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The Complete Poems
The definitive edition of the Pulitzer Prize-winning collection. “A marvelous prosody, a perfect ear for the beautiful potentials of common speech, something he learned from folk song, but mostly he learned from just listening� (Kenneth Rexroth).
832 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1950
30 people are currently reading
1623 people want to read
About the author
Carl Sandburg
729Ìýbooks329ÌýfollowersFree verse poems of known American writer Carl August Sandburg celebrated American people, geography, and industry; alongside his six-volume biography
Abraham Lincoln
(1926-1939), his collections of poetry include
Smoke and Steel
(1920).
This best editor won Pulitzer Prizes. Henry Louis Mencken called Carl Sandburg "indubitably an American in every pulse-beat."
This best editor won Pulitzer Prizes. Henry Louis Mencken called Carl Sandburg "indubitably an American in every pulse-beat."
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 32 reviews
May 22, 2010
Can you really write a review for the entire output of one poet? Carl Sandburg represents America of the first half of the 20th century - industry, landscape, society - trust me, it is all in here. I tend to enjoy the smaller poems about weather or relationships, like "The Great Hunt," "Valley Song," "Offering and Rebuff" more than the longer poems about a place or event. Completely worth the time it takes to read through. I wanted to do that before visiting his house in Flat Rock, NC, which isn't far from where I live. Check!
May 9, 2007
What do you really need to know? America at its finest.
Valley Song
Your eyes and the valley are memories.
Your eyes fire and the valley a bowl.
It was here a moonrise crept over the timberline.
It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down.
And your eyes and the moon swept the valley.
I will see you again to-morrow.
I will see you again in a million years.
I will never know your dark eyes again.
These are three ghosts I keep.
These are three sumach-red dogs I run with.
All of it wraps and knots to a riddle:
I have the moon, the timberline, and you.
All three are gone � and I keep all three.
Valley Song
Your eyes and the valley are memories.
Your eyes fire and the valley a bowl.
It was here a moonrise crept over the timberline.
It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down.
And your eyes and the moon swept the valley.
I will see you again to-morrow.
I will see you again in a million years.
I will never know your dark eyes again.
These are three ghosts I keep.
These are three sumach-red dogs I run with.
All of it wraps and knots to a riddle:
I have the moon, the timberline, and you.
All three are gone � and I keep all three.
Want to read
September 2, 2015
August 15, 2021
I started reading this collection in January 2018 when my first child was not yet one year old... I finished it tonight, 3.5 years later, when my third child is not yet one. I've enjoyed my time with Sandburg and am honestly a little sad to be putting him back on the shelf, at least for a time.
On the whole, I liked Sandburg's work. Like all poets, some volumes and poems were better than others. But he had a relentless consistency about several things: his love for Chicago, his passion for the city, his contentment in the Midwestern countryside and farms (the space, the land, the skies, the changing seasons, the opportunity it all presented). But above all was his love of the People - his eye for seeing them and finding the words to convey just "that one thing" that would make a reader feel like he knew the person being described, the joy and wonder in the ordinary and average folks, his admiration of the working man, his disdain for the powerful and corrupt, his pursuit to describe Humanity by describing the individual. Absolutely beautiful. I haven't enjoyed a poet's perspective (especially as seen in "The People, Yes" - my favorite volume within this complete collected works) on people so much since reading Masters' "Spoon River Anthology."
This volume left me with several memorable lines as well, recorded here for my own memory's sake:
If the Big houses with little families
And the little houses with big families
Sneer at each other's bars of misunderstanding;
Pity us when we shackle and kill each other
And believe at first we understand
And later say we wonder why.
-"The Windy City" from Slabs of the Sunburnt West
Leave something to wish for.
-49 from The People, Yes
...the people must laugh or go down.
...
The people laugh, yes, the people laugh.
They have to in order to live and survive...
-62 from The People, Yes (the entire section is great)
The Mexicans give a toast:
salud pesetas tiempo para gastarse son,
health, money, time, what are they for but spending?
