Charles Bukowski said it and I'd like to know what you think it means.
'Arrange for me this splendid insecurity'
-Charles Bukowski
This isn't a quote from his books or from an interview. It's from a painting he did. Nothing came before or followed it.
"Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink."
I think I get the relative meaning of this quote by Bukowski but I don't think I've fully grasped it.
Ideas?
I need to analyze this poem and say how it inspires me, and how it relates to me. I was thinking of doing something like, telling how we should beware these people( that the poem talks about) and then at the end have a sort of epiphany that I am one of these people who is needed to be feared. Suggestions?
oh! and what I'm writing is going to be a poem.
The Genius Of The Crowd
Charles Bukowski
there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day
and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace
those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love
beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average
but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect
like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock
their finest art
Yes Yes
by Charles Bukowski
when God created love he didn't help most
when God created dogs He didn't help dogs
when God created plants that was average
when God created hate we had a standard utility
when God created me He created me
when God created the monkey He was asleep
when He created the giraffe He was drunk
when He created narcotics He was high
and when He created suicide He was low
when He created you lying in bed
He knew what He was doing
He was drunk and He was high
and He created the mountains and the sea and fire at the same time
He made some mistakes
but when He created you lying in bed
He came all over His Blessed Universe.
What's the name of his poem that starts something like: "You know it was good" and in the end he says that walls are, like, shaking...? I have only version in my language, so it's kinda hard to know which specific words are used in the original. I searched google for an hour and nothing. From my language, I'd translate it "Miracle lasts the least" or something liket that.
"There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you." -Charles Bukowski
My sister-in-law has this as a tattoo on her back and I always meant to ask her what it meant but keep forgetting.
& I spent over an entire week with him in the past. It was spring break we were inseparable. Went to a ton of reggae shows it was great!! Then he had to go back to Oregon , I am in Texas, and some how we lost connection.
He came back after two years… and of course we started hanging out again. Its been 2 weeks now & the other night him and I got a bottle of wine and I got comfortable and asked him if he wanted to see somethings that interest me… he said yes. So I got online and showed him some Charles Bukowski poems, e e cummings and some of my own. After I had finished showing/reading them he looked shocked… overwhelmed … like I had scared the $h*t out of him. He said that C.B was sooo dark and he just is simple minded and doesn’t think like that. & that I am extremely intense. His reaction blew my mind. I really liked this person… and I knew he probably had never read anything like that before. I was trying to enlighten him and show him some new things. He didn’t react very well obviously. He told me that there are only a handful of people that I will connect with and to be mindful that he has never been exposed to something like that. He made me feel weird.
I got comfortable… let my hair down and everything went wrong.
So my question stop you all is…
What went wrong? What do I do now? & Do you think I should just walk away?
He is simple. He is handsome. He’s the nature surfer type guy (if you want to classify)
I like that he is simple. I am not. I am … I guess the artsy type. & often have people call me strange… but in a good way.
Anyhow… I think his simplicity is beautiful. But maybe my eccentricity is too much for him??
i'd prefer free, but very cheap would also do. i've looked on numerous torrent sites, esnips, 4shared, etc. and no luck.
