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").
Having The Flu And With Nothing Else To Do
I read a book about John Dos Passos and according tothe book once radical-communistJohn ended up in the Hollywood Hills living off investmentsand..
© Charles Bukowski
Sway With Me
sway with me, everything sad -madmen in stone houseswithout doors,lepers steaming love and songfrogs trying to figurethe sky;sway with me, sad things..
© Charles Bukowski
I Made A Mistake
I reached up into the top of the closetand took out a pair of blue pantiesand showed them to her andasked 'are these yours? 'and she looked and..
© Charles Bukowski
The Aliens
you may not believe itbut there are peoplewho go through life withvery littlefriction ordistress.they dress well, eatwell, sleep well.they are..
© Charles Bukowski
Whats The Use Of A Title?
They don't make itthe beautiful die in flame-suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-ever...they rip their arms off,throw themselves out of windows,they..
© Charles Bukowski
Nirvana
not much chance,completely cut loose frompurpose,he was a young manriding a busthrough North Carolinaon the wat to somewhereand it began to snowand..
© Charles Bukowski
I'm In Love
she's young, she said,but look at me,I have pretty ankles,and look at my wrists, I have prettywristso my god,I thought it was all working,and now..
© Charles Bukowski
We Ain'T Got No Money, Honey, But We Got Rain
call it the greenhouse effect or whateverbut it just doesn't rain like it used to.I particularly remember the rains of thedepression era.there wasn't..
© Charles Bukowski
Cut While Shaving
It's never quite right, he said, the way people look,the way the music sounds, the way the words arewritten.It's never quite right, he said, all the..
© Charles Bukowski
How Is Your Heart?
during my worst timeson the park benchesin the jailsor living withwhoresI always had this certaincontentment-I wouldn't call ithappiness-it was more..
© Charles Bukowski
Flophouse
you haven't liveduntil you've been in aflophousewith nothing but onelight bulband 56 mensqueezed togetheron cotswith everybodysnoringat onceand some..
© Charles Bukowski
Decline
naked along the side of the house,8 a.m., spreading sesame seed oilover my body, Jesus, have I cometo this?I once battled in dark alleys for..
© Charles Bukowski
About My Very Tortured Friend, Peter
he lives in a house with a swimming pooland says the job iskilling him.he is 27. I am 44. I can’t seem toget rid ofhim. his novels keep comingback...
© Charles Bukowski
Freedom
he drank wine all night of the28th, and he kept thinking of her:the way she walked and talked and lovedthe way she told him things that seemed..
© Charles Bukowski
For Jane: With All The Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough:
I pick up the skirt,I pick up the sparkling beadsin black,this thing that moved oncearound flesh,and I call God a liar,I say anything that movedlike..
© Charles Bukowski
Oh Yes
there are worse things thanbeing alonebut it often takes decadesto realize thisand most oftenwhen you doit's too lateand there's nothing worsethantoo..
© Charles Bukowski
I Met A Genius
I met a genius on the traintodayabout 6 years old,he sat beside meand as the trainran down along the coastwe came to the oceanand then he looked at..
© Charles Bukowski
Pull A String, A Puppet Moves
each man must realizethat it can all disappear veryquickly:the cat, the woman, the job,the front tire,the bed, the walls, theroom; all our..
© Charles Bukowski
16-Bit Intel 8088 Chip
with an Apple Macintoshyou can't run Radio Shack programsin its disc drive.nor can a Commodore 64drive read a fileyou have created on anIBM Personal..
© Charles Bukowski
8 Count
from my bedI watch3 birdson a telephonewire.one fliesoff.thenanother.one is left,thenit toois gone.my typewriter istombstonestill.and I amreduced to..
© Charles Bukowski
Friends Within The Darkness
I can remember starving in asmall room in a strange cityshades pulled down, listening toclassical musicI was young I was so young it hurt like a..
© Charles Bukowski
For Jane
225 days under grassand you know more than I.they have long taken your blood,you are a dry stick in a basket.is this how it works?in this roomthe..
© Charles Bukowski
Yes Yes
when God created love he didn't help mostwhen God created dogs He didn't help dogswhen God created plants that was averagewhen God created hate we..
© Charles Bukowski
Eat Your Heart Out
I've come by, she says, to tell youthat this is it. I'm not kidding, it'sover. this is it.I sit on the couch watching her arrangeher long red hair..
© Charles Bukowski