-64 from The People, Yes
The rich own the land and the poor own the water.
The rich get richer and poor get children.
The rich have baby napkins, the poor have diapers.
The big houses have small families and the small houses big families.
Why did Death take the poor man's cow and the rich man's child?
-64 from The People, Yes
...
He tells men there are a thousand writhing shattering deaths
Better to die one by one than to say yes yes yes
When the answer is no no no and death is welcome and death comes soon
And death is a quiet step into a sweet clean midnight.
"The Man With the Broken Fingers" from New Section
When images come test them by trial and error: let them vanish should they choose exits.
"Many Handles" from New Section
Every day is the last day.
I have waited for tomorrow
And it has never come.
"The Wind on the Way" from New Section
There are people who have never been anywhere
and they are less anxious about it than those
who have been everywhere.
"Anywhere and Everywhere People" from New Section
...
bought love is a guaranteed imitation.
"Honey and Salt" from 1950-1967
...Blessed are they who expect nothing for
they shall not be disappointed
"Lief the Lucky" from 1950-1967
On the whole, I liked Sandburg's work. Like all poets, some volumes and poems were better than others. But he had a relentless consistency about several things: his love for Chicago, his passion for the city, his contentment in the Midwestern countryside and farms (the space, the land, the skies, the changing seasons, the opportunity it all presented). But above all was his love of the People - his eye for seeing them and finding the words to convey just "that one thing" that would make a reader feel like he knew the person being described, the joy and wonder in the ordinary and average folks, his admiration of the working man, his disdain for the powerful and corrupt, his pursuit to describe Humanity by describing the individual. Absolutely beautiful. I haven't enjoyed a poet's perspective (especially as seen in "The People, Yes" - my favorite volume within this complete collected works) on people so much since reading Masters' "Spoon River Anthology."
This volume left me with several memorable lines as well, recorded here for my own memory's sake:
If the Big houses with little families
And the little houses with big families
Sneer at each other's bars of misunderstanding;
Pity us when we shackle and kill each other
And believe at first we understand
And later say we wonder why.
-"The Windy City" from Slabs of the Sunburnt West
Leave something to wish for.
-49 from The People, Yes
...the people must laugh or go down.
...
The people laugh, yes, the people laugh.
They have to in order to live and survive...
-62 from The People, Yes (the entire section is great)
The Mexicans give a toast:
salud pesetas tiempo para gastarse son,
health, money, time, what are they for but spending?
-64 from The People, Yes
The rich own the land and the poor own the water.
The rich get richer and poor get children.
The rich have baby napkins, the poor have diapers.
The big houses have small families and the small houses big families.
Why did Death take the poor man's cow and the rich man's child?
-64 from The People, Yes
...
He tells men there are a thousand writhing shattering deaths
Better to die one by one than to say yes yes yes
When the answer is no no no and death is welcome and death comes soon
And death is a quiet step into a sweet clean midnight.
"The Man With the Broken Fingers" from New Section
When images come test them by trial and error: let them vanish should they choose exits.
"Many Handles" from New Section
Every day is the last day.
I have waited for tomorrow
And it has never come.
"The Wind on the Way" from New Section
There are people who have never been anywhere
and they are less anxious about it than those
who have been everywhere.
"Anywhere and Everywhere People" from New Section
...
bought love is a guaranteed imitation.
"Honey and Salt" from 1950-1967
...Blessed are they who expect nothing for
they shall not be disappointed
"Lief the Lucky" from 1950-1967
November 21, 2013
832 pages of Sandburg! Can you imagine anything worse? What? The Collected Poems of Southey runs to 2288 pages? Oh. Well, then, I concede that less of bad thing is better than more of a bad thing.
May 6, 2020
My standard poetry review goes something like this:
It was poetry and I'm not qualified to judge poetry. I loved some of it, hated some of it, most was just, meh. But this is Sandburg and he deserves a better effort. One would not give such a review to Whitman nor Eliot nor Dickinson, nor Longfellow and Frost, and, most certainly, not to Poe.
