Posts tagged Charles Bukowski

 with an Apple Macintosh

you can’t run Radio Shack programs

in its disc drive.

nor can a Commodore 64

drive read a file

you have created on an

IBM Personal Computer.

both Kaypro and Osborne computers use

the CP/M operating system

but can’t read each other’s

handwriting

for they format (write

on) discs in different

ways.

the Tandy 2000 runs MS-DOS but

can’t use most programs produced for

the IBM Personal Computer

unless certain

bits and bytes are

altered

but the wind still blows over

Savannah

and in the Spring

the turkey buzzard struts and

flounces before his

hens.

-Charles Bukowski

(Source: antiquememes)

Overhead my spirit flies
Upon the ground and crimson skies
Whispering winds in moonlit woods
A totem oak once golden stood.

How I wish that you were here
Before all flowers disappeared.
We would lay together in the sun
Before the night rain had begun.

Now stones are falling from my hands
Shaking all my beloved land.
A watery glimpse back on my past
And only in my tears it lasts.

—Charles Bukowski

(Source: cocophony)

We are like roses that have never bothered to
bloom when we should have bloomed and
it is as if
the sun has become disgusted with
waiting

—Charles Bukowski

(Source: cocophony)

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 LOVE
   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 Quick To Censor
They Are Afraid Of What They Do
Not Know

Beware Those Who Seek Constant
Crowds; 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

-Charles Bukowski

(Source: cocophony)

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 …

- Charles Bukowski

the best often die by their own hand
just to get away,
and those left behind
can never quite understand
why anybody
would ever want to
get away
from
them

- Charles Bukowski

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
whores
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn’t call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance 
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships 
went wrong
with the 
girls.

it helped 
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the 
hospitals.

to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment

and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a 
cracked mirror- 
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.

what matters most is
how well you 
walk through the
fire.

—Charles Bukowski

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it’s not pretty.

it was the first time I’d
realized
that.

- Charles Bukowski