A Coldness in the Blood - Fred Saberhagen
Confirmation- Whitley Strieber
The Hunger- Whitley Strieber
Golden Apples of The Sun & Other Stories- Ray Bradbury
Five Days In London, May 1940- John Lukacs
Passage- Connie Willis
The Vampire Papers- Michael Romkey
The Vampire Princess - Michael Romkey
Darker Angels- S.P. Somtow
Pugilist At Rest- Thom Jones
The Broken Hearts Club- Ethan Black
The Final Solution- Earle Rice
Eunoia- Christian Bok
The Frighteners- Michael Jahn
The Crow: Shattered Lives & Broken Dreams- J. O'Barr & Ed Kramer
Teen Angst? Naaah- Ned Vizzini
Filth- Irvine Welsh
The Dangerous Lives Of Altar Boys- Chris Fuhrman
The Unswept Room- Sharon Olds
The Oxford Book Of English Stories- A.S. Byatt
Farther Reaches Of Human Nature- Abraham Maslow
Checkpoint- Nicholson Baker
The Member of The Wedding- Carson McCullers
Rear View: Stories- Peter Duval
The Truth About Celia- Kevin Brockmeier
How The Light Gets In- Maria Hyland
Black Coffee and Joni's Blue- Keith Kawasaki
Crumbtown- Joe Connelly
Well- Matthew McIntosh
A Slipping-Down Life- Anne Tyler
My Life- Anton Chekhov
Mr. Spaceman- Robert Olen Butler
Skels- Maggie Dubris
Shame- Annie Ernaux
Fried Green Tomatoes At The Whistle Stop Cafe- Fannie Flagg
American Gothic Tales- Joyce Carol Oates
Highwaymen- Jonathan Clements
Everybody Smokes In Hell- John Ridley
The Mysteries of Pittsburgh- Michael Chabon
Safe Harbor- Eugene Izzi
Bear V. Shark- Chris Bachelder
Just Pretend- J.V. Lewton
A Life Less Ordinary- John Hodge
You Shall Know Our Velocity- Dave Eggers
How We Are Hungry- Dave Eggers
The Boy- Naeem Murr
Immortality- Milan Kundera
Second Hand- Michael Zadoorian
The Girl In The Flammable Skirt- Aimee Bender
Hot Water Music- Charles Bukowski
Pursuit of Happiness: Left Bank- Linny Stovall
Burn Collector: Collected Stories- Al Burian
The Every Boy- Dana Adam Shapiro
Death On The Installment Plan- Louis Celine
A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints- Dito Montiel
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close- Jonathan Safran Foer
The Holy Innocents (aka The Dreamers)- Gilbert Adair
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist- Rachel Cohn
No One Belongs Here More Than You- Miranda July
The Road of Excess: A History of Writers on Drugs- Marcus Boon
Evil Paradises: Dreamworlds of Neoliberalism- Mike Davis, Daniel Bertrand Monk
The Wanting Seed- Anthony Burgess
Against Interpretation And Other Essays- Susan Sontag
Why Art Cannot Be Taught- James Elkins
Genius And Heroin - Michael Largo
60 Years Later: Coming Through the Rye - John David California
Ritual - Mo Hayder
Skin - Mo Hayder
i tried books on board, but every book i looked up was well over $20, i might as well buy a hard copy! i'm looking for ebooks that are under $5.
I find it really difficult to find truly good, satisfying novels, and I could really use some help. Any suggestions would be highly appreciated. This may be a challenge, as I'm a little hard to please, but I have faith that some book snob out there in Yahoo! Answers land will know just the book for me.
Here's a little about my preferences, just to give some idea:
-I generally read memoir, so I definitely appreciate first person narration when I read fiction. Third person becomes a little distracting to me after a while, though it's not a dealbreaker.
-I just finished reading The Time Traveler's Wife. I almost always avoid reading bestsellers, because they are too often either total crap, but I quite enjoyed this one.
-I'm a writer, and I am very critical of the way things are written, diction, grammar, and the rhythmic flow of a piece of writing, so if a book is not well-written, I simply will not get through it.
-My favorite fiction writers are Gabriel García Márquez and Jhumpa Lahiri, and I also love Jane Austen, Tim O'Brien, Charles Bukowski, Sylvia Plath, and F. Scott Fitzgerald.
-I'm not going to read Twilight.
-Before I read The Time Traveler's Wife the last novel I read was , which I think suggests something about annoyingly dull titles.
-I recently purchased The 19th Wife and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and haven't gotten around to them yet, just because I haven't been in the mood for either of them, but I am looking forward to both.
-I'm a college student, and my research interests include confessional literature, fundamentalist Mormon polygamy, feminism, the pro-choice and pro-life movements, and the concept of virginity, so novels that touch on these subjects, happen within one of those contexts, or hold related themes will likely be quite interesting to me.