Just as music is the artistic expression of mathematics, so poetry is comprised of the music of words. Poetry is meant to be heard, if only in the reader's own mind. But without voice, poetry loses meaning. Without meaning, poetry loses voice.
But there was so MUCH poetry in this work, almost 800 pages of it, maybe that voice was lost in sheer volume. Sandburg is a master poet; I doubt many would disagree. Some of the offerings surprised me -- lists of wise sayings one after the other -- lists foreign students make trying to understand the vagaries of American colloquial language. But nothing made them poetry. Nothing seemed to connect the elements of the lists. But there were only a few of these.
Much of the poetry was warm and fun and comfortable and has a voice that spoke to the heart of a generation, the one of my grandparents and parents. Forest Gump, the film, was warm and fun and comfortable and has a voice that spoke to the heart of a generation, mine. Forest Gump got his Oscar and Sandburg his Pulitzer.
Some of the poems were delightfully funny, so funny I read them aloud to my husband. A few had imagery so magical I read them aloud to myself. Some clearly evoked a sense of the history of the time at which the poem was written.
Yet, reading became drudgery. With only 70 pages left, I had to force myself just to read even 4 pages at a time. But 70 pages from the end I couldn't bring myself to just stop and leave the volume unfinished -- not 70 out of almost 800 pages. But it was the caronavirus novel pandemic of 2020 that enabled me to finish the tome. Not because I got sick but because the libraries closed and I got to keep the book for an additional 2 months and I needed 6 weeks of those added 2 months to finish. But finish I did!
It was poetry and I'm not qualified to judge poetry. I loved some of it, hated some of it, most was just, meh. But this is Sandburg and he deserves a better effort. One would not give such a review to Whitman nor Eliot nor Dickinson, nor Longfellow and Frost, and, most certainly, not to Poe.
Just as music is the artistic expression of mathematics, so poetry is comprised of the music of words. Poetry is meant to be heard, if only in the reader's own mind. But without voice, poetry loses meaning. Without meaning, poetry loses voice.
But there was so MUCH poetry in this work, almost 800 pages of it, maybe that voice was lost in sheer volume. Sandburg is a master poet; I doubt many would disagree. Some of the offerings surprised me -- lists of wise sayings one after the other -- lists foreign students make trying to understand the vagaries of American colloquial language. But nothing made them poetry. Nothing seemed to connect the elements of the lists. But there were only a few of these.
Much of the poetry was warm and fun and comfortable and has a voice that spoke to the heart of a generation, the one of my grandparents and parents. Forest Gump, the film, was warm and fun and comfortable and has a voice that spoke to the heart of a generation, mine. Forest Gump got his Oscar and Sandburg his Pulitzer.
Some of the poems were delightfully funny, so funny I read them aloud to my husband. A few had imagery so magical I read them aloud to myself. Some clearly evoked a sense of the history of the time at which the poem was written.
Yet, reading became drudgery. With only 70 pages left, I had to force myself just to read even 4 pages at a time. But 70 pages from the end I couldn't bring myself to just stop and leave the volume unfinished -- not 70 out of almost 800 pages. But it was the caronavirus novel pandemic of 2020 that enabled me to finish the tome. Not because I got sick but because the libraries closed and I got to keep the book for an additional 2 months and I needed 6 weeks of those added 2 months to finish. But finish I did!
December 14, 2014
Sandburg is the child of Whitman. Topically and formally, Sandburg mimics the poems of Walt Whitman. In all but the Whitman’s mystic swirlings � and prodigious lengths � Sandburg is his progeny.
Sandburg, though, is not his equal. There is a charm and diversity, an empathy and a boldness that Whitman has, but Sandburg lacks. And Whitman was more diverse than his well-known Leaves of Grass prophecies.
Sandburg wrote some memorable poems in including the much-anthologized Chicago and Fog. The first section, Chicago Poems, could easily be viewed as one continuing poem like Leaves of Grass. And there are gems throughout this set, particularly in the sections titled War Poems and the portraits of poverty in Shadows.
