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"my poems are raw like the guts of a catfish cut open...words are all right as words but never let them get in the way" A collection of poems written between 1970 and 1990 and part of an archive Bukowski left to be published posthumously after his death. As a result, their authenticity is intensified. His usual themes loiter: alcoholism, womanising, horseracing and piercing cynicism, yet as always rings true with Bukowski's work - there are cracks through which slip moments of overwhelming tende...
sometimes we are given something extra by the gods and we don't know it at the time. I look back now, I look back at that kidand I'm glad it was me, the gods up therelaughing and urging me on, having such a god-damnedgood time about itall,me in the small room, running that pen across the paper,no automobile, no woman, no job, no food, just wine and ink and paper, the door closed, my mind running along theedge of the ceiling,along the edge of thenight sky, I just didn't know any better and I did....
look there.the one you considered killing yourself for.you saw her the other daygetting out of her carin the Safeway parking lot.she was wearing a torn greendress and old dirtybootsher face raw with living.she saw youso you walked overand spoke and thenlistened.her hair did not glistenher eyes and her conversation were dull.where was she?where had she gone?the one you were going to kill yourself for?Why is it that the sane, the rich and the successful always know so much less than the mad or the...
This collection of Bukowski’s poetry is part of a collection of work that he left behind to be published after his death, which actually opens it up to a whole new possibility. Regardless of how much he never gave a shit about what people thought about him, I’m pretty sure that every human being has some level of self-preservation. There’s a natural instinct not to share certain things because you know that it could change the way people look at you. But if you’re leaving poems behind to be publ...
There is no way of more surely avoiding the world than by art, and it is by art that you form the surest link with it. -Johann Wolfgang Von GoetheI have been feeling kind of blue lately and I picked up this poem collection to, well not exactly cheer me up but perhaps uplift my spirit. I’m a simple woman, these poems seem simple enough, kind of raw, which is how I am feeling and so it seemed like a good idea. And it was. I have quite a few favourites from this collection, there’s the one about g...
"up all night drinking miller high life convincing myself it doesn't matter"you don't need my words to tell you what tothink. you don'tneed hiseither.but his arebetter.
“ the lair of the hunted is hidden in the last place you’d ever look and even if you find it you won’t believe it’s really there in much the same way as the average person will not believe a great painting. “
I didn't really expect to like these poems because, I dunno, womanizing and horse-racing and ampersands aren't really my jam. I also lived in LA for a while and it was gross. And yet, these poems are amazing.
Another Bukowski anthology. His work gets me everytime, there is hardly a collection that doesn't have a ton of poems I can identify with.
Great! Stupendous! Mind-blowing! Do I need to say anything else? Oh yeah. If you haven't read Bukowski you are not fully alive.
This is more of a 4.9 than a 5 star book, but still worthwhile stuff from the much missed Charles Bukowski. For those of you new to Buk, here he is:Think of him as uncomfortably numb to the point where he has to share this with the world -- or at least with his typewriter.I have to be honest here -- this is not Bukowski's best poetry collection. This one gets repetitive and yet scatterbrained at times. This is one of the many poetry collections that came out after Buk died. I would love to know
Before the review know this book was actually more of a 4.8. Though a fan of Bukowski, I began reading this book with trepidation. It was published posthumously. This usually means with was an assortment of works that were not chosen for publication during his lifetime. This is usually a bad sign. This work however was bits and pieces that Bukowski chose himself. As I began to read the words leapt off the page filled with a vibrancy and rhythm lacking from some of his later works. The majority o...
Published after his death, so always the question of whether inclusion and editing were done with or with out his approval...but no worries, all is quality stuff from the master. And surprisingly, after his usual literary flame-throwing, Bukowski seems slightly uplifting in some of these, which were written around the time of his imminent death from leukemia.
Masterful. Bukowski wields the pen like no other and his words fall in peculiar fashion on the page: slowly at first, then all at once. Reading this collection will not only immerse you in pure poetry - it will make you drown in it.
these were my first bukowski poems, i like how he writes and how much he just doesn’t care.i still prefer french poetry though.next bukowski i will read is "burning in water drawning in flames”, i’ll keep you posted.
I laughed through most of this. Bukowski is a dark, hilarious genius.
Felt like the poems were lukewarm. Not a favorite.
Covering hookers horses and boozing
Personal favorites in no particular order:This is a factTo Jane Cooney Baker, died 1-22-62
last faves (check out my previous updates for the others)SchubertAs much as I hate to use the "f" word
