Chicago Poems
A Poetry, 20th Century, Classics book. Passers-byPassers-by,Out of your many facesFlash memories to meNow at the...
Chicago Poems (1916) was Carl Sandburg's first published book of verse. Written in the poet's unique, personal idiom, these poems embody a soulfulness, lyric grace and a love of and compassion for the common man that earned Sandburg a reputation as a "poet of the people."Among the dozens of poems in this collection are such well-known verses as "Chicago," "Fog," "To a Contemporary Bunkshooter," "Who Am I?" and "Under the Harvest Moon," as well as numerous others on themes of...
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- Filetype: PDF
- Pages: 88 pages
- ISBN: 9780486280578 / 486280578
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More About Chicago Poems
I cannot tell you now;When the wind's drive and whirlBlow me along no longer,And the wind's a whisper at last -Maybe I'll tell you thensome other time. Carl Sandburg, Chicago Poems Passers-byPassers-by,Out of your many facesFlash memories to meNow at the day endAway from the sidewalksWhere your shoe soles traveledAnd your voices rose and blentTo form the citys afternoon roarHindering an old silence.Passers-by,I remember lean ones among you,Throats in the clutch of a hope,Lips written over with strivings,Mouths that kiss only for love,Records of great wishes slept with,Held longAnd prayed and toiled for:Yes,Written onYour mouthsAnd your throatsI read themWhen you passed by. Carl Sandburg, Chicago Poems Give me hunger, pain and want,Shut me out with shame and failureFrom your doors of gold and fame,Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!But leave me a little love. Carl Sandburg, Chicago Poems
A short collection of poems about Chicago, immigration, war, and a plethora of random topics. Some of these poems feel like walking into a room while Sandburg is in the middle of a monologue, and I have no clue what hes going on about, but hes very into it and some of the lines make the sides of my mouth turn up - either pretending... I thought I liked Sandburg. I read Maybe many years ago and it seemed funny, witty and different. And short, by all means. (Not in this volume)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 can tell.I will lay my head on his shoulderAnd... Poetry fans