But Sandburg lacks something � perhaps the bold sweep and bravado of Whitman. Sandburg’s poems are episodic and quiet. They seem to end when I feel they should push on and raise the language and the stakes of the poem. Some people praise the non-rhetorical plainness of them, but while a strength in the short term, overall it weakens his work and they end up lacking that memorable quality.
But I have much admiration for Sandburg. He is a social and a political poet. He is writing poetry from the street with an critical edge. He is aware of the world around him, the people around him. He’s not continually musing on the art of poetry and what can or can't be known. One has no doubt of the time and place in which he writes. His voice is meant to be spoken in public � on the street corner � not read in a darkened bedroom alone.
For that reason, I’ll continue to read Sandburg. While many poets are better craftsmen, Sandburg actually has something to say in a world that needs things said.
I recommend this book to poetry lovers and to those of a left-leaning mind who don’t like frilly poetry.
Sandburg, though, is not his equal. There is a charm and diversity, an empathy and a boldness that Whitman has, but Sandburg lacks. And Whitman was more diverse than his well-known Leaves of Grass prophecies.
Sandburg wrote some memorable poems in including the much-anthologized Chicago and Fog. The first section, Chicago Poems, could easily be viewed as one continuing poem like Leaves of Grass. And there are gems throughout this set, particularly in the sections titled War Poems and the portraits of poverty in Shadows.
But Sandburg lacks something � perhaps the bold sweep and bravado of Whitman. Sandburg’s poems are episodic and quiet. They seem to end when I feel they should push on and raise the language and the stakes of the poem. Some people praise the non-rhetorical plainness of them, but while a strength in the short term, overall it weakens his work and they end up lacking that memorable quality.
But I have much admiration for Sandburg. He is a social and a political poet. He is writing poetry from the street with an critical edge. He is aware of the world around him, the people around him. He’s not continually musing on the art of poetry and what can or can't be known. One has no doubt of the time and place in which he writes. His voice is meant to be spoken in public � on the street corner � not read in a darkened bedroom alone.
For that reason, I’ll continue to read Sandburg. While many poets are better craftsmen, Sandburg actually has something to say in a world that needs things said.
I recommend this book to poetry lovers and to those of a left-leaning mind who don’t like frilly poetry.
July 30, 2018
He made words play, sigh, banter and fuss, no one else sounds like Sandburg.
March 20, 2024
American poet Carl Sandburg had a fascinating life. Born in Illinois, in 1878, to immigrant parents, he dropped out of school at age thirteen to work and support his family. At nineteen, he took a train west and worked as a laborer. Then he enlisted in the U.S. Army as a private in the Spanish-American War. After the war, he attended college, though he did not graduate. Nonetheless, he was already writing poetry and even publishing some of his works.
Next, he worked as a traveling salesman and then a party organizer for the Social Democrats. And finally, he performed a variety of jobs in the newspaper industry as a journalist, reporter, war correspondent, movie critic, and columnist.
But it was his wife, Lilian Steichen, who encouraged him to write more poetry -- and seriously. In his lifetime, he had produced over 1600 poems, writing in free verse about social ills, the human spirit, cultures, adventures, the American nation, heroes, corruption, obstacles, nature, and obviously much more.
In 1964, he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Lyndon Johnson. And, of course, he was given awards and prizes for his poetry, as well. But he won a Pulitzer Prize for his historical biography of Abraham Lincoln, which I am interested in reading, if I make time for it, particularly because I own it -- yay!!
Following are the suggested poems I read for The Well-Educated Mind Poetry list:
Chicago
Cool Tombs
Elizabeth Umpstead
Fog
Grass
I am the People, the Mob
Nocturne in a Desert Brickyard
The People, Yes
Planked Whitefish
Skyscraper
Smoke and Steel
Window
Some of these I found clever and intriguing, but I was not as inspired or moved like I was with Robert Frost or Paul Laurence Dunbar. The poems by Sandburg were more political or socialist in thought or difficult topics in general, not warm and fuzzy or pleasant. Many of the aforementioned poems were odd and left me speechless in a empty way. I did not have anything to say about them on GoodReads. I read them and said, "Ooookaaay." Then I moved on.