Thank you! Dracula has actually been on my to-read list, and I had forgotten about it. And Charlotte Perkins Gilman is another favorite of mine--"The Yellow Wallpaper" is amazing.
And, of course, I just realized not that HTML does not work here, so please excuse how awful that looks!
The two main authors I really enjoy reading are Kurt Vonnegut and Charles Bukowski. I also enjoyed reading Naked Lunch, A Clockwork Orange, 1984, etc.
I really have no idea what other authors or books I might enjoy reading, based upon the authors and books I am fond of. If anyone has a recommendation or something you think I might want to check out, please let me know!!
I'm looking for a book or author that is very unique, different, and well written based on the authors and books I mentioned. (AKA: Mainly based off of Kurt Vonnegut and Charles Bukowski)
"A Day In The Sun"
His balls hung so far
out of his faded blue swimming trunks,
they pressed through the plastic ribbons
of the lawn chair seat
and you could see the sack,
taut and bulging with an old man's nuts.
He had a scruffy gray beard
that went from the bottom of his crooked chin,
to the top of his wrinkled chest.
No shirt,
no shoes, no sense.
The young girls at the beach shrieked
when they skipped by him,
heading for bluer water.
I stood up and approached him,
taking my sunglasses off as I spoke.
"Hey"
Nothing.
"Hey, wake up. Your balls
are hanging out."
He turned and reached
into a red and white cooler,
digging in the ice.
He grabbed the waist of his trunks
and dropped a handful of cubes down his front.
He got up, halfway, farted,
wiggled his shorts, and sat back down.
"Are you crazy??"
He finally looked up at me.
"Listen, son, it's the only way to get my nuts
to shrivel back up
so I can keep them close to my pecker."
I turned and walked back
to my wife, grabbed my towel,
and headed towards the car.
"Who was that?" my wife asked.
"The ghost of Charles Bukowski" I said.
"He was nasty!!"
"Yeah. We're all nasty" I said
Some authors and books I'm really into are Kurt Vonnegut, Charles Bukowski, "Naked Lunch" by William S. Burroughs, "A Clockwork Orange" by Anthony Burgess, Etc.
What other eclectic or unique authors or books might one suggest for me?
drunk on the dark streets of some city,
it's night, you're lost, where's your
room?
you enter a bar to find yourself,
order scotch and water.
damned bar's sloppy wet, it soaks
part of one of your shirt
sleeves.
It's a clip joint-the scotch is weak.
you order a bottle of beer.
Madame Death walks up to you
wearing a dress.
she sits down, you buy her a
beer, she stinks of swamps, presses
a leg against you.
the bar tender sneers.
you've got him worried, he doesn't
know if you're a cop, a killer, a
madman or an
Idiot.
you ask for a vodka.
you pour the vodka into the top of
the beer bottle.
It's one a.m. In a dead cow world.
you ask her how much for head,
drink everything down, it tastes
like machine oil.
you leave Madame Death there,
you leave the sneering bartender
there.
you have remembered where
your room is.
the room with the full bottle of
wine on the dresser.
the room with the dance of the
roaches.
Perfection in the Star Turd
where love died
laughing.
albert camus
carl marx
douglas coupland
herman hesse
franz kafka
jean paul sartre
ivan turgenev
immanuel kant
macbeth
victor hugo
charles bukowski
chistopher moore
thank you!
-
Charity Work
Stephen Rodriguez
There was a dog that lived
outside my window
on the street.
It barked sometimes and shook its tail
at me.
It was a patchy dog like the kind you see
digging in the dirt
looking for some place to go.
But you know that it's got no place to go.
So I gave it a piece of meat and it
just looked at me asking
what makes this day any different.
It took the meat and ran off.
It'll get hit
sometime soon.
They all get hit sometime.
It'd be awesome if you did, because it's summer. Summer in a small town yields me being bored to death.
Here are the last 3 books I've read:
"Women"- Charles Bukowski
"Cringe"- Sarah Brown
"Off Season"- Jack Ketchum
Much obliged!
