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").
Luck
oncewe were youngat thismachine...drinkingsmokingtypingit was a mostsplendidmiraculoustimestillisonly nowinstead ofmoving towardtimeitmoves..
© Charles Bukowski
Here I Am ...
drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottleof wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages ofpoesyan old manmaddened for the flesh of young..
© Charles Bukowski
Poem For My 43rd Birthday
To end up alonein a tomb of a roomwithout cigarettesor wine--just a lightbulband a potbelly,grayhaired,and glad to havethe room.
© Charles Bukowski
Question And Answer
he sat naked and drunk in a room of summernight, running the blade of the knifeunder his fingernails, smiling, thinkingof all the letters he had..
© Charles Bukowski
Splash
the illusion is that you are simplyreading this poem.the reality is that this ismore than apoem.this is a beggar's knife.this is a tulip.this is a..
© Charles Bukowski
My Friend, The Parking Lot Attendant
—he's a dandy—small moustache—usually sucking on a cigarhe tends to lean into cars as hetransacts businessfirst time I met him, he said,"hey! ya..
© Charles Bukowski
What A Writer
what i liked about e.e. cummingswas that he cut away fromthe holiness of thewordand with charmand gamblegave us linesthat sliced through thedung.how..
© Charles Bukowski
My Computer
"what?" they say, "you got acomputer?"it's like I have sold out tothe enemy.I had no idea so manypeople were prejudicedagainstcomputers.even two..
© Charles Bukowski
Paris
nevereven in calmer timeshave I everdreamed ofbicycling through thatcitywearing aberetandCamusalwayspissedmeoff.
© Charles Bukowski
It Was Just A Little While Ago
almost dawnblackbirds on the telephone wirewaitingas I eat yesterday'sforgotten sandwichat 6 a.m.an a quiet Sunday morning.one shoe in the..
© Charles Bukowski
Finished?
the critics now have medrinking champagne anddriving a BMWand also married to asocialite fromPhiladelphia's Main Linewhich of course is going to..
© Charles Bukowski
The Lucky Ones
stuck in the rain on the freeway, 6:15 p.m.,these are the lucky ones, these are thedutifully employed, most with their radios on as loudas possible..
© Charles Bukowski
Working Out
Van Gogh cut off his eargave it to aprostitutewho flung it away inextremedisgust.
© Charles Bukowski
Hello, How Are You?
this fear of being what they are:dead.at least they are not out on the street, theyare careful to stay indoors, thosepasty mad who sit alone before..
© Charles Bukowski
Gamblers All
sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think,I'm not going to make it, but you laugh insideremembering all the times you've felt that..
© Charles Bukowski
So Now?
the words have come and gone,I sit ill.the phone rings, the cats sleep.Linda vacuums.I am waiting to live,waiting to die.I wish I could ring in some..
© Charles Bukowski
Poetry Reading
poetry readings have to be some of the saddestdamned things ever,the gathering of the clansmen and clanladies,week after week, month after month..
© Charles Bukowski
It's Ours
there is always that space therejust before they get to usthat spacethat fine relaxerthe breatherwhile sayflopping on a bedthinking of nothingor..
© Charles Bukowski
Poetry
ittakesa lot ofdesperationdissatisfactionanddisillusiontowriteafewgoodpoems.it's notforeverybodyeither towriteitor even toreadit
© Charles Bukowski
Trapped
don't undress my loveyou might find a mannequin:don't undress the mannequinyou might findmy love.
© Charles Bukowski
Shoes
when you're younga pair offemalehigh-heeled shoesjust sittingalonein the closetcan fire yourbones;when you're oldit's justa pair of..
© Charles Bukowski
I Like Your Books
In the betting line the otherdayman behind me asked,"are you HenryChinaski?""uh huh," I answered."I like your books," he wenton."thanks," I..
© Charles Bukowski
Jane Icin (For Jane - In Turkish)
cimen altinda gecen 225 gunden sonra benden daha cok sey biliyor olmalisin.kanini emip bitireli epey oldu, artik bir sepetteki kuru bir cubuksun.bu..
© Charles Bukowski
The Icecream People
the lady has me temporarily off the bottleand now the pecker stands upbetter.however, things change overnight--instead of listening to Shostakovich..
© Charles Bukowski