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").
Curtain
the final curtain on one of the longest runningmusicals ever, some people claim to haveseen it over one hundred times.I saw it on the tv news, that..
© Charles Bukowski
Death Wants More Death
death wants more death, and its webs are full:I remember my father's garage, how child-likeI would brush the corpses of fliesfrom the windows they..
© Charles Bukowski
Finish
We are like roses that have never bothered tobloom when we should have bloomed andit is as ifthe sun has become disgusted withwaiting
© Charles Bukowski
Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame
some dogs who sleep At nightmust dream of bonesand I remember your bonesin fleshand bestin that dark green dressand those high-heeled brightblack..
© Charles Bukowski
Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window
Sunday, I am eating agrapefruit, church is over at the RussianOrthadox to thewest.she is darkof Eastern descent,large brown eyes look up from the..
© Charles Bukowski
Cows In Art Class
good weatheris likegood women-it doesn't always happenand when it doesit doesn'talways last.man ismore stable:if he's badthere's more chancehe'll..
© Charles Bukowski
Raw With Love
little dark girl withkind eyeswhen it comes time touse the knifeI won't flinch andI won't blameyou,as I drive along the shore aloneas the palms..
© Charles Bukowski
2 Flies
The flies are angry bits of life;why are they so angry?it seems they want more,it seems almost as if theyare angrythat they are flies;it is not my..
© Charles Bukowski
To The Whore Who Took My Poems
some say we should keep personal remorse from thepoem,stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,but jezus;twelve poems gone and I don't keep..
© Charles Bukowski
Close To Greatness
at one stage in my lifeI met a man who claimed to havevisited Pound at St. Elizabeths.then I met a woman who not onlyclaimed to have visitedE.P.but..
© Charles Bukowski
Big Night On The Town
drunk on the dark streets of some city,it's night, you're lost, where's yourroom?you enter a bar to find yourself,order scotch and water.damned bar's..
© Charles Bukowski
40,000
at the track today,Father's Day,each paid admission wasentitled to a walletand each contained alittle surprise.most of the men seemedbetween 30 and..
© Charles Bukowski
Consummation Of Grief
I even hear the mountainsthe way they laughup and down their blue sidesand down in the waterthe fish cryand the wateris their tears.I listen to the..
© Charles Bukowski
Carson Mccullers
she died of alcoholismwrapped in a blanketon a deck chairon an oceansteamer.all her books ofterrified lonelinessall her books aboutthe crueltyof..
© Charles Bukowski
Back To The Machine Gun
I awaken about noon and go out to get the mailin my old torn bathrobe.I'm hung overhair down in my eyesbarefootgingerly walking on the small sharp..
© Charles Bukowski
What A Sick Woman Does
ACONVALESCIN' woman does the strangest sort o' things,An' it's wonderful the courage that a little new strength brings;O, it's never safe to leave..
© Edgar Albert Guest
At Dawn
They come to my room at the break of the day,With their faces all smiles and their minds full of play;They come on their tip-toes and silently..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Old Days
WHEN I was but a little tad I used to hear my dear old dadTell friends about the good old days forever gone from him;My dear old kindly gran'dad..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Roses, Birds And Some Men
The world is full of roses, blooming red for me I and you,They smile a morning welcome and are wet with heavenly dew,And every oak and maple, and..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Little Woman
The little woman, to her I bowAnd doff my hat as I pass her by;I reverence the furrows that mark her brow,And the sparkling love light in her eye.The..
© Edgar Albert Guest
The Gift Of Play
Some have the gift of song and some possess the gift of silver speech,Some have the gift of leadership and some the ways of life can teach.And fame..
© Edgar Albert Guest
What Home's Intended For
When the young folks gather 'round in the good old-fashioned way,Singin' all the latest songs gathered from the newest play,Or they start the..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Copy Paper
I START the day with paper white,And put it in my old machine,And wonder whether, as I writeThe night will find my copy clean.Will this day's..
© Edgar Albert Guest
Mother's Party Dress
'Some day,' says Ma, 'I'm goin' to getA party dress all trimmed with jet,An' hire a seamstress in, an' sheIs goin' to fit it right on me;An' then..
© Edgar Albert Guest