Is there any place on the Web that has a video or audio of a reading of any of the following poems by Charles Bukowski:
"I met a genius"
"For Jane"
"Be Kind"
"The Aliens"
"O Yes"
It would be nice if the poem is read by him, the author, but other professional readers reading it would work too.
Thanks~!
Women is my favorite.
One of my favorite poems by Bukowski:
he knows us all
hell crawls through the window
without a sound
enters my room
takes off his hat
and sits down on the couch across from me.
I laugh.
then my lamp drops off the table,
I catch it just before it hits the
floor, and in doing so,
I spill my
beer. "oh shit!" I say;
when I look up again
the son-of-a-bitch
is gone---
off looking for you,
my friend?
This poem is titled "Bluebird" by Charles Bukowski. I read it over but I am totally sure if my understanding is on the right track. So if anyone could explain from their point of view, it'd be greatly appreciated!
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
So, what could this poem be talking about?
Thanks a lot for any suggestions~!
In this poem, For Jane, by Charles Bukowski, what might the part about the "dry stick" and the "tiger" mean?
225 days under grass
and 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 room
the hours of love
still make shadows.
when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.
what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care.
Pls note that this is a love poem dedicated to the poet's passed away lover, Jane. Any suggestions?
Thanks a lot!~
Charles Bukowski - Music by Johnny Cash
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROBwH-cDu08&feature=related
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds "Mercy Seat"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFdUTM4gU-o&feature=related
the harder you try
by Charles Bukowski
the waste of words
continues with a stunning
persistence
as the waiter runs by carrying the loaded
tray
for all the wise white boys who laugh at
us.
no matter. no matter,
as long as your shoes are tied and
nobody is walking too close
behind.
just being able to scratch yourself and
be nonchalant is victory
enough.
those constipated minds that seek
larger meaning
will be dispatched with the other
garbage.
back off.
if there is light
it will find
you.
I need suggestions on poets to read, I've already read ee cummings, emily dickenson, edgar allen poe, allen ginsberg, and charles bukowski. Any others you suggest?
is this quite from a book or a poem? if so whats the name of it
"If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose" charles bukowski
I haven't discovered any new poetry recently and was wondering if anybody could recommend any poets that i may enjoy.
my favorite poet would be Charles Bukowski but i enjoy wilfred owen as well.
i not very familiar with modern poets so if you could give me the names of some of them i would like to look them up.
thanks
blue
by Charles Bukowski
blue fish, the blue night, a blue knife-
everything is blue.
and my cats are blue: blue fur, blue claws,
blue whiskers, blue eyes.
my bed lamp shines
blue.
inside, my blue heart pumps blue blood.
my fingernails, my toenails are
blue.
and around my bed floats a
blue ghost.
even the taste inside my mouth is
blue.
and I am alone and dying and
blue.
anonymouse-
bash on, bash on.
Buk was crippin' back in
'78
The Man With The Beautiful Eyes
Charles Bukowski
When we were kids
there was a strange house
all the shades were
always
drawn
and we never heard voices
in there
and the yard was full of
bamboo
and we liked to play in
the bamboo
pretend we were
Tarzan
( although there was no
Jane)
and there was a
fish pond
a large one
full of the
fattest goldfish
you ever saw
and they were
tame.
They came to the
surface of the water
and took pieces of
bread
from our hands.
Our parents had
told us:
" never go near that
house"
so, of course,
we went.
We wondered if anybody
lived there.
Weeks went by and we
never saw
anybody.
Then one day
we heard
a voice
from the house
" YOU GOD DAMNED
WHORE!"
It was a mans
voice.
Then the screen
door
of the house was
flung open
and the man
walked out.
He was holding a
fifth of whiskey
in his right
hand.
He was about
30.
He had a cigar
in his
mouth,
needed a
shave.
His hair was
wild and
uncombed
and he was
barefoot.
In undershirt
and pants
but his eyes
were
bright
they BLAZED
with brightness
and he said,
"hey, little
gentleman,
having a good
time, I
hope?"