But I understand he wrote directly from his personal experiences and observations, and these were things that needed to be said in his time. So, he spoke them in prose.
Next, he worked as a traveling salesman and then a party organizer for the Social Democrats. And finally, he performed a variety of jobs in the newspaper industry as a journalist, reporter, war correspondent, movie critic, and columnist.
But it was his wife, Lilian Steichen, who encouraged him to write more poetry -- and seriously. In his lifetime, he had produced over 1600 poems, writing in free verse about social ills, the human spirit, cultures, adventures, the American nation, heroes, corruption, obstacles, nature, and obviously much more.
In 1964, he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Lyndon Johnson. And, of course, he was given awards and prizes for his poetry, as well. But he won a Pulitzer Prize for his historical biography of Abraham Lincoln, which I am interested in reading, if I make time for it, particularly because I own it -- yay!!
Following are the suggested poems I read for The Well-Educated Mind Poetry list:
Chicago
Cool Tombs
Elizabeth Umpstead
Fog
Grass
I am the People, the Mob
Nocturne in a Desert Brickyard
The People, Yes
Planked Whitefish
Skyscraper
Smoke and Steel
Window
Some of these I found clever and intriguing, but I was not as inspired or moved like I was with Robert Frost or Paul Laurence Dunbar. The poems by Sandburg were more political or socialist in thought or difficult topics in general, not warm and fuzzy or pleasant. Many of the aforementioned poems were odd and left me speechless in a empty way. I did not have anything to say about them on GoodReads. I read them and said, "Ooookaaay." Then I moved on.
But I understand he wrote directly from his personal experiences and observations, and these were things that needed to be said in his time. So, he spoke them in prose.
May 16, 2021
Sandburg was rightfully regarded as "a major figure in contemporary literature� during his lifetime, especially for his Collected Poems, which earned him a Pulitzer Prize in 1951. Sandburg had a particular genius for noticing the details of the everyday lives of common folk, creating vivid images of Americans at work in the Chicago Poems (1916), Cornhuskers (1918), and Smoke and Steel (1920). There has been no greater champion for the worker and the working poor, no fiercer critic of capitalism and its exploitation of labor, and no more eloquent chronicler of the ravages of industrialization and urbanization on the working class than Sandburg.
Favorite poems:
CHICAGO POEMS
“C³ó¾±³¦²¹²µ´Çâ€�
â€ÂÙ°ì²â²õ³¦°ù²¹±è±ð°ùâ€�
“F´Ç²µâ€�
“W²¹¾±³Ù¾±²Ô²µâ€�
“From the Shore�
“P±ô´Ç·É²ú´Ç²ââ€�
“Under a Telephone Pole�
“I Am the People, the Mob�
CORNHUSKERS
“P°ù²¹¾±°ù¾±±ðâ€�
“L´Ç³¦²¹±ô¾±³Ù¾±±ð²õâ€�
“Caboose Thoughts�
“W¾±±ô»å±ð°ù²Ô±ð²õ²õâ€�
“Chicago Poet�
“Southern Pacific�
“C±ô´Ç³¦°ì²õâ€�
“H³Ü³¾»å°ù³Ü³¾â€�
“New Fleet�
“John Ericsson Day Memorial, 1919�
“The Four Brothers�
SMOKE AND STEEL
“Smoke and Steel�
“Clinton South of Polk�
“The Hangman at Home�
“The Sins of Kalamazoo�
“Jazz Fantasia�
“L´Ç²õ±ð°ù²õâ€�
“T³ó°ù±ð±ð²õâ€�
“Clean Hands�
“J³Ü²µâ€�
“How Much?�
“White Ash�
“New Farm Tractor�
“Night’s Nothing Again� (wow!)
