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").

Africa

The sun sought thy dim bed and brought forth light,The sciences were sucklings at thy breast;When all the world was young in pregnant nightThy slaves..

© Claude McKay

I Shall Return

I shall return again; I shall returnTo laugh and love and watch with wonder-eyesAt golden noon the forest fires burn,Wafting their blue-black smoke..

© Claude McKay

A Memory Of June

When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,And mating thrushes ushering in her day,And Earth on tiptoe..

© Claude McKay

Flame-Heart

So much have I forgotten in ten years,So much in ten brief years! I have forgotWhat time the purple apples come to juice,And what month brings the..

© Claude McKay

Birds Of Prey

Their shadow dims the sunshine of our day,As they go lumbering across the sky,Squawking in joy of feeling safe on high,Beating their heavy wings of..

© Claude McKay

Courage

O lonely heart so timid of approach,Like the shy tropic flower that shuts its lipsTo the faint touch of tender finger tips:What is your word? What..

© Claude McKay

Enslaved

Oh when I think of my long-suffering race,For weary centuries despised, oppressed,Enslaved and lynched, denied a human placeIn the great life line of..

© Claude McKay

America

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,Stealing my breath of life, I will confessI love this cultured..

© Claude McKay

If We Must Die

If we must die, let it not be like hogsHunted and penned in an inglorious spot,While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,Making their mock at our..

© Claude McKay

A 340 Dollar Horse And A Hundred Dollar Whore

don’t ever get the idea I am a poet; you can see meat the racetrack any day half drunkbetting quarters, sidewheelers and straight thoroughs,but let..

© Charles Bukowski

Beasts Bounding Through Time

Van Gogh writing his brother for paintsHemingway testing his shotgunCeline going broke as a doctor of medicinethe impossibility of being humanVillon..

© Charles Bukowski

For The Foxes

Don't feel sorry for me.I am a competent,satisfied human being.be sorry for the otherswhofidgetcomplainwhoconstantlyrearrange..

© Charles Bukowski

The Great Escape

listen, he said, you ever seen a bunch of crabs in abucket?no, I told him.well, what happens is that now and then one crabwill climb up on top of the..

© Charles Bukowski

My Cats

I know. I know.they are limited, have differentneeds andconcerns.but I watch and learn from them.I like the little they know,which is somuch.they..

© Charles Bukowski

No help for that

There is a place in the heart thatwill never be filleda spaceand even during thebest momentsandthe greatest timestimeswe will know itwe will know..

© Charles Bukowski

On The Fire Suicides Of The Buddhists

'They only burn themselves to reach Paradise'- Mne. Nhuoriginal courage is good,motivation be damned,and if you say they are trainedto feel no..

© Charles Bukowski

Trollius And Trellises

of course, I may die in the next ten minutesand I’m ready for thatbut what I’m really worried about isthat my editor-publisher might retireeven..

© Charles Bukowski

The Trash Men

here they comethese guysgrey truckradio playingthey are in a hurryit’s quite exciting:shirt openbellies hanging outthey run out the trash binsroll..

© Charles Bukowski

The Last Days Of The Suicide Kid

I can see myself nowafter all these suicide days and nights,being wheeled out of one of those sterile rest homes(of course, this is only if I get..

© Charles Bukowski

Hell Is A Lonely Place

he was 65, his wife was 66, hadAlzheimer's disease.he had cancer of themouth.there wereoperations, radiationtreatmentswhich decayed the bones in..

© Charles Bukowski

I Am Visited By An Editor And A Poet

I had just won $115 from the headshakers andwas naked upon my bedlistening to an opera by one of the Italiansand had just gotten rid of a very loose..

© Charles Bukowski

The Japanese Wife

O lord, he said, Japanese women,real women, they have not forgotten,bowing and smilingclosing the wounds men have made;but American women will kill..

© Charles Bukowski

German

being the German kid in the 20's in Los Angeleswas difficult.there was much anti-German feeling then,a carry-over from World War 1.gangs of kids..

© Charles Bukowski

Goading The Muse

this man used to be aninteresting writer,he was able to say brisk andrefreshing things.at the timeI suggested to the editors andthe critics that he..

© Charles Bukowski

Gas

my grandmother had a serious gasproblem.we only saw her on Sunday.she'd sit down to dinnerand she'd have gas.she was very heavy,80 years old.wore..

© Charles Bukowski