#AmericanWriters
And must the Senator from Illinoi… Be this squat thing, with blinking… This brazen gutter idol, reared to… Upon a leering pyramid of lies? And must the Senator from Illinoi…
What is my mast? A pen. What are my sails? Ten crescent m… What is my sea? A bottle of ink. Where do I go? To heaven again. What do I eat? The amaranth flowe…
The moon is now an opening flower, The sky a cliff of blue. The moon is now a silver rose; Her pollen is the dew. Her pollen is the mist that swings
[During an anti-saloon campaign… In the midst of the battle I turn… (For the thunders could flourish w… And hid by a rose-hung wall, Forgetting the murder about me;
[A Poem for Aviators] How the Wings Were Made From many morning-glories That in an hour will fade, From many pansy buds
(Note:—Pocahontas is buried at… “Pocahontas’ body, lovely as a pop… CARL SANDBURG. Powhatan was conqueror, Powhatan was emperor.
Oh, once I walked in Heaven, all… Upon the sacred cliffs above the s… God and the angels, and the gleami… Had journeyed out into the stars t… They had gone forth to win far cit…
Lady of Light, and our best woman… Stand now for peace, (though anger… Though naught but smoke and flame… Lady of Light, speak, though you… Though your voice may seem as a do…
A curse upon each king who leads h… No matter what his plea, to this f… And may it end his wicked dynasty, And may he die in exile and black… If there is vengeance in the Heav…
Incense and Splendor haunt me as… Though my good works have been, al… Though I do naught, High Heaven… And future ages pass in tall revie… I see the years to come as armies…
Would I might rouse the Lincoln i… That which is gendered in the wild… From lonely prairies and God’s te… Imperial soul, star of a weedy str… Born where the ghosts of buffaloes…
Too soon you wearied of our tears. And then you danced with spangled… Leading Belshazzar’s chattering c… A-tinkling through the shadowy str… With mead they came, with chants o…
The foolish queen of fairyland From her milk-white throne in a li… Gave command to her cricket-band To play for her when the dew-drops… But the cold dew spoiled their ins…
A POEM DEDICATED T… Galahad . . . soldier that perishe… Our hearts are breaking with shame… Galahad . . . knight who perished… Teach us to fight for immaculate w…
Oh, once I walked a garden In dreams. ’Twas yellow grass. And many orange-trees grew there In sand as white as glass. The curving, wide wall-border