“F¾±²Ô¾±²õ³óâ€�
SLABS OF THE SUNBURNT WEST
“The Windy City�
“And So Today�
“Ambassadors of Grief�
“Improved Farmland�
GOOD MORNING, AMERICA
“Tentative (First Model Definitions of Poetry) (wowza!)
THE PEOPLE, YES
Favorite poems:
CHICAGO POEMS
“C³ó¾±³¦²¹²µ´Çâ€�
â€ÂÙ°ì²â²õ³¦°ù²¹±è±ð°ùâ€�
“F´Ç²µâ€�
“W²¹¾±³Ù¾±²Ô²µâ€�
“From the Shore�
“P±ô´Ç·É²ú´Ç²ââ€�
“Under a Telephone Pole�
“I Am the People, the Mob�
CORNHUSKERS
“P°ù²¹¾±°ù¾±±ðâ€�
“L´Ç³¦²¹±ô¾±³Ù¾±±ð²õâ€�
“Caboose Thoughts�
“W¾±±ô»å±ð°ù²Ô±ð²õ²õâ€�
“Chicago Poet�
“Southern Pacific�
“C±ô´Ç³¦°ì²õâ€�
“H³Ü³¾»å°ù³Ü³¾â€�
“New Fleet�
“John Ericsson Day Memorial, 1919�
“The Four Brothers�
SMOKE AND STEEL
“Smoke and Steel�
“Clinton South of Polk�
“The Hangman at Home�
“The Sins of Kalamazoo�
“Jazz Fantasia�
“L´Ç²õ±ð°ù²õâ€�
“T³ó°ù±ð±ð²õâ€�
“Clean Hands�
“J³Ü²µâ€�
“How Much?�
“White Ash�
“New Farm Tractor�
“Night’s Nothing Again� (wow!)
“F¾±²Ô¾±²õ³óâ€�
SLABS OF THE SUNBURNT WEST
“The Windy City�
“And So Today�
“Ambassadors of Grief�
“Improved Farmland�
GOOD MORNING, AMERICA
“Tentative (First Model Definitions of Poetry) (wowza!)
THE PEOPLE, YES
April 4, 2023
Sandburg won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1950. He won 3 Pulitzers. This book includes “Chicago Poems (1916)�, “Cornhuskers (1918�, “Smoked Steel (1920�, “Slabs of the Sunburnt West (1922)�, “Good Morning America (1928)�, and “The People Yes (1936). They are free-verse poems that portrayed industrial America. This book also contains 4 unpublished poems about Lincoln. It also includes a comprehensive discussion about Sandburg’s life and beliefs that influenced his work. It still resonates today. This is a great book of poetry by a poet who had a great understanding on American life.
January 14, 2019
I enjoy Sandburg's gritter city poems a bit more than his country farm poems, all of them quickly get to the soul of humanity. Often I have to stop and remember that some of these poems were written in the early 19oos and are more modern than some of the poetry students are forced to study in high school. Sandburg's love and respect for the working class shows by not elevating them to poetry, but showing that poetry in something for the everyman.
September 15, 2020
Sandburg's handful of ultra-famous poems have obscured his range, his intelligence, and his modern temper. He wasn't a poet who tried to use his poetry to insist what all poetry should be. He was a democrat (small d) who liked people, thought of women as people (what a concept), and mixed knowledge with experience easily. His poems are a pleasure to read. And they're durable.
Read
June 8, 2022I preferred his short poems. His long poems are not as poetic. His imagery was great near the beginning of his career. Then he liked to focus more on people, in later life, which most people reading his poems like.
April 28, 2022
I wouldn't know where to begin or end with a review of this; it's gobsmacking, it's great. It's perfectly fine. And funny to boot!
October 29, 2022
A master. Written with honesty and grit.