Then he gave a
little laugh
and walked
back into the
house.
We left,
went back to my
parents yard
and thought
about it.
Our parents,
we decided
had wanted us
to stay away
from there
because they
never wanted us
to see a man
like
that,
a strong natural
man
with
beautiful
eyes.
Our parents
were ashamed
that they were
not
like that
man,
thats why they
wanted us to stay
away.
But
we went back
to that house
and the bamboo
and the tame
goldfish.
We went back
many times
for many
weeks
but we never
saw
or heard
the man
again.
The shades were
down
as always
and it was
quiet.
Then one day
as we came back from
school
we saw the
house.
It had burned
down,
there was nothing
left,
just a smoldering
twisted black
foundation
and we went to
the fish pond
and there was
no water
in it
and the fat
orange goldfish
were dead
there,
drying out.
We went back to
my parents yard
and talked about
it
and decided that
our parents had
burned their
house down,
had killed
them
had killed the
goldfish
because it was
all too
beautiful,
even the bamboo
forest had
burned.
They had been
afraid of
the man with the
beautiful
eyes.
And
we were afraid
than
that
all throughout our lives
things like that
would happen,
that nobody
wanted
anybody
to be
strong and
beautiful
like that,
that
others would never
allow it,
and that
many people
would have to
die.
Please feel free to add any thoughts/comments about it.
========
If you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.
if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.
go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.
if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.
do it, do it, do it.
do it.
all the way.
all the way.
you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, its
the only good fight
there is.
–
And I’m doing it
Enduring the long distance between us
Facing myself when there’s silence and darkness
Working while loosing my passion for it
Living in a city that left me long ago
Pushing time forward
Trying to live my dream
Holding my future closeby
Reading Wilde’s words
And still smiling
Because
I’m doing it!
Betting on the muse by charles bukowski?
watz the idea of that poem?
okay? can u just answer the question instead of picking mistakes from my statements
Just because you walked in dark alleys
and awakened with the stench of booze,
knew every inch of the bar flies you used,
you have no corner market on
the depth of pain
and your scorn for those
in starched white shirts,
toiling above you in towers,
blinds what you think is
your all seeing eye
and makes me wonder
if you're as smart as
you think.
Your ink can be genius
but your judgment is harsh.
Sometimes,
your voice is as
guilty
as those you accuse.
(will I lose a son over this??)
Pull A String, A Puppet Moves
by Charles Bukowski
each man must realize
that it can all disappear very
quickly:
the cat, the woman, the job,
the front tire,
the bed, the walls, the
room; all our necessities
including love,
rest on foundations of sand -
and any given cause,
no matter how unrelated:
the death of a boy in Hong Kong
or a blizzard in Omaha ...
can serve as your undoing.
all your chinaware crashing to the
kitchen floor, your girl will enter
and you'll be standing, drunk,
in the center of it and she'll ask:
my god, what's the matter?
and you'll answer: I don't know,
I don't know ...
It's Ours
Charles Bukowski
there is always that space there
just before they get to us
that space
that fine relaxer
the breather
while say
flopping on a bed
thinking of nothing
or say
pouring a glass of water from the
spigot
while entranced by
nothing
that
gentle pure
space
it's worth
centuries of
existence
say
just to scratch your neck
while looking out the window at
a bare branch
that space
there
before they get to us
ensures
that
when they do
they won't
get it all
ever.
I went to coffee tree to buy
a bukowski poetry book
Charles knew what I was going through
So sad and depressed
I need you in my life
I told the cashier I wrote love poems
She said I was the last of my kind
I told her I mostly wrote about you
But it would never work out
except on paper
Walking out I saw your vehicle at the stop sign
It seemed to linger there a little longer than
it needed to.
It left me wondering, wishing perhaps.
Did you see me too?
Please give honest answers. I can take criticism.
Thanks in advance,
Kevin
I need some literary criticism on Charles Bukowski for a term paper I'm writing, any information would help, online sources would be best, but publishing are good as well.
