup wagons of Xerxes I was a cleaner of pans.On the march of Miltiades' phalanx I had a haft and head;I..

© Carl Sandburg

Old Osawatomie

JOHN BROWN'S body under the morning stars.Six feet of dust under the morning stars.And a panorama of war performs itselfOver the six-foot stage of..

© Carl Sandburg

Offering And Rebuff

I could love youas dry roots love rain.I could hold youas branches in the windbrandish petals.Forgive me for speaking so soon.Let your heart lookon..

© Carl Sandburg

North Atlantic

WHEN the sea is everywherefrom horizon to horizon ..when the salt and bluefill a circle of horizons ..I swear again how I knowthe sea is older than..

© Carl Sandburg