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September 6, 2015There is a wolf in me � fangs pointed for tearing gashes � a red tongue for raw meat � and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me � a silver-gray fox � I sniff and guess � I pick things out of the wind and air � I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers � I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me � a snout and a belly � a machinery for eating and grunting � a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me � I know I came from saltblue water-gates � I scurried with shoals of herring � I blew waterspouts with porpoises � before land was � before the water went down � before Noah � before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me � clambering-clawed � dog-faced � yawping a galoot’s hunger � hairy under the armpits � here are the hawk-eyed hankering men � here are the blond and blue-eyed women � here they hide curled asleep waiting � ready to snarl and kill � ready to sing and give milk � waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird � and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want � and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
There is a fox in me � a silver-gray fox � I sniff and guess � I pick things out of the wind and air � I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers � I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me � a snout and a belly � a machinery for eating and grunting � a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me � I know I came from saltblue water-gates � I scurried with shoals of herring � I blew waterspouts with porpoises � before land was � before the water went down � before Noah � before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me � clambering-clawed � dog-faced � yawping a galoot’s hunger � hairy under the armpits � here are the hawk-eyed hankering men � here are the blond and blue-eyed women � here they hide curled asleep waiting � ready to snarl and kill � ready to sing and give milk � waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird � and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want � and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
August 2, 2007
The only poet I really like. Focuses on the character and lives of the American people and the nation's physical beauty.
My favorite:
Carl Sandburg (1878�1967). Chicago Poems. 1916.
137. 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 is done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons come from me and the Lincolns. They die. And then I send forth more Napoleons and Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me. I forget. The best of me is sucked out and wasted. I forget. Everything but Death comes to me and makes me work and give up what I have. And I forget. 5
Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red drops for history to remember. Then—I forget.
When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the People, use the lessons of yesterday and no longer forget who robbed me last year, who played me for a fool—then there will be no speaker in all the world say the name: “The People,� with any fleck of a sneer in his voice or any far-off smile of derision.
The mob—the crowd—the mass—will arrive then.
My favorite:
Carl Sandburg (1878�1967). Chicago Poems. 1916.
137. 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 is done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons come from me and the Lincolns. They die. And then I send forth more Napoleons and Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me. I forget. The best of me is sucked out and wasted. I forget. Everything but Death comes to me and makes me work and give up what I have. And I forget. 5
Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red drops for history to remember. Then—I forget.
When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the People, use the lessons of yesterday and no longer forget who robbed me last year, who played me for a fool—then there will be no speaker in all the world say the name: “The People,� with any fleck of a sneer in his voice or any far-off smile of derision.
The mob—the crowd—the mass—will arrive then.
September 21, 2019
This won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1951 for which he received $500. The poems are wonderful. My favorite is The People, Yes. It was written about the depression but it applies to all American's in all generations. Sandburg tells of specific events propr to 1952, however, our world reels from terrorist attacks, natural disasters and economic meltdowns. Security and stability are exposed as fragile illusions. Throughout history The People, Yes, The People, show resiliency in human spirit and press on. This is not a book you read and put it on the shelf. You take it down and read it again and again; commit the lines of poems to memory; and it follows you throughout your life.
September 8, 2010
My all-time favorite poet. My copy of this book is old and worn with pages turned down and passages underlined all over the place, but that's just the way I like it. I think it's his midwestern voice that appeals so much to me.
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May 8, 2008811.5
August 9, 2008
I enjoyed the many years of poetry this book offered. It was a long book, so settle down to read this one.
December 2, 2010
working class hero
Currently reading
May 16, 2011LOVE!!
December 27, 2018
I LOVE HIS POEMS!! Very down to earth. Some are pretty funny. I like the way his minds thinks. If you enjoy poetry, you will enjoy this.
October 26, 2012
Didn't finish it but it's a book to keep.
June 1, 2013
Carl Sandburg is a favorite contemporary poet. I wish this book was in two volumes instead of one because it is huge.
June 26, 2018
3 3/4 stars
February 6, 2016
I remember reading this at university and I quite liked it.
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March 31, 2016some magical little wordplay and visuals in here, but a little to nonlinear and ethereal for me, i did not read most of this
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