Charles Bukowski

Essential Bukowski

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    Фелиция Белковаhas quoted23 days ago
    as the
    spirit
    wanes
    the
    form
    appears
    Фелиция Белковаhas quoted24 days ago
    the sink of the men’s crapper
    Фелиция Белковаhas quoted24 days ago
    BEWARE THE PREACHERS
    Beware The Knowers.
    Beware
    Those Who
    Are ALWAYS
    READING
    BOOKS
    Фелиция Белковаhas quotedlast month
    the ocean like a lavender flame,
    a moon destitute of greatness
    Фелиция Белковаhas quotedlast month
    a poem is a city where God rides naked
    through the streets like Lady Godiva,
    where dogs bark at night, and chase away
    the flag
    Фелиция Белковаhas quotedlast month
    I stare
    at clouds, at seas of gaunt
    sepulcher

    фелиция вторая часть вообще на английском? что это значит??

    Фелиция Белковаhas quotedlast month
    bled corpses
    surrounded me with their uselessness
    Фелиция Белковаhas quotedlast month
    my pockets full of lovely worms,
    and they took me to their jail and gave me a shower
    and a nice cell, rent-free, and even now the people
    are picketing in my cause
    Фелиция Белковаhas quotedlast month
    crowd gathered but stepped back before my shots
    of mud,
    and by the time the police came, I was in below
    my head,
    frightening gophers, eels and finding bits of golden
    inlaid skull
    Фелиция Белковаhas quotedlast month
    The early poems, with their lyricism and occasional surreal imagery, give way in the 1970s to Bukowski’s “Dirty Old Man” macho persona, when he finally achieves success in his fifties, after which he takes, in his final years, a more philosophical stance on life
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    I felt better when everything was in
    disorder.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    a confused old man driving in the rain
    wondering where the good luck
    went.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    love dries up, I thought
    as I walked back to the
    bathroom, about as fast as
    sperm.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    some suicides are never
    recorded.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    I act very bitter sometimes
    but the taste has often been
    sweet, it’s only that I’ve
    feared to say it. it’s like
    when your woman says,
    “tell me you love me,” and
    you can’t say it.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    what they want
    Vallejo writing about ultimate
    loneliness while starving to
    death;
    Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a
    whore;
    Rimbaud running off to Africa
    to look for gold and finding
    an incurable case of syphilis;
    Beethoven gone deaf;
    Pound dragged through the streets
    in a cage;
    Chatterton taking rat poison;
    Hemingway’s brains dropping into
    the orange juice;
    Pascal cutting his wrists
    in the bathtub;
    Artaud locked up with the mad;
    Dostoevsky stood up against a wall;
    Crane jumping into a boat propeller
    while in his pajamas;
    Lorca shot in the road by Spanish
    troops;
    Berryman jumping off a bridge;
    Burroughs shooting his wife;
    Mailer knifing his.
    —that’s what they want:
    a God damned show
    a lit billboard
    in the middle of hell.
    that’s what they want,
    that bunch of
    dull
    inarticulate
    safe
    dreary
    admirers of
    carnivals.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    art
    as the
    spirit
    wanes
    the
    form
    appears.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    a love poem for all the women I have known
    all the women
    all their kisses the
    different ways they love and
    talk and need.

    their ears they all have
    ears and
    throats and dresses
    and shoes and
    automobiles and ex-
    husbands.

    mostly
    the women are very
    warm they remind me of
    buttered toast with the butter
    melted
    in.

    there is a look in the
    eye: they have been
    taken they have been
    fooled. I don’t know quite what to
    do for
    them.

    I am
    a fair cook a good
    listener
    but I never learned to
    dance—I was busy
    then with larger things.

    but I’ve enjoyed their different
    beds
    smoking cigarettes
    staring at the
    ceilings. I was neither vicious nor
    unfair. only
    a student.

    I know they all have these
    feet and barefoot they go across the floor as
    I watch their bashful buttocks in the
    dark. I know that they like me, some even
    love me
    but I love very
    few.

    some give me oranges and pills;
    others talk quietly of
    childhood and fathers and
    landscapes; some are almost
    crazy but none of them are without
    meaning; some love
    well, others not
    so; the best at sex are not always the
    best in other
    ways; each has limits as I have
    limits and we learn
    each other
    quickly.

    all the women all the
    women all the
    bedrooms
    the rugs the
    photos the
    curtains, it’s
    something like a church only
    at times there’s
    laughter.

    those ears those
    arms those
    elbows those eyes
    looking the fondness and
    the waiting I have been
    held I have been
    held.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    the best at sex are not always the
    best in other
    ways; each has limits as I have
    limits and we learn
    each other
    quickly.
    Nikola Stankovićhas quoted5 months ago
    there is a look in the
    eye: they have been
    taken they have been
    fooled. I don’t know quite what to
    do for
    them.

    I am
    a fair cook a good
    listener
    but I never learned to
    dance—I was busy
    then with larger things.

    but I’ve enjoyed their different
    beds
    smoking cigarettes
    staring at the
    ceilings. I was neither vicious nor
    unfair. only
    a student.

    I know they all have these
    feet and barefoot they go across the floor as
    I watch their bashful buttocks in the
    dark. I know that they like me, some even
    love me
    but I love very
    few.
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