some people simply need to
be unhappy, they'll scrounge it out
of any given situation
taking every opportunity
to point it out
every simply error
or oversight
and then become
hateful
dissatisfied
vengeful.
don't they realize that
there's so little
time
for each of us
in this strange
life to make things
whole?
and to squander
our lives living
like that
is nearly
unforgivable?
and that
there's never
ever
any way
then
to recover
all that which will be
thus lost
forever?
Charles Bukowski - The Flash of Lightning Behind the Mountain
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
October 13, 2012
August 6, 2012
May 1, 2012
Parts of an Opera, Parts of a Guitar, Part of Nowhere
and someday I'm going to give up
drinking and smoking and whoring
and kneel and pray in the Sunday sunshine
while they are killing the beautiful bulls
and selling their ears and tails in
Tiajuana, and I'm going to the opera,
I'm going to the opera and have 12 guys
working for me for
80 dollars a week, including half-days on
Saturdays and no
hangovers on
Monday.
drinking and smoking and whoring
and kneel and pray in the Sunday sunshine
while they are killing the beautiful bulls
and selling their ears and tails in
Tiajuana, and I'm going to the opera,
I'm going to the opera and have 12 guys
working for me for
80 dollars a week, including half-days on
Saturdays and no
hangovers on
Monday.
Charles Bukowski - The Roominghouse Madrigals
April 24, 2012
Carson McCullers
she died of alcoholism
wrapped in a blanket
on a deck chair
on an ocean
steamer.
all her books of
terrified loneliness
all her books about
the cruelty
of loveless love
were all that was left
of her
as the strolling vacationer
discovered her body
notified the captain
and she was quickly dispatched
to somewhere else
on the ship
as everything
continued just
as
she had written it
Source: http://bukwoski.net
wrapped in a blanket
on a deck chair
on an ocean
steamer.
all her books of
terrified loneliness
all her books about
the cruelty
of loveless love
were all that was left
of her
as the strolling vacationer
discovered her body
notified the captain
and she was quickly dispatched
to somewhere else
on the ship
as everything
continued just
as
she had written it
Charles Bukowski
Source: http://bukwoski.net
April 23, 2012
Seahorse
I own the ticks on a horse
I own his belly and balls
I own this
the way his eyes roll
the way he eats hay
and shits and
stands up asleep
he is mine
this machine
like a blue train I used to play with
when my hands were smaller
and my mind better
I own this horse,
someday I will ride my horse
down all the streets
past the trees we will go
up the mountain
down the valley
ticks and eyes and balls
the both of us
we will go where kings eat
dandelions
in the giant sea
where thinking is not terror
where eyes do not go out
like Saturday night children
the horse I own and the myself I own
will become blue and nice and clean
again
and I will get off and wait for you.
I own his belly and balls
I own this
the way his eyes roll
the way he eats hay
and shits and
stands up asleep
he is mine
this machine
like a blue train I used to play with
when my hands were smaller
and my mind better
I own this horse,
someday I will ride my horse
down all the streets
past the trees we will go
up the mountain
down the valley
ticks and eyes and balls
the both of us
we will go where kings eat
dandelions
in the giant sea
where thinking is not terror
where eyes do not go out
like Saturday night children
the horse I own and the myself I own
will become blue and nice and clean
again
and I will get off and wait for you.
Charles Bukowski - The Roominghouse Madrigals
April 3, 2012
January 3, 2012
Nobody But You
nobody can save you but
yourself
and you're worth saving.
it's a war not easily won
but if anything is worth winning then
this is it.
think about it.
think about saving your self.
your spiritual self.
your gut self.
your singing magical self and
your beautiful self.
save it.
don't join the dead-in-spirit.
maintain your self
with humor and grace
and finally
if necessary
wager your life as you struggle,
damn the odds, damn
the price
only you can save your
self.
do it! do it!
then you'll know exactly what
I am talking about.
Source: Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way
yourself
and you're worth saving.
it's a war not easily won
but if anything is worth winning then
this is it.
think about it.
think about saving your self.
your spiritual self.
your gut self.
your singing magical self and
your beautiful self.
save it.
don't join the dead-in-spirit.
maintain your self
with humor and grace
and finally
if necessary
wager your life as you struggle,
damn the odds, damn
the price
only you can save your
self.
do it! do it!
then you'll know exactly what
I am talking about.
Charles Bukowski
Source: Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way
December 27, 2011
The Longest Snake In The World
I punched on the radio, punched
in the lighter.
the lighter jumped out and I put it
to my cigarette.
there was a red light ahead.
I stopped.
there were 4 cars ahead of me
and a couple
behind.
and thankfully none of them knew a damned
thing about what had happened to
me and they never
would.
Charles Bukowski
Source: Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way
December 14, 2011
Work-Fuck Problems
the way to create art is to burn and destroy
ordinary concepts and to substitute them
with new truths that run down from the top of the head
and out from the heart.
creation is like anything else good:
you have to wait on it; ambition has killed more
artists that indolence.
I am not infection with ambition
I am quite content;
sitting across from the horse barn at
3 p.m. in the afternoon
I wait for Art to create me.
Charles Bukowski
Source: Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way
About Competition
the higher you climb
the greater the pressure
those who manage to
endure
learn
that the distance
between the
top and the
bottom
is
obscenely
great.
and those who
succeed
know
this secret:
there isn't
one.
Charles Bukowski
Source: Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way
December 5, 2011
out of the sickroom and into the white blazing sun
hey, you're not dead, youre
doing good, damned good again,
what's this talk about tossing it
in?
what you were doing while you
were feeling sick enough
to die,
what you were really doing was just re-
charging your
batteries.
now let everybody get
out of the way,
you're thundering
down the track again
like a locomotive
hauling 90 thousand
unwritten poems
and they're all
yours
and you're pounding along
the rails
sometimes through dark tunnels
but then roaring out again
into the
light!
who the hell said that
you no longer had it in
you?
it was you who said that.
the engineer.
who is now
feeling the fresh surge of
hope and
power
and who is
grinning madly at the
thought of this
wonderful
new
day.
Charles Bukowski
Source: Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way
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